Shona's story: 'I felt very alone with my feelings'"I discovered I was pregnant for the first time in January 1989. At first it was a terrific shock as I was only a few months into a new relationship and the pregnancy was unplanned. Once it had sunk in, however, we realised we were both delighted and keen to go ahead. I remember being surprised by just how much it changed my perspective to know I was pregnant – all future plans and hopes now revolved around the coming baby. The thought that this baby might never arrive didn't cross my mind. When I started with a brown discharge at around six and a half weeks weeks, I wasn't particularly concerned. I'd heard about 'breakthrough' bleeding and put it down to that. A friend thought I ought to see my GP anyway, so I made an appointment with her that same evening and was utterly stunned when my doctor started to talk about the pregnancy possibly not being 'viable'. She arranged for me to be admitted into the local hospital and, although I was now starting to feel anxious, I did think she was over-reacting, especially when she arranged for an ambulance to collect me as I didn't have my own transport. "At the hospital I was scanned and told that they could see an embryo, but no heartbeat. As I was borderline around the date that the heartbeat would have been visible anyway, they decided to repeat the scan in a week and discharged me. The following day I started to bleed and was re-admitted. After two days, when the bleeding had slowed, I was discharged again. That night I started to bleed heavily and began to lose clots. I was re-admitted again and told that I had had a miscarriage. I was scanned the following morning and then went to Theatre for a D&C. "Throughout all this time I never had the chance to discuss with anyone how I would feel, either physically or emotionally. The most lasting impression I have is that everyone seemed embarrassed by the whole thing. The one member of staff who stands out in my memory is a junior doctor who made a point of seeking me out before I was discharged to tell me how sorry she was that my pregnancy had ended this way and to give me a phone number for the local miscarriage group. She was not a part of the team, whose care I was under and I was very touched at her kindness. "When I got home I felt very much alone with my feelings. My partner (now my husband), whilst willing to listen sympathetically, obviously didn't feel the same sense of loss that I did and I felt very resentful about this at the time. People who had just heard about my pregnancy were obviously embarrassed when, on offering their congratulations, were told that I had a miscarriage. Whilst their reaction was understandable I felt very hurt that so few people offered to talk about it. The few people who did are, to this day, very vivid in my memory. The only way forward seemed to be to bottle it up and pretend it had never happened. I became quite manic as whenever I found myself alone with nothing to do I would cry about it – I felt ashamed of this and tried to keep busy at all times. "About 18 months later I went to see a hypnotherapist, mainly to see if she could help with exam nerves. I was astonished when she hypnotised me that all this emotion relating to the miscarriage came flooding out. I realised that I had never really come to terms with it and accepted it – there was still a part of me that was holding on to that baby. This was a real turning point – I had found a place where it was acceptable to express my grief, to acknowledge my loss and start looking forward. Most importantly I came to realise that the loss of this baby will occasionally hurt for the rest of my life and that's OK – it doesn't mean I'm weak or silly or morbid. "I think there are two aspects to dealing with a miscarriage that people don't realise. You are grieving for the loss of a child, and to a woman who has miscarried she HAS lost a child, not an embryo – the fact that the child is faceless and nameless doesn't make it any the less of a child. The other aspect is that you have just lost the future you had perceived for yourself – all of a sudden there is a gaping hole in your life where the baby was going to go. Most of the time I don't think of the miscarriage at all, or if I do it's painless, other times like writing this it's very vivid and hurts like hell, even all these years later. "My second pregnancy was normal, although anxious in the early days! My daughter, Megan, was born in August 1994. My third pregnancy, like the first, ended in disaster in March 1999 at eight weeks – although it was a very different experience for several reasons. First, I was very much aware of the possibility of a miscarriage from the start. Also, this pregnancy turned out to be a blighted ovum and I was already suspicious because my pregnancy 'symptoms' had abated and knew in my heart that things weren't going as they should. Finally, hospital staff seemed to be much more aware of how hard a miscarriage is and are much more willing to talk. Nobody skirted around the issue and I was given loads of information when I was discharged from hospital. I also had a follow-up appointment for a month later, the idea of which was to discuss how I was coping, answer any questions that I had about what had gone wrong and discuss any implications for future pregnancies. Interestingly, this second miscarriage hit my husband much harder than the first one had – I think because since we had our daughter he had a greater awareness of exactly what had been lost. "Finally, on a happy note, our second child is due on 16 April. I sometimes feel sad that after my first pregnancy ended in miscarriage I've never again experienced that unconcerned joy that I had. Whilst discovering I was pregnant has always made me happy it has always been accompanied by anxiety. That 'magical' 12 weeks is something that can seem so elusive. I've sometimes felt envious of other women who have never had a miscarriage and so obviously take their pregnancies for granted. There is also the limbo time between morning sickness ending and starting to feel the baby move – I have always found this very unnerving as I don't 'feel' pregnant at this stage. I will always wonder who my lost babies might have been and feel sad about their loss On the other hand, if I hadn't lost those babies, I probably wouldn't have my daughter and the baby that's due soon. I'm very lucky that where there has been loss and sorrow, there have also been gains and great joy." Where to next?
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