The f***** up world of pregnancy after loss

10:24 am

Today I had another scan and an appointment with my lovely consultant. I arrived at the hospital at 8.30 am, after a night of tossing and turning, and a morning of the usual chaos plus a bit more. Lots of snapping at poor old Woody.
Baby boy was kicking away in the waiting room, for the first time I actually saw one of his kicks. I thought maybe he was trying to reassure me, but then quickly told myself to stop being so silly.
The scan was fine, the sonographer was very sweet and showed me everything in detail. She said the heart was fine, but then in my head I saw "only 25% of heart defects are found on a scan".
After the scan I made my way to the ante natal clinic. I haven't had an appt there in 14 years, and suddenly felt rather strange, I was shaking.
The receptionist heaved down this enourmous file, and oh my! That file was just mine, it was about 3 inches thick!
While waiting I could feel my face getting hot, and I texted Woody to tell him baby's heart was ok.
A chirpy midwife called me through into a little exam room, and asked me how I was which of course resulted in me crying all over her and the student midwife. Neither of them had read my notes yet, so had no idea about Florence, but once they knew treated me really nicely, and said they'd go and fetch my consultant to see me rather than make me wait in the waiting room yet again.
Dr P arrived soon after, he has a kind face and a warm handshake. He talked to me softly and thoughtfully, and we discussed a care plan for this pregnancy.My head is now spinning with medical processes and terminology and appts, and swabs, and scans....and well I should be reassured by all this care, but the truth is it terrifies me, and I just don't know what I think.
I'm used to being in control of my body, to birthing my babies my way, at home. A healthy woman birthing a healthy baby....but that's where it all gets fucked up isn't it?
At least I still get the familiarity of seeing my lovely community midwives alongside seeing Dr P.
This is all just so alien to me, and I'm so so scared for my little boy and I miss Florence, and it's just all so fucking shit.
And I've got to stop crying before I go to the children's Easter service...and shit, I still haven't bought any bloody waterproof mascara...when will I learn?

Don't be shy, say hello!


  1. Sending lots of love and hugsxxx

  2. sending you the gentlest of hugs.

  3. sending love and calm gentle hugs, mama.

  4. everything will be fine. i am so in awe of your braveness, that happy face that we see. i wish i was like you. you are a credit to all women, all mummy's.

  5. It must be so hard, it's so unfair. I was that home birthing doing it my way type too and I know what a massive paradigm shift it must be. Everything must be so different. I know I'm going to find that hard to come to terms with if I'm pregnant again. I just want to send zillions of virtual hugs your way, your doing so amazingly well, take it easy on yourself xx

  6. I'm pleased that baby boy's heart looks fine. I always did that too - a sonographer would say "fine" and I'd mentally add, "so far as you can see." I found going back into the shared care/high risk model hard too - after a very peaceful pregnancy and home birth labour with Emma. I hope that you can find tiny pockets of peace in the midst of it all.

  7. sending hugs and positive thoughts

  8. Love and hugs, keep holding on, I'm sure this little chap of yours is doing his bit to help, with well timed kicks of encouragement!
    San xxx

  9. This line:

    "This is all just so alien to me, and I'm so so scared for my little boy and I miss Florence, and it's just all so fucking shit."

    I know Jeanette, I know. This shit is so hard. I'm sorry it has to be this way for you. We lost our babies and our innocence.


  10. I haven't bought any waterproof mascara yet either Jeanette. I did mean to but got suckered into buying that new Maybelline one that promised a 'falsh lash' effect but just produced scary spidery looking efforts!

    I know I can't understand all of this, not really. But I imagine I would find those reassurances a little hollow too. I know that I will never be a healthy woman birthing a healthy baby now. My own bulging file of obstetric notes belies that.

    But please remember, that it does usually go right, fine, uneventfully. Unbelievably almost, it does usually work out just fine.

    It is f***ing s**t and you will always miss your Florence. There no way around it.

    But I'm so full of hope for you and your little boy.xo

  11. Thinking of you x

  12. {{{hugs}}} Jeanette.

  13. oh Jeanette, what you are going through is so so hard. Sending lots of love, hugs and crying with you for Florence n how you must be feeling xxxxx

  14. jeanette
    i,ve no words for you just sending mega hugs

  15. I am really sorry you have to go through this. Sending you big hugs!


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