I wish I had had someone to talk to

I have a daughter who was born after many rounds of IVF treatment. We were incredibly happy when it finally worked, and we felt content having one child.

We never really received a clear explanation for our infertility. There were different factors that could make it more difficult to conceive, but nothing that made it completely impossible. Still, it took many attempts before we finally had our daughter.

Three years later, I became pregnant naturally, something we had almost believed was impossible. We were so happy. The pregnancy was confirmed with an ultrasound, and we got to see a little heartbeat.

Because I was 42, I was advised to have chorionic villus sampling (CVS). While we were waiting for the results, I booked an appointment to check on a fibroid. I was around 15 or 16 weeks pregnant.

During that appointment, the doctor discovered that the baby’s heart had stopped beating.

It was just before Easter, and I had to spend the entire Easter weekend knowing that the baby had died inside me. After Easter, I went to the hospital and was given medication to induce the process. It was like a smaller delivery, and afterwards, I needed a procedure to remove the remaining tissue.

What followed was a long period of questioning everything that had happened.

Was it the CVS test? Had I done something wrong? Was it because I had been running or lifting something heavy? If I hadn’t had that test, would things have turned out differently?

We later found out that the results of the CVS test were normal. But I still couldn’t stop blaming myself.

You can’t simply get over something like this, but I wish I hadn’t had to carry all those unanswered questions on my own.

I had already told my family and colleagues about the pregnancy. My parents were devastated, especially my father. I felt as though I had let them down, my husband, and most of all, the baby. And my daughter, who could have had a sister.

In the years that followed, other difficult things happened. My father passed away, and my mother became ill. The grief, stress and anxiety continued to build over a long period of time.

About seven or eight years later, I had a stroke. I personally suspect that the prolonged stress and grief may have contributed to my illness, alongside everything else that had happened in my life.

What I wish more people understood is how deeply a miscarriage can affect your mental wellbeing. How much worse you can feel than others might realise, and how grief can wear you down for a very long time.

More than anything, I wish I had had someone to talk to. Someone with knowledge about miscarriage who could help me understand what had happened and answer the questions I kept asking myself.

Instead, I spent so much time worrying, searching for information online and trying to figure out why it had happened.

I believe that having someone knowledgeable to talk to, someone who understood what I was going through, could have helped me feel a little more at ease.

You can’t simply get over something like this, but I wish I hadn’t had to carry all those unanswered questions on my own.