IN MY LIFE Natalie O’Connor
My life just stopped at this point. It was all a blur.
W
hen my husband and I decided to start trying for a family, we thought we would keep it really chilled, and if it happened, it happened. This paid off, and within a few months, we discovered we were pregnant! It was such a joyous time for us. It was our little secret. Something special that we only knew. Something we created out of the love we shared. Week by week I was growing with excitement with the impending joy of being able to tell my family and friends our exciting news. We decided to wait until the three-month mark as the doctor suggested. In the meantime, we would have our first obstetrician appointment at eight weeks. I had read online that this would be the first time we would hear our baby’s heartbeat, so I made sure my husband was with me for this exciting and momentous occasion. 34
eYs Magazine
We were excited as we arrived nice and early for our appointment and waited with the other pregnant women in the waiting room. When finally, my name was called we met our new doctor, and he then proceeded to perform our very first ultrasound. He asked my husband to stand where he could see the monitor to see the little heartbeat for the first time. The doctor moved the ultrasound devise around a fair bit in silence. Our excitement soon turned to confusion when he couldn’t find a heartbeat. I looked up at my husband, looking for reassurance to settle the anxiousness and worry that was growing in my heart and pulsing through my veins. My husband reached out his hand and held mine so tight. Then the doctor stopped talking, and all the anguish was confirmed, it was a failed pregnancy. I was heartbroken and just broke down
and sobbed. What!!?? How could this be? My husband just held me as I cried uncontrollably into his chest. When I finally calmed down, we spoke to the doctor and asked what was next. He said he was fairly sure that this was a failed pregnancy. A scan in 4 days’ time would confirm it, and if it were the case I would need to pass the embryo naturally or need to take tablets to assist; otherwise I would need a curette. My life just stopped at this point. It was all a blur. I remember being on the couch at home just crying and my husband hugging me. Then I would cry by myself when he was at work. The next four days were a LONG wait. Then the day came for the second scan. It was my birthday – what were the chances of that? It was at this appointment that our worst fears were confirmed. This was a failed pregnancy. Our little embryo was not alive. The doctor told us that one in five pregnancies end this way, in a miscarriage. I remember thinking that this was an amazingly high statistic. I had no idea. I set out to take the tablets to dispel all that we lovingly created. I cried as I swallowed each tablet. I cried and cried, my body heaving at the thought of what was to