I HAD A MISCARRIAGE





Kate Kirk



I had a miscarriage. Unfortunately it’s not that unusual, but so many women cry alone with the pain for their lost child. It is common to not tell anyone outside immediate family that you are pregnant before 12 weeks because that is the time risk of miscarriage is greatest, but that also means if you lose a baby in the first trimester no one knows.





I shared on my social media and my blog what happened to me at the time. My grief was all consuming and I couldn’t even manage the energy to smile at people on the school run, no one should have to suffer so much sadness on their own. 💭


When I shared our sad news I had many people contact me privately and tell me about the losses they had experienced. So many brave women who had one or more miscarriages before going on to have healthy babies, as well as women who didn’t feel able to try again. I felt honoured that they contacted me and although I was saddened by so many having gone through what I was going through it helped me so much to know I was not alone and that there were others out there who understood. 💡


It doesn’t matter how much a man wants a baby, a miscarriage doesn’t affect them in the same way. Yes they will feel grief and loss, but babies often don’t feel as real to men, especially before the first scan.From the moment I knew I was pregnant I started rewriting my future with the baby in it. Everything I did I considered the baby; from what I ate, to medicines I took and exercise. Even if I hadn’t had the physical reminders of my pregnancy there was no way I could forget the little life inside me.


Then one day the physical symptoms went. I just felt normal. Except I wasn’t normal because I was filled with this huge fear that my baby had died. I dreaded going to the toilet incase I saw blood. I called the Early Pregnancy Unit and they suggested I came in to be checked, but with a toddler and no childcare I couldn’t wait around the unit all day, they said they would call me back, they didn’t.


I booked a private scan and she got me to lie down so she could take a look. She confirmed my fear, there was no life. I won’t go through the physical experiences of the next week even though I remember them so clearly. I went on auto pilot until it was all over, I had to go into hospital due to the amount of blood I lost and it was only when I eventually got home that I allowed myself to process what had happened. What it meant. I fell apart.


The grief will always be with me. I will always wonder about that baby I lost. I don’t even know if they were a girl or a boy. They were only a few cms long, but they meant the world to me. The gap they left will always be there, my other children can not fill it, but the pain does get less. I can talk about my loss without crying, I can listen to others stories without having to shut myself off because it hurts too much. I am healing.