Cont...
Two days later, we had to say our goodbyes. I have only ever seen my husband cry twice in our fifteen years
together and this was one of those moments. It was the hardest thing to do as we had both agreed we wouldn’t
see her again after her post mortem. Her funeral took place about four weeks later, just before Christmas. It was
small - just family and a few close friends - but it was a perfect goodbye. Her ashes are scattered on Parliament
Hill, a place we went to regularly while I was pregnant, and where we hoped we would visit again and fly the kite
with her future brothers and sisters.
Scarlett’s death remains a mystery, but sadly seventeen babies are born sleeping every day in the UK. It’s fifteen times more common than cot death, yet people just don’t realise that unless they have been affected by
stillbirth. I have always been very open about Scarlett: she will always be my first born and I’m fiercely proud of
her, but I also do it to raise awareness and break the taboo.
I had a miscarriage before falling pregnant with Scarlett, and remember being driven to try again as soon as
possible afterwards. The same feelings returned after Scarlett’s death, although with hindsight I probably
launched into it all too quickly. Nonetheless, I was stunned and very pleased to find out nine weeks later that I
was pregnant again. Sadly, this too ended in miscarriage, and I began another painful journey in learning that I
was also going to suffer from recurrent miscarriages, all due to chromosomal abnormalities, despite my
husband and I both having normal chromosomes. I had another two after that one, so when I fell pregnant again
in July 2013, I didn’t really think of it as anything other than a positive pregnancy test. When I had some spotting
at 7 weeks, I was in shock when an early scan showed a healthy-sized blob on the screen with a beating heart.
At 10 weeks I had another scan and went for the Harmony test: everything was fine - we discovered I was carrying a little boy - and I started to believe that perhaps this time I wouldn’t miscarry. However, it would still take a
huge leap of faith to believe that I would finally get to take a baby home with me.
My pregnancy was fraught with worries. I thought I would feel more reassured once I felt movement - with an
anterior placenta this time I didn’t feel anything until about 18 weeks. But once I did, then I worried how much I
was feeling him and whether it was less or more than the day before. I was lucky enough to be able to see my
bereavement midwife or my consultant pretty much whenever I wanted, for a quick listen in with the doppler or a
quick scan to check the heart was still beating. Then from 20 weeks onwards, I started to have monthly growth
and doppler scans with the fetal medicine specialist. Every scan was incredibly reassuring and on the weeks in
between I would go to the day assessment unit to be monitored.
Working out my birth plan turned out to be fairly straightforward. Neither me, Jane nor my consultant, Kirsten,
wanted me to go overdue, but we all wanted me to try and wait until 38 weeks. I wanted to be monitored regularly, and I wanted to request intervention at the earliest sign of any distress during labour, but otherwise I wanted to have as natural a birth as possible. At 37 weeks, I went into overdrive - I had three sweeps and three
rounds of acupuncture in a week! I was drinking raspberry leaf tea like it was going out of fashion, and I walked
everywhere!
On the day of my induction, I went in at 8am for one dose of prostin. Jane came in early to do it and stayed right
through until I was settled postnatally the next morning. She is truly amazing. She came back once an hour to
have a listen in to baby and check he was OK which thankfully he was. It was then a case of mobilising whilst
waiting for things to start. After a bit of pacing the corridors, a cheeky bacon sandwich and a walk to the local
shops to buy lunch, I was getting semi regular tightenings that were a bit more painful than period pains. Kirsten
also popped in on her day off to check all was well - I felt like royalty!
At 2.30pm, Jane moved me to labour ward where my waters were broken with the help of some gas and air for
pain relief. She was happy that although my cervix hadn't dilated much, it had thinned and softened enough to
give me a few more hours before having to think about the drip which we both really wanted to avoid if possible.
Cue lots of bouncing, pacing the corridor, and using my TENS machine for pain relief. I wanted to stay on my
feet to keep things progressing, so didn't go for the gas and air until the pains were too much and I had also
tired myself out by being vertical for so long. My sister arrived around 4pm, as I really wanted her to be there
during happy times, given what an incredible support she’d been for me when Scarlett was born.
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