Oliver’s Story is a series of posts sharing the experiences of a friend as she comes to terms with the loss of her baby boy, born in October 2005.
When I first discovered I was pregnant in March 2003 I was so shocked. Newly married and living with my mother in law it was not something we had planned. I was amazed it even happened because we had purposely missed that day 14 everyone talks about. However I have since learnt I do not have a 28 day cycle more a 48 so when I was thinking it was safe I was actually very fertile.
Newly pregnant I was blissfully unaware of what a miscarriage was. We saw the little peanut shaped baby at 9 weeks with a beating heart and I continued in a blissful blur and developed a small bump. I became concerned of failing symptoms but all the time I did not bleed I assumed everything to be well within.
It was not so, our baby had died somewhere between the 9th and 13th week. It was called a ‘missed miscarriage’ and I had to have a D&C and a night in hospital.
‘Pregnancy’, once blissful and magical was never to be again!
Pregnancy number 2 was as brief as it took those two lines to appear; the very next week I bled ‘a natural miscarriage’.
Pregnancy number 3 came before my next period and was a surprise and also a nightmare. I could not believe I had opened myself up to more stress, more tears and another loss.
But she continued to grow along with my immense fear of losing her, right up until her birth and even beyond I had every alarm going. While she was growing inside I used the Doppler (my own) and then when my beautiful baby girl Eleanor was born I had an alarm under her bed, should she stop breathing. Gone were the days when, at 12 weeks pregnant, you start talking names and painting the nursery.
But then there was Ollie. My husband and I were sitting in our garden on a summer’s day in May our 10-month-old baby girl upstairs asleep and we decided we wanted another child. So the decision was made and 3 weeks later I was pregnant. As easy as that, and strangely enough I was not scared this time. Everything was good. All the signs were good. Our first child born in July, my sister’s first born in July, seven years before. Our second now due in Feb, my sister’s second was in February 2004 all within days of her children, mine were either born or due. Got to work right?!
I flew past the 12 week scan, I was confident this would mean I would have a baby so I began to experience the rush of a first time mother to be. I felt this pregnancy would re-write all my losses, I had one beautiful girl and now another on the way. I felt the flutters turn into light kicks, life was good. But it was not to last and before I knew it I experienced a stillbirth.
So therefore, should I be lucky enough to have another ‘pregnancy’, to me means uncertainty, anxiety, dread and maybe, hopefully, a baby. Pregnancy is described as lasting normally 9 months, but for me its normally 13 months, that’s how long I was pregnant on and off until I was blessed with Ellie and although there is normally a gap in between its still manages to feel like I am pregnant forever.
I long to be pregnant again, but for now I am enjoying the break, worry free for a little while longer.
