Another day goes by, without you.

Mid-February I found out I was pregnant with you. I couldn’t believe I was pregnant after losing a baby at 6 weeks in October last year.

I think I did about 20 pregnancy tests, just to make sure. Just to make sure I wasn’t going crazy. By 6 weeks my HCG levels had soared and I was feeling nauseous and more tired than ever. I got past 6 weeks and thought maybe things might be okay in the end, my worries eased a little. I kept doing everything I knew I should and I took it easy.

At 7.5 weeks on your big sister’s birthday (she turned 2), I had a small bleed and I thought it was all over, but after seeing you moving around on an ultrasound, I knew you were a sticky little fighter. The next couple of weeks became a blur, after numerous bleeds, blood tests and doctors visits you were still there.

At 10.5 weeks I had another bleed and really thought it was all over, but I was given another ultrasound and that is when I saw you had taken shape. Your heart beating perfectly, your head and belly, your arms waving around and even a close up of your legs kicking! Obviously I couldn’t feel you kicking, but it was an amazing moment. I’m so thankful that the sonographer that day took some photos of you and put them on disk so I could keep them forever.

I went home from the ultrasound feeling elated, but also very sick. I was sure it was just the morning sickness. But then I vomited and began to shiver and shake. Through the night I began to cry so much because I felt so wrong, my body temperature wouldn’t regulate and before long I had a fever. Your dad nearly took me to the hospital until I seemed to be able to warm up and get to sleep, but in the morning I was covered from head to toe in sweat, I knew things weren’t right. Before long I was rushed to the emergency room and put on an ECG machine, they took blood , urine tests and eventually hooked me up to a drip to have antibiotics. All the time I didn’t worry about myself, all I could think about was little you, in there. I knew if I was this sick, you couldn’t have been too well either. I kept asking if I could have another ultrasound, but they were sure everything was okay with you after having one the day before.

I was then transferred to another hospital as they weren’t sure they could look after us. I heard some doctors whisper about septicemia, but I was never directly told at the time if I had it or not. Once in the next hospital I found out I had a severe kidney infection, hence why I had been feeling so terrible. They still assured me the antibiotics I was put on was safe for you and you would be okay (I made sure I asked, numerous times). I didn’t have an ultrasound while in hospital. After a gruelling 3 nights and 4 days in hospital of endless blood tests and my veins playing up, I was sent home. I still didn’t feel right, but just assumed after that long in hospital I probably shouldn’t have felt well. For the next couple of days I made sure I rested.

On the morning of my12 weeks ultrasound (3 days later) I woke early being so excited I could finally see you and see how much you had grown in a week. I went alone as your Dad needed to get to work early and your big sister needed to be looked after. I still felt a little sick, but just told myself it was because I was pregnant. However, when the sonographer lit up the screen it didn’t show good news.  Where you had been before was a dark line and no heart beating away. I couldn’t see your arms or legs waving around and there was hardly any amniotic fluid left.

My heart instantly broke.
You were gone.

I was then sent to hospital again and told I had septicemia and you couldn’t have survived it . I was given the medication to help get things moving before going into theatre where I wouldn’t come out with you.

The pain was immense.
My heart kept crumbling.
This wasn’t supposed to be happening, today was supposed to be a happy day, a day to remember.
Before I went under, I thought of you and I just wanted you to know that I loved you and I was so sorry I didn’t know how unwell I was. I was sorry that I hadn’t gone to the hospital sooner.
Maybe it could have changed things, maybe it couldn’t have?
I will never know.

Today three weeks later, I’m missing you, my heart is still broken.
I’ve gone through the shock and tried to pretend it didn’t happen, then my milk came in.
I felt frustrated that even though you had left me, my body would torture me again.
I’ve tried to think positively and I am still trying, but it is hard. There are still times when the loss of you hits me and I feel like I couldn’t breathe another breath without you. But I still keep breathing and life goes on, like it always has.

Sleep peacefully with your little brother or sister.
You will always be in my thoughts little one.

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