A Miscarriage Story – 16 Weeks

When I was 16, I was diagnosed with PCOS (Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome) and crushed tubes thanks to a mis-diagnosed burst appendix. We didn’t find this out until I was 32 when I had Laparoscopic surgery. We have been through 8 cycles of Clomid (before we found out about the tubes) and 2 yrs of IVF, 3 fresh cycles and 3 FET’s (frozen embryo transfers), 4 years trying in total.

On the 14th of November in 2005, our world suddenly changed when we were told the great news that we were pregnant. Right through my first trimester, except at 8 weeks when I had a small bleed, everything was going well. I was starting to pop out quickly, my eating had changed, I was tired in the afternoons – but I was loving it! I loved showing my belly off and wearing tight clothes to do it, but on the 27th of January, 2006 our world came crashing down.

I woke up that morning at 3am and needed to go to the toilet, I had been getting some pains for a couple of days but put it down to a urinary tract infection I thought I might be getting. The pain got stronger and it wasn’t going away – I ended up on the floor in the bathroom and had to call out to my husband who picked me up and put me on the bed, then phoned an ambulance. I was taken to hospital where it took four and half hours for a doctor to see me. He looked at a urine sample and said yep a UTI (urinary tract infection) and sent me home, no ultrasound nothing.

I rung my Obstetrician when I got home, who wasn’t happy that a scan hadn’t been done, so he organised one for that afternoon. I was told to drink one litre of water an hour before. On the way there I felt a huge pain in my lower tummy and then felt a ‘pop’ and water came out. My mum met me there and when I got out of the car it just gushed down my legs, we knew what had happened.

The scan confirmed that my waters had leaked. My Obstetrician phoned me to again confirm this and told me to go home and rest. He asked me to come in for another scan on Monday so he could see what was happening.

That was the longest weekend of our lives. Monday came and the scan showed what we were hoping not to hear, that the hole in the amniotic sac was too big and there was no amniotic fluid. I was shattered, but what kept me going was seeing our little ones heartbeat. We went back for a scan every couple of days to see what was happening.

The second week came around and we knew we had to make a decision, if we kept the pregnancy (15 weeks at this stage) our baby’s lungs would not develop along with its limbs. I could miscarry later down the track or/and an infection could set in. We were given the option to go to Monash Hospital to talk to people about if we kept going, but in our heart of hearts we knew what we had to do – and I never want to have to make that choice again. We went home and made what time we had with our miracle last as long as we could and waited for a phone call from the hospital as to when I would be booked in. By Friday I finally got the call to say it will be next week but they will ring me depending on the bed availability.

All weekend I held my tummy, I talked to her but as usual time flew. Monday went, still nothing then Tues morning I got a call to go in, I just wanted one more day with our little one. We went in, I was told everything that was going to happen. Four tablets were inserted and in three and half hours I had delivered our beautiful baby girl, Chloe Jade, at 16 weeks and 2 days.

We spent time with her, held her, talked to her, kissed her and took photos. she was just so perfect and she even had her dad’s top lip. The hospital gave us her little bed that she was presented to us in to take home. I stayed over night as my temperature had gone up but in away I was glad as I felt like she was in the room with me. When we left the hospital (next day) it felt like I had left something behind. I had. My husband Nathan just looked around after we left the hospital room, said goodbye and started to shed a tear. As soon as we walked out of the doors to get into the car I just cried and cried.

When we got home I was given some medication to help me sleep, I remember Nathan and I cuddling, he then gave me her little bed and a teddy bear I grew up with. I cried myself to sleep.

The next day I was numb, hateful, scared, non-believing and worst of all like someone had ripped my heart and soul out. The thought if starting IVF again made me so tired.

I was told what had happened was called PROM, (Preterm Premature Rupture of Membranes) and in our case for no reason at all, as the pathology results came back negative for any infections. I was told I was just one of the unlucky people that it happened to, what cold comfort.

I am a very hateful person, as how could this happen to us for no reason and it took four years to finally conceive our miracle little girl, our daughter. And she was taken away from us.

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