My Miscarriage of Justice

Miscarriage, even the word sounds cold. Like it should be whispered behind the back of a hand or mouthed to a friend with a raised eyebrow. Up until recently, I hadn’t really considered it. You never do, until it happens to you.

You know how it goes, you’re busy, things are happening around you (like my upcoming wedding) and you miss a period, start to go off tea, feel not quite yourself etc. So you buy a test and feel rather stupid for not figuring it out in the first place. After the shock resides, the happiness grows and you start to contemplate how life will be. What will they be, boy or girl? I already had a perfect little girl – would I now get a boy to finish off the set? Or will it be a sister for her, a precious sister, like I had. Will they resemble the first or be different? How lovely to start getting things out the loft. Should we start moving our little girl into the big room and buy her a new bed? All these baby thoughts accompanied the nightmare of rearranging wedding plans, faking a water infection on my Hen Do (they all guessed but pretended they didn’t, bless them) the weight that I had lost due to taking up running would now go straight back on – so that wedding dress had to go back. I bought a pretty maternity dress and was pleased by how it showed my already forming bump (it pops right back out with the second). We were lucky enough that I would have my scan before the wedding, so I could tell people and drink sparkling water with the toasts.

Then one Saturday whilst out with my mother in law to-be, I started to bleed and the shock of it wouldn’t register at first. I remember frowning at myself in the bathroom mirror, what had I done? Was it that glass of wine on that night out before I had known? The running? Had I stressed too much? Was it because I was shocked rather than happy at first? What had I done to make this happen?

At A&E I was told by a kind nurse that it didn’t look promising but ‘never say never’, a pretty negative response to begin with, if you ask me. She explained we needed to come back on Monday to the Early Pregnancy Unit (EPU), the sonographers weren’t in at the weekend. My partner was at his stag do. I was hesitant to call him, there was part of me that couldn’t face him and the other part didn’t want to wreck his weekend but my sister bollocked me and made me do it, which of course, was the right decision. When he came home we leaned on each other for comfort and said the ‘right’ things but neither of us were sure of how we felt.

“At least we will have some answers, at least it will be over then” We said encouragingly to each other. The nurse in the EPU gave us a little information but explained that because it was such early days we would need to come back to be scanned again so they could see if there had been any growth or not. Also, we may lose the baby in the meantime. We came out shocked and bewildered. No answers and a possible miscarriage to look forward to, so we cried and waited.

On the Sunday evening I had some serious pain that took me straight back to the scary labour of my first child – but I didn’t give myself the luxury of pain killers, just in case. No one talks about the pain, it really hurt. And of course, I thought that was it but the hospital were unsure – they told me that sometimes that happens in pregnancy and not to lose hope.

I sent back my maternity wedding dress and after a disastrous attempt at buying a dress from a boutique (which I hated) I finally ordered a few online and picked the one I was most comfortable in. I think this gives you a pretty big clue as to how positive I was feeling. But in all honesty it was like a rollercoaster ride, we had alternate good and bad progress reports whenever we spoke to the hospital. I felt like it would never be over – half the time I was unsure whether I wanted it to be.

In all, I had to be scanned 3 times and we were in limbo for 4 weeks, at the end of each week we would state methodically “At least we will have some answers, at least it will be over then”. The Medias representation of a miscarriage is about as laughably believable as their representation of a woman’s orgasm. My utter confidence that it would happen quickly and quietly was horribly incorrect. Thankfully my boss is a woman, not a particularly maternal woman but a logical, sane woman who knew that I wasn’t necessarily ill but did understand that my heart was breaking and told me in no uncertain terms, to not come back until I was okay.

The nurse at the EPU eventually told us that there was no baby, just a sack. My appointment to have the debris removed would be that Friday – a week before my wedding. I had the luxury of my own room and although it was a pretty uneventful procedure, I needed to stay the night before ‘to save my bed’. All of the staff in the hospital were kind to me, all of them were calm and sweet. When I woke up after the operation, I was crying and a nurse sat beside my bed holding my hand. I apologised (because I’m British) and she smiled sympathetically and said “Everybody cries, love”.

There was magic in the air on the day of my wedding. The day was bright, I felt like a million dollars and everyone had a good time. The night before, my husband to-be sat me down and said; “Look at it logically, we didn’t lose a baby we lost a sack” And something in the way he said it stuck with me, so on my wedding day each of my smiles was the real deal and it was special, exciting and beautiful.

Then time moves on and the excitement dwindles and you chat it through a million times and still can’t quite believe it. I know there was no baby to begin with, I understand the logic of it but it doesn’t take away the magic and the mystery of pregnancy. My god, being pregnant is shrouded in mystery, your due date is calculated from your last period, not the conception date because they don’t know! No one is 100% sure of whether you are having a boy or a girl, sonographers are good but they can sometimes get it wrong. You have no idea of the colour of your child’s eyes, who they will resemble, whether they will be a ‘good’ person or the spoilt little shit you see spitting in the ball pool. Everything about pregnancy is mysterious and I do understand that no one could tell me for certain what had gone so terribly wrong. But it doesn’t make it any easier.

It doesn’t take away the nagging feeling that it might have been you that has failed and it doesn’t stop you wondering what might have been. And then, of course, pregnancy is everywhere. Whether you are stuck in the nightmare cycle of ‘trying’ (and failing) or have had a miscarriage, LIFE goes on and people procreate like no-ones business. Friends are pregnant, cousins are pregnant, colleagues are pregnant, so just in case you wanted some respite from the hopelessness and anguish, you can’t, quite frankly, because someone who recently tripped and fell over a penis is now well and truly up the duff.

No one talks about it. 1 in 4 women have a miscarriage but no one talks about it. So I thought I might try it. I thought maybe if I dispel some of the myths along with some of the others that have lifted their heads above the parapet, maybe people can begin to discuss it. So you don’t feel so hopeless and alone. So you know that other people have been through it and maybe are going through it right this minute. And instead of saying things like “At least you weren’t further along” or “Better luck next time” (both of which were said to me) you can grieve with the person and say “I’m so sorry for your loss, how are you coping?”

Recently I moaned at my mother for telling people about my miscarriage. I got cross and told her that it was like ‘gossiping’ and she should have kept it private. That was because I felt ashamed and I shouldn’t have. She was just as hurt about it as I was and it was therapeutic to get it off her chest. I was wrong to think she would gossip about me. I understand now that she was proud of me and thought me brave. And I am brave to a certain extent, anyone who deals with death is brave and should be proud of themselves. Miscarriage shouldn’t be a dirty little secret. It wasn’t my fault and it isn’t yours.


  • lisa simpson says:

    Wow Lauren this made me cry hun. Very brave to go through this as well as planing your wedding. I obviously had no idea and I wish you every success in the future. Thanks for sharing I know I am one of the lucky ones but if I’m honest with a very stressful year I have been thinking the worse is going to happen all the time. They are miracles and we need to remember how lucky we are every day. Lots and lots of love. Lisa xxxx

    • langfool says:

      Thanks Lisa, really appreciate the love and support mate! Pregnancy is terrifying no matter the outcome and it’s great that we all support each other. I’ll be genuinely pleased and happy to see your little one, bet you can’t wait! Fingers crossed for an easygoing (as much as poss) birth x x x

  • Em says:

    Lauren, you are definitely a super brave lady. How you coped with all that and the terrible timing with your wedding, I really don’t know. I can’t pretend to know how you are feeling, but I do know that it must be heartbreaking for you both.
    Hopefully by baring all it will give someone else the courage to talk about how they are feeling too.
    Stay strong lovely lady x

    • langfool says:

      As you were one of the people that helped me chat it through I can only thank you for all the support mate. Only got the courage to share because I am fortunate enough to have friends like you x x

  • Sarah Price says:

    Lauren, you are an amazing lady and brave for sharing such personal heartbreak and at a time when your wedding was so close. I don’t think we really talk about such loss and I’m not sure why. I send you much love and hope each day you feel stronger xx

  • Sara says:

    What a beautiful and honest blog, and funny in parts too. I can totally relate to everything you have said, I had a misscarriage 10 years ago and now cant get pregnant for love nor money and I mean a lot of money. Thats why the bit about people falling onto someones penis and getting pregnant made me laugh. Thanks for sharing this and Im sending you my thoughts and best wishes. PS – you looked beautiful on your wedding day!

    • langfool says:

      Sara, I never knew. It’s an absolute nightmare when you are trying. I wish you all the luck in the world and know you will make a wonderful mom. Thanks for being brave and telling me too. Ha, yes! Glad I made you giggle, you have to laugh don’t you mate. X

  • Claire Jones says:

    Lauren you are so brave for sharing your story and you are so right so many women feel that they can’t talk about it but if pieces like this help women and men (they might not experience the physical but surely feel the emotional impact) know that they aren’t alone then it may make other people’s journeys easier. I am so sorry for your loss and what you went though so close to your magical day – you still looked fab though xx loads of love

    • langfool says:

      Thank you mate, really appreciate your support. Fab to have support from work at such a horrid time. You’re right about the guys. Let’s hope some blokes tell their side of the story too. X x

  • Ellie says:

    Beautifully honest and eye opening xxxx you have done yourself proud x

  • Natalie says:

    Lol, I am guilty of not exactly brushing your miscarriage under the carpet, but with no experience and being a ‘Black Country bird’ with limited vocab to say what I felt, I struggled to talk openly. You have opened your heart and yes us ‘British’ should learn to open ours. I’m a big believer that we can take something from everything and pass it on to help others, you’ve done just that, thank you xx

    • langfool says:

      Thanks Nat, appreciate your honestly. Sometimes A smile and a squeeze of the hand is just as helpful xx

  • Carly Trainor says:

    Hi Hun, a very close friend sent me this link as only last year I unfortunately suffered the same unfortunate fate. Reading your blog was so touching & scarey in the sense that I was reading something I had written. I’m sorry this has happened to you & know how you must be feeling. I remember very well the comments of “that’s why you shouldn’t say anything before 12 weeks” (like that’s what caused my miscarriage!) Or “everything happens for a reason” (oh well that’s ok then!). The part about falling onto a penis…..brilliant…….so true……oh and not fair!! It doesn’t matter if u are 4 weeks or 4 months, two lines on that test showed up & whether it be shock, excitement or pure love, it was your/our babies & they were there! Chin up chickie & thinking of you. Xxx

    • langfool says:

      Thanks Carly, amazing how many of us have suffered the same fate. Thanks for the support, appreciate the love. Oh yeah people love to remind you of how you ‘shouldn’t talk about it’ before 12 weeks. Maybe if we did, our friends would know the heartache of losing our babies? X x x

  • Amy Roberts says:

    Amazingly written Lauren

  • Hayley james says:

    Lauren I have just read this and just wanted to say how brave, strong and inspiring you are. You’ve always inspired me from watching you train when I first joined support at work. You have such a way about you and still you continue to do this with how open and honest you have been to talk about such an unfortunate thing that you and your new hubby have gone throughu. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through, and all so close to your wedding. Yet you remain positive and manage to make the most out of an awful situation by opening up and raising awareness of miscarriage. Well done, great blog xx

    • langfool says:

      Aww Hayley, that is so lovely. Thank you, feels so good to read your comments. It was pretty scary posting such a honest blog but I’m glad I did it. X x x

  • Sandra Langford says:

    My Wonderful Daughter, once again you take the wind out of my sails. Thanks for the home truths…..I know “big mouth”, “coping mechanism”, even though I am a Grandmother I do try to get better. Being a parent is difficult but when I look at you and read your thoughts I know I have done something right. Love you so xx

  • Kelly Elliott says:

    Amazingly written. Every emotion you felt I had the same. I wish miscarriage was spoken about more maybe people would have a better understanding of it. I hated being told 1 in 4 women suffer miscarriages I didn’t want to be that 1 I also never wanted a good friend to either. Hete for you always xxx

    • langfool says:

      Thanks Kel, I was honestly shocked with those statistics. How can that be when we never hear about it?! Thank you for posting that news article on fb, I was really struggling with whether I was going to post this until I read your post. It was that, that gave me the courage to do it. Sending huge love to you at such a sad time my friend. X x x

  • Robyn Werner says:

    Well done mate for putting yourself out there and sharing your story with us. I’m really sorry that you guys went through such a horrible and sad experience. The human body and pregnancy in particular is such a fragile phenomenon and for the most part totally out of your control. I had a friend who went through a few miscarriages and a stillbirth before having two beautiful children so when I fell pregnant I was aware how common it was and I found it really scary. I didn’t want to get too excited. I hope that talking about it brings you comfort and the days are getting easier. It’s important to remember that just because it happened once doesn’t mean it will happen again. Thinking of you and sending love your way. Hope you’re doing good xoxo

    • langfool says:

      Thanks Rob, it was pretty shit time but writing this has been really cathartic. I’m really happy for you no your fella. Your little boy looks gorgeous. Sending love across the sea to you guys x x x

  • Christine Healy says:

    My heart goes out to you and Aaron. You’re so right about people not wanting to talk about miscarriage, for too long it has been a taboo subject kept within the confines of close family members. Only time and talking can help ease the pain of losing a loved one, as you know all too well. I hope your endeavours to bring this heartbreaking subject into the open are successful and your bitter/sweet year ends on a positive for you, Aaron and Willow x

    • langfool says:

      Thank you so much Christine. I really appreciate the love and support. It’s always a risky time putting yourself out there but the response has been brilliant. Take care and hope to meet up again soon. X x

  • Lynsey says:

    Wonderfully written as always Lol. It’s so cruel and unfair and it can have repercussions in your life days, months and even years later . It’s very hard to put it into words all the thoughts and feelings that you can go through, but you have done it beautifully. xxx

  • Clare says:

    You looked happy and beautiful on your wedding day and I was so so proud of you, I don’t know how you did it xx

  • Lou Drew says:

    Wow Lauren – what a powerful and heartfelt blog. You are very brave to share your personal story. My journey to becoming a mum was a long and difficult one and I can totally relate to the “pregnancy is everywhere” bit. How “far you are along” is irrelevant; a loss is a loss. Miscarriage is not only the loss of a pregnancy, but the loss of a future with it’s hopes and dreams of what might be. Thank you very much for sharing hun xxx

    • langfool says:

      Cheers Lou, really appreciate your support. So glad it’s relatable and that things have worked out for you too. Amazing how many women have gone through something similar. Hope all good with you x x

  • Big sister littler says:

    I am both extremely proud and humbled by your excellent use of humour to share something so not funny, yet deeply poignant. All the way through that journey – there was nothing written or shared by others to mentally hold your hand. Now, thanks to you lol there is. Sadly, there will be others but thank the lords they can go through their shit journey knowing that you are mentally holding their hands through each shitty step! You my sister rock!!!! Bravo and keep smiling – love you xxxxx

    • langfool says:

      Thank you! At least I had a amazing support from all of my friends and family but especially my equally brave and wonderful sister. Love you x x

  • jools says:

    Lauren ! You are a very brave girl. What a moving piece .. My heart goes out to you both (because I’m sure Aaron was heart broken too!) I really feel for you and I’m so relieved you can see its not your fault and you did nothing to deserve it. Sometimes its all so easy to think it might have been something you did and to blame yourself but sadly these terrible things happen its cruel and its unfair and we often never get a an answer as to why ! BUT you have soldiered on – you are an inspiration — you have shared your story and I’m sure this can only be a positive for all the other lovely ladies out there who don’t know what life has in store for them. You should feel proud – you will pull through– you’re one strong lady you just don’t realise it yet. love n hugs xx p.s wedding photos were beautiful

  • Sukie says:

    Lauren, that really reads as it is written, from the heart. I am sure many others who are perhaps going through the same will appreciate your words, which will will provide insight, understanding and appreciation of a very shit situation.
    I admired how you handled it all throughout, you still hung on to your sense of humour and focused on getting through it, even though I know sometimes that was all just a brave front. I was glad to help in any way, you know my thinking, we all go to work to earn some money, and there are more important things in life, like family, health, and us, it isn’t selfish to put ourselves first occasionally, sometimes it is bloody well justified (well in my case all the time)!
    I’m so glad you enjoyed your special day with Aaron and was strong enough to focus on that as a positive.

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