Little Bean lets go

Hi all, I hope you've had a good week. I must admit that I've been feeling pretty low for the past week or so, among other things that I won't go into here I had a negative pregnancy test and I'm still waiting for my period to come. I'm on day 35 and although I've been getting period pains there's absolutely no sign of AF. I want to get it over and done with now so we can try again in my next cycle but I can tell that isn't going to happen for some time. I've also been having pain in the area where Passenger was, I'm not sure what to do. However, one positive thing has happened this week, I got one half of my remembrance tattoo done in honour of our Little Bean. It's a feather in a sort of yin yang style black meaning feminine, representing me and Little Bean as the bright blue heart inside.

I'm super chuffed with the result, just waiting for the swelling to go down now! I'm getting the other half done on my other foot on Tuesday - white feather for masculine meaning Rob with Little Passenger inside as a bright pink heart. 

My last post took us to the end of 2015, on Jan 5th 2016 we moved into our current home in Peterborough nearby to Rob's parents and friends. It was (and still is actually) an old fashioned bungalow needing some decorative TLC but everything structurally solid and in working order. Rob started his new job literally the day after in Cambridge so I was left to unpack and clean the place up. I continued to bleed throughout those days leading up to this point, nothing so bad as the first night mind you, much more like a normal period but it dragged on and on. I was on the verge of tears continuously, I didn't sleep much. I became gradually withdrawn, sitting staring into space trying to process everything that had happened. I couldn't get my head around it all, so much had happened. I'd left a job I really liked for the past five years, I'd left the people I loved there, they were my support network through anything and I'd left when I needed them most. A miscarriage is truly awful at the best of times never mind when we were buying our first home, moving in and starting new jobs each. I've often thought whether it was that stress of the house that caused the miscarriage, is there anything I could have done differently? Should I have exercised more or less? Should I have changed my diet? All these unanswered questions spun around in my head from the moment I woke up until I finally got to sleep at night. 

I tried meditation to calm myself down, every night before bedtime I would sit in the dark and try so hard to clear my mind. I think it did help in some way, it helped me get to sleep faster but I don't know if that was my body shutting myself down. Unfortunately it didn't keep me asleep, I'd wake two, three, four times each night at least and struggle to get back to sleep again. When I was asleep I had vivid dreams, not nightmares as such where I'd wake up covered in a sheen of sweat but disturbing dreams where I would go through the miscarriage all over again. In other dreams I would be judged and spat at for miscarrying, like I had a choice. I would try explaining to the crowds of people surrounding me while I caught the clots in my trembling hands that this isn't what I wanted, I never ever wanted to lose this baby, it was snatched from me cruelly, unfairly and I couldn't help what was happening to me. There was another dream where I went though the miscarriage again then the next second I was looking at tiny feet in my hands, they were almost translucent, pink and wrinkly little things, unmoving and clammy. 

A couple of days later I went to our new local hospital for another scan to check the medical management had expelled all of the pregnancy tissue. Rob was at work, I know he would have come but with him starting a new job he didn't want to start on the wrong foot so his mum came with me. We waited in another early pregnancy unit waiting room, everyone had anxious faces. I don't know how anyone could work there, I couldn't drag myself out of bed everyday to see so much pain. Finally we were called in, there was a consultant and a sonographer in the room and they scanned me internally, I laid on the bed, I craned my neck round once again, Bean was gone. Tears rolled from the corners of my eyes and gathered in my hair and ears. Our Little Bean had let go of me. My mother-in-law held my hand tight, I had no words, just tremendous sadness knotted in my throat I could scarcely breathe. The miscarriage was over, it had taken four weeks. We were led into an office room, a different nurse came in with my paperwork and explained my uterus lining was still a little thickened. Again they gave me my options, wait two weeks, medical management or surgery. I couldn't take it anymore! I said surgery but the nurse was reluctant, she said it wouldn't normally be done that way for a thickened lining. I pushed further, I didn't want medical management again and I'd waited too long, I needed this to be over so I could start gathering my life back together again. She left the room and I went to do another pregnancy test, I noticed as I was walking back there was a heated discussion going on in the scanning room but I didn't think much of it and took my seat to wait for the nurse. A few minutes later she appeared and immediately said "I'm sorry but forget everything I just said ten minutes ago." The notes were wrong, Bean's gestational sac had been retained in my womb, the medical management had failed to a degree. Bean was still gone, he had let go and was now at peace but my body was desperately trying to keep hold of whatever was left of him. I really believe my grief had affected how my body reacted to the medication, I wasn't ready to let go, so I didn't. 

I broke down again, one minute I was being told that only a layer of uterine lining remained now I was told the medical management had only partially worked. I couldn't take this roller coaster of information. I couldn't take those medical management pills again. The nurse was horrified that a mistake had been made hence the heated discussion I had accidentally overheard. She told us that the consultant was able to perform surgery on me after seeing how emotional I was in the scanning room. It was by chance she was in there otherwise I may not have been given the choice of surgery. I was booked in to have the procedure the following morning and I went home feeling I'd been battered. My head throbbed, my eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying, the darkness surrounding me slowly closed in. My soul dissolved a little further into nothingness.

I can't remember talking to Rob that night, I was numb, grief had enveloped me I guess as a coping mechanism, a sort of grief coma. My brain only contained thoughts of Bean and of surgery.

Refusing to let go

Hi everyone, I hope you are all well and continuing to enjoy the nice weather. This weekend has been a tiring one as I walked just over 20 hilly miles with my dad, uncle and mother-in-law over the North Yorkshire Moors. It's fair to say I am aching today but it was a stunningly pretty walk, although very hard and I had to be patched up throughout, thank goodness for compeed blister patches!

My last post covered probably the first week or so of the "two week wait" leading up to Christmas 2015, I'll carry on from there...

Our Christmas of 2015 was the worst of my whole life, in fact it didn't happen, to us it was another day there was no cheer or celebration. We had no Christmas dinner, no presents, no Christmas tree, it was dire. We were deep in grief and I was on the hunt for answers why we had miscarried. I am a biological scientist and as a scientist I naturally need answers and understand why things happen. I'm one of those people who search their symptoms on the internet for example. 

I found the common causes of miscarriage - mostly a defect in the genetic or chromosomal make up of the embryo either caused by a dodgy egg or sperm where nothing can be done. But I did come across other websites stating that too much Vitamin C can cause miscarriage and there were even websites giving instructions on how to bring on a miscarriage for unwanted pregnancies. It basically said to overdose on the fizzy multivitamins and it would cause a miscarriage. I must admit I did try this method as the two weeks wore on but it did not work. I was pretty shocked there are these websites out there basically saying how to have a home-made abortion in my opinion. I found other websites claiming menthol caused miscarriage, this worried me greatly as I'd had a terrible cold the same day as I started spotting and I had used menthol crystals the help with my congested sinuses, although I had researched before using them and had mixed reviews I'd taken no other medication and was suffering greatly so I used the crystals. That played on my mind quite a bit, I couldn't forgive myself if Bean had died because of something I did. But Bean had stopped growing 2 weeks before that point so that couldn't have been the cause. I also researched into miscarriage-causing foods in case I had eaten something I shouldn't have and it came up with cinnamon as a possible cause, again this brought up a lot of concern for me as I had eaten porridge with cinnamon on almost everyday of my pregnancy. I was becoming frantic trying to find a reason, something or someone to blame. Of course I blamed myself entirely even though there was nothing I could have done. Luckily throughout this frantic period Rob was there all the time, he gently brought me back down to earth giving me the facts that there was no one at fault, we both did everything we could have done for Bean, his  genetics just weren't compatible with life, no one is to blame.

While I was making unhealthy internet searches Rob on the other hand was making much healthier ones, at the hospital I'd been directed to the Miscarriage Association website but had failed to go on there, Rob however had made an account for the forum for me to get support from others who had suffered loss. The people on there really are amazing, each message is moderated and the moderators themselves sometimes send personalised messages to you via email. I would guess all of the people responding to forum posts have experienced loss whether it be miscarriage, missed miscarriage, blighted ovum, chemical pregnancy etc. Although it was a little while until I used the website myself once I did it really did help me hugely and because it was linked to Rob's email address he saw my posts once he had a notification that it had been approved. So even when I was very closed off it allowed him to see what I was feeling at that time. 

The two week wait drew to a close, the new year was approaching, our property contract was almost signed, my last day of my job was on its way, but my body refused to give up our Little Bean. We went back to the hospital on the 30th December for another scan via the park and ride as the parking situation at the hospital was so bad. They scanned me and confirmed what I already knew, I had not miscarried naturally, I still retained Bean even though I had had a few more spotting spells. The gestational sac was steadily breaking down, Bean still measured 4mm no more than 6 weeks gestation, in normal circumstances I should have been around 11 weeks. It broke my heart anew when I saw him again on the screen, why was life so cruel? I couldn't believe we had to go through this pain. 

After the scan the Doctor gave us our options again, we could wait another two weeks, have medical management, or surgery. The idea of waiting another two weeks was not an option now as I was soon to start my new job in Cambridge on the 11th January. Surgery frightened me having never experienced anything like that before and we'd have to wait a few days so we opted for medical management, equally terrifying but I couldn't let this linger on for much longer, I needed some sort of end so I could start to grieve properly and process everything that had happened and start to rebuild myself. 

We were sent off and I had some bloods taken, I don't remember what for, possibly to determine pregnancy hormone levels and blood type but not sure. Then we waited around two hours for those blood test results. We came back to the Early Pregnancy Unit, we were the last to be seen for the day, the nurse explained the tablets to be inserted vaginally cause the cervix to dilate and bring on the miscarriage. Another tablet would be inserted anally, an antibiotic to prevent any infection. And strong painkillers to be taken anally and orally. She explained I could experience period-type cramping that could feel quite severe and will obviously have heavy bleeding. Any very severe pain or very heavy bleeding and we should go to A&E. I signed a bunch of stuff saying I understood and agreed to the procedure. We were almost ready to go, in passing she asked where we were parked and we explained we had used the park and ride as that was advised since the parking at the hospital was so terrible. She stopped dead and said she couldn't allow me to go through with the procedure then travel back to the car via bus. I totally accept that and it was nice she was looking out for us but why couldn't she have explained that beforehand!? We'd just been waiting over two hours. It was just another stress on top of everything else, Rob had to get back to the car as quickly as he could and get back to the hospital again which took over half an hour. 

Depending on the hospital you are in depends on how they handle medical management of miscarriage, where we were the nurse explained to me how the tablets should be inserted as I had to do it myself. She put us both in a small room with a bed and a curtain, laid out the tablets, left the room and locked the door. I inserted the tablets with tears steaming down my face soaking the pillow behind my head while Rob held my hand standing by the bed. I couldn't believe this was happening. My brain could not process the situation at all. When it was done I was given a large square pad to sit on and a thick pregnancy sanitary pad, I was told to expect the miscarriage to start in the next two hours.

As mentioned earlier we were nearing completion of buying our first home while all of this was going on. On this particular day Rob and his dad were meant to have been packing up all of our furniture to temporarily store. We were due to get the keys and move out of our current place on Monday 4th January, the 30th December was the only day they could hire a van in time. We were moving two and a half hours drive away and the van hire was in Rob's name from a depot where we were moving to. It's a little complicated but a long story short it meant that I would end up being on my own at home while the tablets were taking affect, having been quite a solitary couple we didn't have anyone nearby who could look after me while Rob was gone. Luckily though one of my best friends Vicky came to the rescue, she travelled down from Leeds at short notice to make sure I was ok, we watched Bridget Jones' Diary and laughed and cried. She got me talking about other things whenever I became quiet, I was scared of the pain and what I will see in the next few hours, there was going to be a lot of blood, would I see our Little Bean? Will I miss seeing him? I think I was more scared of missing him and not seeing the foetal tissue. 

Rob and his dad were packing away our furniture while me and Vicky watched films, slowly our rental house became more and more empty. By the time the van was packed up we only had a couple of camping chairs and a blow up mattress left. About 4 hours passed before the bleeding started, I passed a small handful of clot rich with blood which plopped into the toilet, even though I didn't have a lot of pain it was a very frightening experience seeing all of that blood in the toilet water. It physically felt odd as well, I would feel a clot begin to make it way down and get the the bathroom in time pretty much every time. After the first clot I even caught the others in my hand before looking at them closely to see if there was any grey foetal tissue there. I really don't know if that was healthy behaviour or not, I think it was a mixture of scientific curiosity and the fear of not seeing our baby after effectively giving birth to him, I think there was an element of still not wanting to let go as well so catching what was leaving me seemed to make sense. I did see some jelly-like substance during that night with a tiny Bean-shaped blob nestled inside, we believe that was our Little Bean. I didn't keep the tissue, parts of me wish I did, but I threw it down the loo. I must admit I feel pretty guilty about that. But I take comfort in believing we saw our Bean.

After the van was packed and Rob's dad had driven away, Vicky left us, I won't be able to thank her enough for what she did for me that night. She was truly amazing and made me laugh while I was going through the most awful procedure. We slept on a blow up mattress that night, I awoke often and bled steadily. The smell of blood was strong in the room and Rob had to wake me once because of the smell and I passed a large clot, again into my own hand then into the toilet. Up to this point I hadn't required the strong painkillers but during that night I had experienced stronger cramping and in order to try get some sleep I took some of the codeine.

The next day was my last day of my job, of course I wouldn't have normally have gone in after the medical management but I needed to clear my desk and say goodbye to my work colleagues as I'd not seen them in two weeks. I still can't believe I went in at all but I even did some work as well, I can't have been in my right mind. I was still bleeding but it was much like a normal period now, all of the clots had been passed the previous night, I still felt some tenderness and took the codeine as and when I needed. 

That takes us to the end of 2015, needless to say New Year's Eve was much like Christmas, there was nothing to celebrate and I was in bed (the blow up bed I mean) and asleep by 9pm. I was exhausted, my body had finally shut me down, I'm surprised I'd even got as far as I did. The amount of stress was enormous with the moving house stuff on top of the miscarriage. 

Phew! That was a really long post, apologies for that, I thought I'd make up for the shorter one from last week by getting to the end of 2015 in this one. It covers only a week or so but so much happened in that week. It marks the end of the first part of my story. As always thank you so much for reading and if you have any similar experiences feel free to comment. I'm particularly interested in whether others have had to administer their own miscarriage tablets for medical management like I had to.

Thanks a lot,

Love, Adele xxxx

The two week wait

Happy Easter everyone, I hope you are having a pleasant long weekend and indulged sufficiently in Easter eggs and hot cross buns! I've been spending a lot of time in the garden, we are preparing the ground for turf at the moment and it take a lot of time and graft!

I've felt reluctant to write this week, not entirely sure why. I guess the prospect of delving into those dark days is scary.

As we travelled home that day we didn't talk much, I looked out of the window and watched the world blur as tears filled my eyes and trickled hot down my cheeks. My head throbbed and my bones felt heavy, time ran ahead of me while I was transfixed on the spot in that moment when we were told Bean had died. I realise now that time did not move for a very long time for me after that moment. There was a song that has stayed with me throughout this whole experience and I remember it now as Bean's song. It came on the radio and finished just as we were pulling up to our driveway, it was Ghostpoet - Be Right Back, Moving House. I'd never heard it before but it really spoke to me this song, it repeats the lyrics "one day at a time" I took it as a sign and this song became part of my grief and a sort of mantra. 

The two weeks after the news of Bean's death were truly awful, I couldn't face anything, I informed my employer what had happened and my manager was extremely understanding and said to have as much time off as I needed. I barely left the house, in fact I barely left the sofa. I became numb and the world began to darken around me. I'd spoken to my mum and she told me about her suspected miscarriage before I was born, she didn't know she was pregnant at the time and went to the Dr after having an unusually heavy period, they said it was probably a miscarriage and nothing more was done. She hadn't even told my dad about it so that news came out all at the same time, my dad had lost a grandchild and possibly a child all at the same time. 

I became a shell of myself, I don't know how Rob coped, I wasn't there for him, I wasn't there full stop. I'm sorry I wasn't there Rob, I'm sorry you had to keep everything afloat on your own while having to deal with the news yourself. I just stopped functioning, it was uncontrollable grief. Uncontrollable shock. How could this have happened? I can't describe the type of anxiety felt when you dread going to the loo in case you see the start of a miscarriage in your underwear. The tumbling doom when you wake up from a restless nights sleep and you remember what has happened, that sickness in your stomach when reality hits and it wasn't a nightmare.

Christmas approached and we agreed not to bother with a tree or presents. We were thinking of not having a tree as we were very close to completing our house purchase so it wasn't a shock really. I'd had no signs of natural miscarriage, no pain, no blood, no nothing. Part of me thought maybe the Drs got it wrong, maybe Bean was ok, but that feeling would only last a few fleeting seconds and I'd crash down to earth again and be swallowed by grief. 

I started writing as an outlet and meditating to try bring down the stress I felt. I'm going to copy some of the letter I wrote to Bean now.

"I'm sorry I have taken so long to write. Like you I have been here and not here. It had been the worst time of my life. I have felt utterly useless and numb. I've hated myself for not being a better place for you to grow and thrive. I have cried and cried. I have blamed myself for telling too many people too soon. I have to-and-fro-ed about taking medical management so the process will be done and I can grieve for you properly. I've wanted to be so close to your Dad and on my own at the same time. I've wanted to hibernate until you are ready to come out. I'm scared of seeing you - what if I miss you and don't realise you have come out? I'm scared of the pain, where, when it will be, Christmas is so close. I want to run and sleep at the same time. I will run again but it's so hard to get out the door. I knitted clothes for you what do I do with them now? I had already attached them to you? Do hand-me-downs still work when the original recipient hasn't even touched them? I want to eat and starve, I feel I should punish myself.

I don't know how to end this letter. Apart from say how much Mam and Dad love you. And love will remain. We will never forget you. And I am sorry, I'm sorry I let you down. I will miss you forever, I'm sorry your life was so short. The universe is cruel. There will never be another Bean. You are Bean. I love you, I love you, my Little Bean. Love, Mammy xxx"

Reading the hand-written letter in a frantic scrawled manner has brought up a lot of feelings for me there. I can see already that I was going down the hole of depression, I wrote about punishing myself and I remember censoring myself in the letter because I thought Rob would read it but I felt suicidal. I had failed as a woman, I didn't carry a healthy child, I was ashamed and felt I didn't deserve anything. I wanted to hurt myself, I wanted to feel even more pain than I already did. I started saying "what is the point" to myself a lot. I gritted my teeth so hard it hurt to stifle the sobs, I pulled at my hair for the pain sensation. I peeled the skin off my fingers to reveal tender flesh below, I stung all over. 

Going back to those days is very painful but it really tells me how far I've come and how much stronger I am. I'm a strong woman! I mentioned at the start of this post that I was reluctant to write, but now I feel tough and powerful. Everything will be ok because the worst has been already. 

Thank you for reading,

Lots of love, Adele xxxx

The stages of grief: Denial

Hey all, I hope you are enjoying the beautiful weather like we are this week! Over 20 degrees today in Peterborough, pretty much unheard of in April! As well as saying hello to mr sunshine again I have been tracking my cycle in preparation for ttc and I received a letter confirming a genetic consultation appointment has been made for me on the 16th May to discuss the possibility of having genetic testing done on me and my husband Rob. It's been a bit of a struggle even getting to this point but I'm glad I'm in the system now and I'll at least be able to discuss my options with a specialist. I'm preparing myself for refusal for the tests so I want to have my argument ready in my head for the appointment. If anyone has gone through genetic testing before after multiple losses please get in touch with me and share your experiences, I'm pretty anxious about the whole thing.

I'll carry on with Bean's story, last week I was talking about how we had gone back to the early pregnancy unit for our first scan.

Our turn came and we entered the scanning room. We explained the brown spotting and minor car accident and they did an internal scan. We saw Little Bean on the screen and he was so cute (we thought Bean was a boy from the beginning). He actually looked like a Bean and measured 4mm from crown to rump, he had a little tail still like a tadpole. The sonographer asked us how many weeks we were and I said eight. She said Bean was measuring at 6 weeks, I was sure my dates were correct but I thought it was possible for me to count from the day of conception and the hospital could have been counting from the first day of my last period. As a precaution she suggested we have another scan in a weeks time, and we came out of the scan pretty much fine. I was confused by the discrepancy in dates and was a little anxious but that was all.

Since we'd been having to go to Warwick the whole time for these scans we asked if we could book the next one in the John Radcliffe hospital in Oxford which was fine. I rang my gp for a referral and explained our situation, while speaking to her she said it was important to get another scan to find out if the pregnancy had mistaken dates or was "a no-goer from the start." At the time I found these use of words pretty insensitive but thinking now I think her choice of words out right shocking and I will never forget that. I understand that GPs will come across stuff like that all the time but to use those words while talking to an anxious patient was not professional in my opinion.

Before long our next scan came along in Oxford in the early pregnancy unit, during the week leading up to it I'd received a text from the hospital alerting me to our 12 week scan scheduled for 30th December 2015. Whenever Rob and I talked about Bean we only wanted to see some growth, we knew a heartbeat may not be detected at only 7 weeks (judging by the first sonographer's prediction) so we just wanted to see Bean bigger than 4mm long.

 I remember feeling desperate for the loo before the scan as they said they may do a normal external scan first, they were also running late with the appointments as an emergency case had come in. By the time our appointment finally came the nurse said they'd do an internal scan anyway so I was allowed to go to the loo! Again they asked how many weeks and we explained our dates and the scan dates. Then they scanned me, she was quiet for a little while while I craned my head round to see Bean on the screen. Then I heard "sorry". In those first moments I remember everything and nothing at the same time. I remember gasping and my hand on my mouth, I remember lying there with rob beside me on the chair wondering what had just happened. I broke down into a fit of emotion and didn't hear anything like I was enveloped in a cloud. My world pretty much crashed at that moment, it changed forever. There had been no growth, no heartbeat, Bean had not grown for the past 3 weeks. 

Before I knew it I had been bundled into a spare consultation room, they had to move me quickly so they didn't frighten the other expectant mothers in the waiting room, I had to try and hold my emotions for those few steps to the room. We were left in there for what seemed like an age, I have no idea how long it actually was. I cried, I begged, I crumpled into a heap on the chair, the whole world seemed to darken around me like I was in a tunnel. I remember being lifted onto my feet by Rob, he was so strong emotionally while I fell apart, I can't imagine the pain he felt at that moment, because even though we didn't know it then, he was about to lose his baby and his wife all at the same time. 

I buried my face into his chest as we stood there together while the world around us fell apart. I don't remember if I spoke, I can imagine myself asking questions out loud but I don't know what they were. My mind became a fog, a very dark, cold, foggy place. I don't remember anything Rob said I just felt everything close in around me.

Eventually someone came in to see us, she asked if I had any pregnancy symptoms, I told her I hadn't suffered morning sickness but had had some severe fatigue that had improved over the last few weeks. She then proceeded to tell us our "options". First was to wait two weeks to see if my body would recognise the missed miscarriage and react accordingly. Second was medical management of the missed miscarriage where tablets would be inserted to bring on a miscarriage. And the third was surgical management. How dare they give me these options when 30mins before I thought I would have a healthy baby inside me? How could they talk to me about inducing miscarriage so early after I was told? There was no way I was ready to let Bean go, so I opted for conservative management, I was to wait two weeks and see if I would miscarry naturally. 

Now it's been a while since this happened I can look back with a different mindset. In hindsight when the nurse had asked me about my symptoms I understand now that my energy levels had started picking up again around the time that Bean had ceased to grow. I wish she had explained that Bean was measuring at 6 weeks while I was at 9weeks pregnant, meaning he had not grown for 3 weeks, I wish she would have explained the likelihood of my body realising in another two weeks that Bean had died when it had failed to realise for 3 weeks already. Maybe I still would have gone with the conservative choice and waited, maybe I would have thought about medical management. Maybe I wouldn't have heard her even if she had told me these things. Maybe she would have said these things if I wasn't such a mess to begin with. Either way I opted to wait the two weeks to see if I would miscarry naturally, I see now I was probably in denial which I believe was totally understandable for the time frame, everything seemed to move so fast in terms of the next steps but the time in my mind seemed to be moving through treacle. I couldn't process the information I had been given, so there was no way I was going to make a big decision like medical management. After the decision was made we were given another appointment for two weeks time - which happened to be the 30th December 2015, our original 12 week scan date which I thought was incredibly cruel then we were sent home.

While writing this portion of the blog I asked Rob if he felt he had any say in that decision making process. He felt like he didn't really have a say but that was because he wasn't carrying Bean so it was ultimately my decision. Later on in the blog I'd like to get a fathers point of view when it comes to miscarriage, I think it would be beneficial for Rob and myself to get it written down. 

That's all for today, thank you for reading and if you have any comments or similar experiences get in contact.

Love, Adele xxx

Fairytale starts to fade

Hey everybody! The past week has been pretty good for me, I've been learning to use Instagram for the first time and now have a page Our.Pale.Days. I'm posting as often as I can so while I delve into my past here, my present life will be documented there until my story catches up to itself. Please add me if you are interested in my tale of Bean and Passenger. 

Now I'll continue Bean's story..

At the beginning of December we arranged to go up North to visit my parents for an early Christmas, we were both looking forward to seeing the family and I was happy my fatigue and achey boobs had eased off considerably.

It was the Friday before we went to see my parents, I was at home waiting for Rob to come home from work. I went to the loo and saw brown discharge on the toilet tissue after wiping. I remember a wave of terror run through me like pins and needles. There wasn't very much on the tissue and nothing in my knickers but I rang Rob straight away and he suggested ringing NHS 111 - a free 24hour number patients can ring for advice on symptoms that are not serious enough for A&E. The man on the phone was pretty good, he asked me if I had had any pain and whether any of the blood was red rather than brown. I'd had no other symptoms and he referred me to a doctor who rang me back within an hour or so who asked me the same questions again. There had been no change in my symptoms and no more blood was seen. She said it wasn't uncommon to see dark blood during the first trimester of pregnancy but to take thing easy for the next few days. She also said not to travel, which admittedly I ignored as we were due to visit my family 5hours away by car the next day. I figured As Rob always does the driving all I would be doing is sitting in the car and what difference is that to sitting at home on the sofa?

My anxiety continued to rise when Rob came home that evening and I cried and I was scared and frightened. I researched extensively what brown blood in first trimester meant. Although it came up with the word miscarriage it also associated it with abdominal pain and bright red blood and heavy bleeding all of which I didn't have at all. 

The next morning we travelled to my parents and actually had a great early Christmas. We didn't mention the brown spotting and I remained on the plan of not eating soft cheese or drinking.

On the Sunday we set off home again, we'd managed a pretty good run and hadn't even had a break on the 5 hour drive. During a 40mph stretch along the motorway the car overtaking us momentarily distracted Rob with his lights in the wing mirror as he passed. The car in front of us broke suddenly and I shouted, Rob broke as hard as he could but there wasn't enough room and we hit the car in front at around 25-30mph. No damage was made to either drivers or passengers and the cars didn't suffer much but I instantly thought of Bean. I had no pain but I rang 111 again and explained the situation. They suggested that we go to A&E to be checked over. 

We waited around 3 hours in Warwick A&E before I was seen, again I had no pain during that time or bleeding or any sort. They did a pregnancy test which came back positive and booked me in for an early scan the next day. Needless to say that night was an anxious and sleepless one but I was hopeful, Bean was safely nestled deep in my pelvis as I was only around 8 weeks, I'd had no pain and no bleeding. I tried to keep calm and I didn't want to upset Bean by being stressed.

At the time I thought I was stressed out and anxious but knowing what I know now, I had no idea what stress was then and I was very naive. Even though we knew of the first 12 weeks being the danger zone of pregnancy it was only a little seed of doubt in my mind and I never really thought anything was wrong, after all we were two young healthy individuals who had only taken 3 months to conceive. 

So we went along to the early scan at Warwick hospital (a little way from Oxfordshire where we rented a little place). As we waited I saw the anxious faces around us, a couple in particular really stick in my mind. I young woman and I guess to be her boyfriend or husband came out of the scanning room, their faces were grave and I overheard the girl say "I knew it, I knew it." The partner didn't say anything as he carried her coat and bag. It was obvious they'd been given bad news and a relayed it to Rob with a look. They sat back into the waiting area which struck me as odd at the time but I guess they were to go into another room to be given their options. I was extremely sorry to see that couple and felt awful for them but it didn't phase me in terms of Bean and our pregnancy, Bean was fine, I'd had no pain, the crash was very minor and the only concern was the brown spotting from Friday which had not occurred since. 

I'll leave it there for this week, I'm trying to keep my word count down per post but if you think it's too long or short please let me know and I'll change the count accordingly.

Hope you have a great week and remember to follow our.pale.days on instagram!

Lots of love, Adele xxx