Quinny's preggo journeys

My first pregnancy and loss

 

Myself and Aids were on the same page of wanting children. Well, almost. I wanted 3 with a possible 4 if we were fortunate enough and able to cope, Aidan wanted a minimum of 5. So we started trying in the January of 2017, just under a year after we got married. After a few months and a few negative tests I fell pregnant in May. I was so excited I ran in and told Aidan the news. We were ridiculous and giddy and started talking dates, names and boy or girl. I was probably only 3 or 4 weeks gone but the excitement was real. I booked in with my GP who confirmed a positive pregnancy in the clinic and gave me all the info about hospitals and choices etc.
I decided to go private in the rotunda as my sister in law had done and went with her consultant the amazing Dr Jennifer Donnelly. In hindsight this was one of the best decisions of my life, if you know my pregnancy history you know why!

I went for an early scan at 7 weeks as that’s included in the cost of going private. Aidan was away at his friend Senan,s wedding and was happy to let my mam come with me for this appointment. I had no symptoms at all so was naturally apprehensive going in. As she started the scan she was quiet and I prayed silently for a heartbeat to be heard. I still very vividly remember her saying “ok Sarah so we can see two sacs here”. Identical twins were growing inside. I think my response was “jesus” and my mam started to cry. At that time there were two very faint heartbeats and both embryos were of equal size. While that was good news and music to my ears my doctor explained that identical twin pregnancies have a 1 in 2 rate of miscarriage before 12 weeks. So I was immediate described as a high risk pregnancy on my chart which is a term I’ve become all too familiar with since.
My doctor booked me in for another scan at 10 weeks and told me she would like to see the embryos grow equally and have separate placentas or a line in the ultrasound showing they were growing apart. I went outside of the private clinic and sat on a bench with Mam in silent shock for a good 5 minutes. To be honest I wasn’t worried and was absolutely delighted with the news of twins. I then called Aidan with the news and his response was “deadly”. In his head we were almost halfway to the 5 kid mark.
Unfortunately the following day and every day for the next week I noticed small amounts of blood. It was brown and when I called the clinic they told me brown is fine it’s old blood and there was nothing to worry about. Still it didn’t sit well with me and everyday and every time I went to the toilet I prayed it would be gone but everyday it was there. I talked to my little twins telling them to share and behave and grow and live. One night as myself and Aidan were on the couch in my mams I started to get bad cramps, the kind I used to get in school the first day of my period every month but stronger. My parents had already gone to bed so it was just Aidan and myself there. I tried to ignore it at first pretending it was the chipper I’d just wolfed had not settled in my stomach. But my heart and head knew something wasn’t right. I can’t explain how I knew but as I walked to the toilet I thought about how I would break the news to Aidan. As I checked my underwear the bleeding was significant and my heart dropped down to my toes. I was devastated. I took a few minutes to myself and said goodbye to my twins and told them I loved them. I went back to Aidan and broke down as I told him I was bleeding mad the babies were gone.
Ever the optimist Aidan wouldnt hear of it and reassured me as best he could. I allowed myself a glimmer of hope that maybe one baby would survive. I prayed and prayed as hard as I could as I sat in the tiny Rotunda emergency waiting room for at least one baby to make it.
The doctors asked me all the usual questions and then, as I was still so early at only 8 weeks, performed an internal scan (much like a smear). He scanned me and said “look there’s the line that separates the two babies” and my heart lept in hope, “that’s good isn’t it?” I begged him. “Well unfortunately we can hear no heartbeats”. And that was it. He confirmed what I already knew, I had miscarried my first two babies.
It might be unrealistic or unfair for me to consider them babies at this very early stage, I know people who have lost twins or babies much later and can only imagine how much more devastating this would be. But for us this was just so heartbreaking. This pregnancy had felt so special and so real and even though the risk was high I really felt like I would have these twins. I imagined they would be two boys as bold as brass with Aidans divilmemt and both our love for football. I imagined them being such little terrors but brilliantly funny too. I imagined myself never being organised enough to dress the, identically and getting in trouble with friends for not doing so. I imagined a whole life with these sacs who weren’t at all sacs to me but my future and in a shocking hour they were just gone.
Well I say an hour but unfortunately the miscarriage was a much longer physically draining battle. We went home that night and went to bed crying and hugging. We didn’t tell anyone til well into the next day. I was dreading upsetting those closest to us who knew. I had to go back to the hospital the next day to meet my own doctor so she could scan me again to see if I had miscarried fully or partially. Again unfortunately and commonly, I needed medication to help everything to pass. I will never forget walking into the Rotunda surrounded by heavily pregnant women and my eyes as if I’ve been punched in each one. Il also never ever forget the kindness by one nurse who instantly realised what I was going through and brought us to a separate little room from the normal waiting room with a couch and tissues so I could ball my eyes out for what felt like the millionth time. My doctor was so sensitive and gave us so much time.
We went home and ordered over 60 euro worth of firehouse pizza and ate about a tenth of it. We didn’t see anyone that day or night just stayed in each others grief and tried to be strong for each other. No that’s a lie Aidan was strong for me but I was in bits.
Day by day it got a tiny bit easier and the support I got from family and friends was indescribable. I decided one of the evenings that first week, fuck it I want a dog. Aidan needed zero convincing and we drove out to Longford and bought the most gorgeous flat haired black retriever puppy. I was still bleeding heavily and the puppy’s parents kept coming at me sniffing and it was one of the most awkward and kind of funny moments of my life. We got out of there quickly and I poured all my emotions into my new little Gem (short for Gemini which is star sign for twins). This gorgeous pup helped me through some tough days.
We randomly got tickets to a Dublin match in Croke park four days after getting Gem. I literally hadn’t left my house and was still physically miscarrying so it was a big decision to go. We left Gem with my parents and headed off. When we returned I felt really good for having gotten out mad been normal again. I noticed Gem had gotten sick twice. Mam said she thought he was unusually quiet for a pup but had put it down to nerves of a new place. I wasn’t happy so we decided to bring him to the vet.
On a Sunday the only vet we could get was in Raheny and on route he started wheezing uncontrollably. The vet sent him to UCD Animal hospital where he had an X-ray. He had waged something sharp and it was lodged in his stomach. Only thing for it was an operation. Because he was only 9 weeks old he wasn’t supposed to get any of the medication that he needed for the operation. We left him there for surgery and went home. Nothing else we could do. We had short lived good news as veterinary hospital rang and told us everything went well and he could recover in our local vets. We transferred him ourselves and although he was groggy seemed to be fine. Later that day our vet called us with the news that our poor Gem had suffered a massive heart attack and died.
All of the grief from that week hit me in the stomach like I’d just been run over by a car. I broke down with my mam and couldn’t catch my breath. I struggled to get the words out “ I’m obviously use not meant to be a parent”. She hugged me and told me to calm as this too shall pass. And it did.

But again, unfortunately not quickly. I retuned to the Rotunda again two weeks on to see if everything had passed, it had not. My doctor kindly had tears in her eyes when I told her about Gem. Another bout of medication, I can’t remember the name but it made me feel like shit. I went home and yet again prayed that this physical side of miscarriage would pass so that I could start to move on from this.
A couple of days on and I visited my cousin. I went to the toilet and passed a large something. I shouldn’t have looked but I did and I will never forget it. I quickly left, not telling anyone what I’d just seen, and cried all the way home.

I was sure this was finally it, some closure, it must be over now. Unfortunately not. Another Rotunda appointment, my anger at the pregnant women who were smoking outside growing with every visit. And this scan showed some placenta still there which needed to go. My doctor suggested we tried long enough and it was time for a D&C. A quick enough procedure that would remove everything else. It was booked in and we returned together for the final leg of this emotional journey. While I was waiting to be brought to theatre the woman in the bed beside me was wheeled back in, after just undergoing the same proceedure I assumed. Her partner had a small Arnotts bag with a small box that looked like a gift of jewellery that he went out and got her while she was undergoing the procedure. I teared up at his kindness and thoughtfulness in this heartbreaking moment. The I was taken down for mine.  When I awoke to see my darling husband he said “ I went and got you a little something “ and I wondered had the nurses hinted at both men that a gift can really help in this sad situation. He smiled as he pulled from behind his back...a can of coke. I laughed and felt a little bit of the old happy me come back.

 

Now I am so so fortunate to be able to look at my amazing little girl Cara and understand that had the miscarriage not happened we wouldn’t have her in our lives.  My mam was right, this too shall pass and it did.  


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