Tuesday, 6 December 2011

You never got to bloom.

I’ve started to write this blog what seems like a million times. There just aren’t really any adequate words to start explaining something like this. So I guess this will have to do and I’m just going to be brutally blunt. 

I haven’t really been around much since the start of the year and if I’m being honest when I have been, I’ve been putting on a bit of a face. To put it simply I’ve had the worst year of my life. Earlier this year I met someone. At last right? I honestly thought I had found someone perfect, amazing and after all the shit I’ve been through this was now it. My missing piece. Happy ending. 
Suddenly out of nowhere they broke up with me. He had a million reasons such as he was embarrassed by being out with myself and my son in public, he hated when people saw him with Dyllan. He also didn’t want any distractions from his dream that was on the cards which I supported him with everything I had for. I was so in love with him I stood by his decision and just wanted him to be happy no matter how heart broken and hurt I was. I was in complete shock and couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Time to dust myself off though and move on. But one morning I was going about my normal routine and BAM! Something suddenly felt strange. Something wasn’t right. And it was a feeling that was very familiar. Oh yes. I was pregnant. Thanks medication. Let’s skip the few panic attacks and freak outs I had for a few days. When it had finally sunk in that I really was pregnant and this wasn’t some late night cheese munching induced crazy ass dream, it was time for some decision making and soul searching. 

I wanted to move away. Far away and not tell anyone here that I was pregnant. I didn’t want to tell him because he had made it clear that having a child would ruin his life. He actually said that to me in those words in a conversation once. I was still so in love with him that I couldn’t tell him. I didn’t want to ruin his dreams. I was convinced to stay though and after a tough conversation with a very dear friend I decided to tell him. I had a cancer scare just before I found out I was pregnant and because we were still on speaking terms I told him about it. I thought that was hard, but compared to this bombshell from the stork it was a breeze. I called him over and sat him down.

I was so scared. I was holding back tears and shaking so much I was almost laughing. It was very strange place to be emotionally. To this day I don’t know how I managed to get those words out of my mouth but I did. After the initial ‘But you’re on the pill’ conversation I told him that no matter what we decide to do having an abortion wouldn’t be an option. There was no way I could do that. He sat there, thought, and the first words to come out of his mouth? “Well, I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and my life’s fucked anyway.” Well, that’s a nice thing to say I thought. He then told me how we were going to make a go of it. Everything will be fine and we’ll make it work. He even went on to say how his Dad will be so happy he’s a Grandad and said excitedly himself “Wow, I’m gonna be a Dad!” I wasn’t really taking all of this in at the time. I was convinced the second I told him he would turn and walk out the door never to be seen again. He hugged me and told me we would be fine but I had to tell him that I didn’t want him to get back together with me just because I was pregnant. He said that he had been doing a lot of thinking and actually wanted to get back with me anyway. I wanted to believe him, but at that point in time I didn’t really care. The millstone around my neck had gone. 

In the next few weeks we started to plan things out. We would move away together and start a new life so he could carry on with his dream, I got the ball rolling and put in for a housing transfer and we were aiming to be out by now. I couldn’t wait. I even looked into nursing jobs in the area. Life was pretty damn perfect. He started to say how he was getting excited as the weeks passed, although he still didn’t like me talking about it all with him. We had names but I knew they were a girl. The same feeling I had about Dyllan being a boy. I’d tell him about baby’s progress from those tracker things and say what exactly they were developing in that particular week, He’d always stop me though and say he didn’t want to talk about it. He still looked after me though. I was so frightened I would have another pregnancy like I had with Dyllan which was horrific and I had worse than no support what so ever. He would constantly tell me to rest and banned me from coffee until midwife said that one or two cups a day was ok. Once he even hugged me putting his hand on my tiny belly which was possibly the best feeling I’ve ever felt. 
Everything was perfect until one night I woke up to be sick and when I got back into bed I had the most intense pains. They took my breath away. During the day before I had noticed I had a tiny spot of blood, but thought nothing of it as I bled quite badly with Dyllan. I put two and two together and as the pain got worse I knew I was miscarrying. He held me and kept me talking to take my mind of the pain, asking if he should call an ambulance or something but I told him that if I really am miscarrying it’s too late and nothing could be done. He assured me everything will be ok, and if it does happen then we’ll still have each other and we can try again one day. Morning finally came and he went to work while I went to the doctors and then the hospital and after what seemed like a life time it was confirmed that I had lost the baby. They decided against doing a D&C and to let things happen naturally.

After meeting him at the hospital I was completely numb. We came home and I cried and cried, which he then had a go at me for. The only thing that was keeping me going was Dyllan because deep down, I knew he was relieved that I had lost the baby. I can’t even begin to describe how devastated I was and how much I hated myself for losing the baby. Whenever I wanted to talk about it, or cry about it, he’d say he didn’t want to and when I got upset he would have a go at me saying that he had lost a baby too. And then, a matter of days after losing his child, he dumped me. 

I was completely and utterly broken. I so desperately wanted my baby back and all I had left was all lies. From the second I woke up to when I fell asleep all I could think about was the baby and how it must be my fault. For a few weeks after I was bleeding on and off and had to have a couple of scans, every time wishing and praying that there had been some mistake and that I was actually still pregnant. And then there was the heart break of the father seeing his chance and running as far as he can. He told me that he wanted to be even closer than best friends, and that he still loved me but he just can’t be with me right now. That soon went out the window when he moved away. He only spoke to me when I would contact him and as for my attack and being in hospital he only exchanged messages with me 3 times for the entire 3 weeks I was in there. One of which was having a go at me for being upset and scared about what was happening to me, saying “Well, there’s nothing I can do about it.” Silly me for thinking he wanted to know what was going on. Since then I think he’s tweeted me twice about something completely random and that’s about it. It was hard for Dyllan too. He was his best friend and for weeks and weeks every day he would look everywhere for him, under cushions, looking out the window, running around the house calling his name. He still does it occasionally and gets very upset when he sees a picture of him. Friends tell me that after what he did it was life’s way of getting him out of my life but no matter how hard I try to think like that I just can’t. That was still my baby. A complete innocent in all this. And they were loved so much. I still wish with everything I have to have them back, I still cry my eyes out daily and there isn’t an hour that goes past without me thinking of my little baby. I still rage with envy at pregnant women. Why did I have to lose mine? It’s not fair. I was so low that if it wasn’t for Dyllan I would have walked in front of a bus. The only thing keeping me alive was Dyllan. Even now there are times when I still feel like that. I also have the problem of the housing transfer as the ball was very much rolling and even though they are doing what they can it still might be too late and I may not have a choice but to still move away. So I lost my baby, my relationship and what’s looking like my home too. 

Shortly after I miscarried, a friend of mine who was also pregnant about a week ahead of me also miscarried. Life’s strange hey. But the other day she posted pictures of her scans. I’m so happy for her that she’s pregnant again, but it’s an odd feeling when I still have these pangs of jealousy. I doubt they’ll ever go. But in thinking about that this morning I suddenly remembered something I had done while I was still pregnant. 

Just before I miscarried I had a scan, I never told the father as I wanted to surprise him with it (and I had completely forgotten that I had a scan until the morning of it. Baby brain~). I squirreled the picture away and waited for the right time to surprise him. Unfortunately the miscarriage came first and after that I couldn’t bear to show him or even look at the picture. In the stress of everything I somehow forgot about it. I don’t know how and there’s a part of me that feels awful for forgetting it. I battled with a lot of feelings this morning over it. I decided that it was time to stop keeping this to myself and for some reason I want to share it with you. 

While I was in hospital someone told me that with Multiple Sclerosis they say it takes one massive stress to bring out your first big attack. Well ladies and gentlemen, this was mine. And my god does it feel cathartic to finally talk about it. 


  1. So sorry for you N dyllan. U deserve so much more :-( big hugs x

  2. I have just been diagnosed after having 3 attacks since this time last year. In the year before it all started I lost 2 babies and my mum got diagnosed with cancer. Your spot on about the stress making your first attack come.
    I am glad you had dyllan to help you get through it as I don't think I could have coped without my two children. Lots of love