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This baby was real to me

I wasn’t going to post this – I wrote it last night in a flood of tears whilst failing to keep up a positive attitude.


Turns out that I was right to have a good cry.


This morning I went to the GP, who had already booked me into the the early pregnancy clinic at the hospital.  I drove over there, walked past the day unit where I’d spent days when I was pregnant with Littler, and did the usual urine test and filled out a mountain of forms.  I then waited alongside a whole bunch of happily pregnant ladies discussing baby names and flicking through their pregnancy diaries to have a scan.


I’d forgotten that at NHS scans they don’t show you anything or tell you anything.  But much later, after a very good examination of everything down there I was sent back to the waiting room.  I opted for a howl in the loos and 10 minutes trying to get myself back under control.


Another 15 minutes later I was called back to the clinic.  From the pile of paper on the desk it was obvious what the answer was.


There is no longer any viable baby in my womb.


Unfortunately I still have enough hormones to register as pregnant for pregnancy tests so I’ve had a blood test and will be having another on Saturday to check that the levels are falling and for them to investigate a bit further if they aren’t.


So there we have it.
Thanks so much for all your lovely positive words – I can’t really express what they have meant to me but you are all so kind, caring and its made a real difference to me knowing that there were people who were wishing me well throughout this.  I felt a lot less alone than I wouldn’t have done if you lot weren’t with me.  I’m off shortly to see Bigger’s first open ballet class where I will try very hard not to embarrass her by crying and then I’m off to my best friend’s birthday party where I shall try very hard not to drink too much and get emotional.


I’m not sure I’d suggest reading the piece below if you are feeling at all emotional – I needed to write it and wanted to publish it but you don’t have to read it.




Yes I know that this goes back to the whole head / heart thing that I blogged about yesterday, but you can’t discount the heart


This baby is real to me.


This baby was much wanted.

This baby was tried for with everything we had – charting, acupuncture, ovulation tests.  We wanted this baby so much we made every effort to conceive.


We have known about this baby for nearly a month.
Long enough to start to dream, to imagine, to build the possibilities of a life.


Long enough to start to discuss the logistics of maternity leave and my lack of maternity pay.


Long enough to think about cars and bedrooms.


Long enough to dream of names and family dynamics.


Because whilst technically a baby at 8 weeks is little more than a rapidly beating heart in a minute body, to us, that baby is so much more.
And that baby is real to us and held as a little glimmering sparkle of hope in the depths of our souls.


On Saturday night, Mr asked me if we should, if we could, share our news with his mother.  He’d been out and looked at cars suitable for a family of 5 whilst I had collapsed for an afternoon snooze.  I hadn’t realised until then that this was something that he wanted and was dreaming about like I was.


And I had to say that my symptoms had changed, that I felt a bit crampy and that we should probably hold off.


Perhaps if I hadn’t even thought that, perhaps if I had stayed positive, perhaps if we had made this baby real by sharing we wouldn’t be here right now.


Who knows.


But what I have realised, from the depths of my selfish misery, is that this baby isn’t just real to me.
Yes my husband may be better at putting emotions in a box and not wallowing, but for a few hours he also had plans and dreams and I must not forget that.


Why when things don’t go right is the hardest thing to show that vulnerability and to risk being hurt further?  Why is pulling on your thick skin and defences the only thing that seems possible?


Simply, I guess, why?

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54 comments to This baby was real to me

  • Kat

    I’m so sorry Hannah x

  • Oh I’m so sorry to hear your news, I know exactly how you feel as this happened to me twice and I still think about those babies now. Both of the babies that I lost were due at times within a week of friends’ babies who successfully made the journey. Now whenever I see their babies I allow my mind to drift for a moment to what could have been for us. Luckily for us we do now have Beanie Boy and I’m sooo grateful to have him as he is perfect but even so, my heart still remembers and I know yours will too.

    Sending you big hugs and a strong shoulder to cry on xxx

  • Am so sorry to read this. Thoughts are with you. X

  • I’m so, so sorry to read this. S xxx

  • I’m so sorry hun, for your loss. Not only the loss of your wee one, but the loss of dream of the family that would have expanded to welcome this wee soul. You did nothing wrong, you mustn’t blame yourself. You did everything you could to welcome this baby into your life, to welcome this spark of hope. I am so sorry that you have lost him or her and send you all my love and prayers – to you and to Mr M. xxx

  • Lorraine berry

    Big hugs – of course your baby was real, existed. I cannot imagine how you must be feeling and can only say how sorry I am to read your sad news of your loss this pm. I hope that you will recover healthily and quickly, and go on to have a positive happy result in the near future. Thinking of you xx

  • I’m so sorry hon xxxx

  • Im very sorry for you and your husband. I had a early miscarriage last year and was the same as you, dreaming and thinking about the future, making plans, even though you know it is really too early. I can appreciate your pain and disappointment. sorry.

  • becky (babybudgeting)

    I am so so sorry for your loss Hannah. Bless you and your family. Do let yourselves greive, much love to you all .

  • Eve

    So so sorry to hear your news. Beautifully written post, thanks for sharing with us. Take care xx

  • Alex

    Oh Hannah, I’m so sorry for you. Words fail me 🙁

  • I wanted to say sorry for your loss even though I don’t think those words will help you at all. Also I wanted to say that I think you are great to acknowledge the reality of your baby. It was not just real to you, this baby was a living thing and will always be part of your life. My stepdaughter has just gone through a miscarriage of an early pregnancy and I am so pleased you are getting support as that must be so vital. There is and your probably know this a Miscarriage Association which can perhaps help in some way. I think there is a forum on there for mums going through this particular journey. My stepdaughter’s blog is at http;//itshowlifeis.blogspot.com in case it helps to hook up with someone with similar experience.
    I think you are fantastic for writing all this down. It will help you I am sure and also help others who read.

  • Dia

    I’m so sorry. Thinking of you. X

  • I’m so sorry Hannah. I’m thinking of you and your husband and sending as much love your way as I can. xxxxx

  • Hannah – I am terribly sorry for your loss. I am thinking of you in the days an weeks to come

  • Working London mummy

    I am so sorry. I have been through this and of course there is a lifetime of love poured into the baby as soon as you know about it. This is heartbreaking. Take care of yourself honey xxx

  • Boat-Wife

    So sorry Hannah. The baby is so real as you began to dream and plan for it a long time ago. My best friend lost a baby recently. She didn’t want to talk. I sent her friendship presents every day for a week. You will get through it with a little help from your friends.

  • nikhknight

    I am so sorry to hear this. Miscarriage is the loneliest kind of grief – no-one else knew this little person or the potential life you had started to map out for them. But you did.

    Please know that it was nothing you did or said or even thought. It was a terrible, unfair stroke of bad luck and nothing more.

    Be gentle with yourself.

  • Juliet

    Logged on to your blog today having not had a nose for weeks … I am so so sad. I understand a little of how you will be feeling. The hardest part, there is nothing to cradle, to kiss, to hold to say goodbye to, the hormones rage … Grief is lonely and so very different for everyone, it does all feel so hopeless. I didn’t realise, but I needed to say goodbye properly to my unborn baby who was wrapped in all our hopes and dreams for our future and only then was I able to move on … the healer I spoke to and still do is based in Sydney and is a very special lady. Know that I love you so very much. That you are one amazing woman for communicating all this and for being beautiful you. Just one step at a time. XXX

  • Oh my love…the baby felt real because it was real .. Don’t let anyone deny you that fact. What a tough time, I feel so dreadfully sad for you all. I know that pregnancy is a long and bumpy road for you, and this is the cruelest thing to happen. Gentle squeezy hugs xx

  • pamela

    awww bless you, im sooo sorry for your loss 🙁 it happened to me last year too 🙁
    of course your baby was real just too special for earth.
    your now a mummy to an angel, take care of yourself, sending my love to you all x x x

  • Oh Hannah. This all feels far to close to home for me. Last month when it happened to me, I came here to your blog to read your comforting words because you were so positive (at least on the outside) when it happened earlier this year and although I know you’re trying to stay positive this time, I can see it’s hard.

    I got to the same point, we had had the conversation about whether to start sharing the news. In all honesty, I had told a couple of people (and now I feel bad that one of them wasn’t my own mum) and then when it happened, I felt awkward.

    Anyway, I know it doesn’t offer much comfort but last week I cam across this piece on the BBC news which shows that there is hope – perhaps more than you thought.


    Stay strong lovely.

  • I’m so very sorry for your loss. Thinking of you. xxx

  • ChocOrangeCityMum

    I am so sorry for your loss. I had a miscarriage on Christmas Day and I was also charting and we really wanted another baby so it was heartbreaking to find out, we too had started thinking of the life we would have with it and even gave it a name. I remember how you are feeling and its bloody hard and horrid. You are right, it was a real baby and no one can ever say any different.

    I wrote a post after it happened to me and I don’t know if this one will help but I wanted to add it (and please don’t think it is a shameless blog pimp because thats really not my intention!)

    Sending my thoughts to you and your family.

  • Morgan

    Heartbreaking. God bless you guys. x

  • Knackered Mother

    Oh my. So sorry. Thoughts and hugs xxx

  • Oh Hannah I am so, so sorry. xxxxxx

  • Aly

    I can’t imagine what your going through but neither the less I have tears running down my face and my heart goes out to you all xxx

  • I know there are no words I can say that haven’t been said before and no words to take the pain away. I’m just so sorry xxx


  • I cant find the words. Sorry 🙁 Big hugs, wine and chocolate cake, they wont make it better but then nothing will. Xxxx

  • I’m so very sorry Hannah xx

  • FrauHopkins

    I’m so sorry for your loss. I have been through this and your words summed up exactly how I felt. Thinking of you xxx

  • So sorry to read your news Hannah xxx

  • Oh I am so very sorry for your terrible loss….

  • Lucy@who_loves_me

    I’m so so sorry. Such an awful thing to go through, i’m so sorry. Xx

  • I am so sorry, give yourselves both time. Thinking of you both xxxx

  • Of course your baby was real to you, it’s almost as if you gain a dream for every cell division.

    I’m so sorry to read your news xxxx

  • So very sorry to hear this. I do know what you are going through it happened to me and my body like yours merrily gambolled along for another couple of weeks before it said oh no of courrse you are not pregnant. At that time I had not had my two wonderful boys. I still know when my baby would have been born and I have an ache where she should be. It takes time. be kind to yourself adn take greatest care.

  • So sorry for this outcome Hannah. I was here last April and recall how sad it is losing your much wanted babe.

    I will be praying for you and hubbie.

    Mich x

  • Lots of hugs. I had one of these moments too. The other thing is that a miscarriage has all the same hormone moods that a pregnancy does -so you are also said and there is also the hormonal medical part.

  • I am so, so sorry. The loss of the future you start to plan is the hardest part of grieving, I think. All that hope and all those dreams make the future so you can nearly taste it, nearly touch it. And when it’s taken away, it rocks your foundations.
    Much love to you and to your husband, be kind to yourselves xx

  • Merry

    Oh Hannah I am so very sorry. I read that you were in the middle of thinking I no longer was (there was no baby on my first scan,bloods weren’t doubling) and so I just couldn’t come and be here for you. But I was so pleased, when things seemed to improve this end, to find us both doing this together.

    I am just so sorry. I went blank when I thought it was over; I inevitably am in a different place to you but I just wanted it over quickly. For me, better now than at birth. But yes, they are just so real from the start and IT. IS. NOT. FAIR.


  • Read this with tears in my eyes, trying not to cry as I’m in work!

    I really feel for you and your words about this baby being real reflected everything inside my own head – I had a miscarriage 6 months ago and it’s (what was supposed to be) my due date on Wednesday. For me, showing that I was upset meant accepting what had happened, and I just couldn’t do it.
    That’s the big question isn’t it, why did this happen?
    I don’t think we’ll ever be able to answer it, all we can do is make sure we let ourselves grieve for a baby lost, because that baby IS real and no doctor or text books can tell us any different.
    Sarah x

  • Kirsty

    Big hugs. Know the feeling only too well. It’s now nearly 4 months since I lost my baby-which only me and my partner know about-and it still hurts. I have two beautiful boys, but since all my miscarriage pregnancy symptoms have been different to the boys, I always feel that the lost babies are my girls.
    One of our friends has just had a baby, and I can’t quite bring myself to visit yet-it will be first baby I’ll have held since.

  • So sorry Hannah. Sending love and a big hug to you and your family…and lots of hope and good wishes for the future. x

  • Roxanne

    My heart goes out you. I’m so sorry for your loss.

  • Hello, just saw this oldish post and wanted to say, this is exactly what happened to me, with the scan, hormone levels and blood tests. My baby was real to me, and it was before I even tested positive. As soon as I had an inkling I worked out my due date and let my imagination run away with me. I have had 2 positive tests followed by a period since then, (that was before last Christmas), but that time was the hardest. I am 41 (42 in December) and this is the 1st time I have had any difficulty.
    Anyway, hugs to you, I know exactly how you feel.

  • Stepmom in Training

    I’m so sorry to read this. I have been struggling from a miscarriage from a few months ago and went looking for blogs that might help me. My due date was Feb 14th and I had to have a D&C at 8 weeks also. This would have been my first child, I have 2 stepkids now. I wanted to tell you that you aren’t alone. I feel the same way about how the baby was real to me…because we did IVF we already knew the sex as well which somehow added an additional blow. It’s been hard to just muster on like nothing happened because not everyone, especially my stepkids, know about any of this. My husband is much better putting on the happy face and sometimes I still just want to cry. You aren’t alone. Sending you virtual hugs.

    My story:

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