I’m sitting thinking about what to write and I still can’t face writing about Ambers funeral so I’ve decided instead to go back to the beginning, I don’t want to forget the happier times, when I was excited about what was to come and all the joy and expectation. The days when I was happy.
I have an older daughter Coreigh, she is 25 now as I write this and I’ve always loved being a mum. She is my daughter and best friend all rolled into one. I always wanted more children, it just never happened and I had come to accept it likely never would. Until it did.
I had two miscarriages before Amber, the first in September 2019 at around 8 weeks, the second in January 2020 at around 10 weeks. The second time I ended up in hospital and had a horrific experience throughout with an unsympathetic nurse which left me feeling traumatised and I don’t think even now I have fully recovered from that day.
Because of my age (42 at the time of the 2nd loss) I was referred to an obstetrician to be assessed. I was told there was no reason to not have a healthy pregnancy and that if I were to try again they would do early pregnancy scans for reassurance, would put me immediately on progesterone at a positive test to help the baby ‘stick’ and I’d be under close observation thoughout, including scans every 3 weeks from 27 weeks. Because of my age a pregnancy would be classed as high risk but they were optimistic.
So we tried again, I took pregnancy vitamins, stopped drinking except for if I was on a period when I’d allow myself a couple, I knew my cycle back to front, used ovulation test strips, learned the signs that it was the ‘right time’ and on January 25th 2021, before my period was even due I did a pregnancy test and there she was, my baby girl! I checked again the day after to confirm. I started progesterone straight away, it gave me a feeling of being able to do something proactive, keep Amber (she didn’t have a name yet of course but I ‘knew’ she was a girl) safe. I spent the next few weeks in fear, every pain, every twinge, every symptom that either appeared or disappeared I was terrified. I was bloated, short of breath, exhausted (so so exhausted!) I went for a scan in the EPU (early pregnancy unit) at just 7 weeks and 2 days and she looked like a shrimp but there was a beautiful strong heartbeat on screen and she was measuring to the exact due date I’d already calculated. I remember crying I was so relieved and that was a happy happy day.
That night I had a bleed, very light but it filled me with panic and the hospital wouldn’t rescan until the following week as it was too soon after my initial scan on the Thursday. I spent the weekend in tears waiting to see if I would lose another baby but the bleeding stopped and the following Wednesday I had another scan and there she was, looking more like a kidney bean now with her tiny heart pulsing madly. She’d grown, she was there and everything was possible again, I began to dream…
I had my first midwife appointment, I researched for hours looking for my dream pram, it had to fold small enough to fit in my car but I needed an all terrain for dog walks, a big shopping basket, a carrycot, not too heavy as I have chronic back pain, I wanted the pram to be perfect. I spend a lot of time outside (usually) and so it had to work for my lifestyle of tramping through forests or on hill and river paths. It took my mind off worrying about those early pregnancy days and what could go wrong.
On the 25th March I went for my dating scan, this was the day I’d been waiting for. That magical day that all pregnant mums wait for, the day that your baby LOOKS like a baby, the day you see a clear heartbeat and the fears of loss start to fade away, the likelihood of a miscarriage drops. The ‘safe’ scan, the one where you can relax, start to shop, start to really plan the future, the nursery, your new life.
It was exciting going finally to a different department other than the EPU. Finally I was going to the ultrasound clinic, exiting but nerve wracking too. The sonographer went straight to her heart first and seeing it beating, strong and steady I remember I let out a huge breath I hadn’t even realised I’d been holding in and I just cried. She was beautiful and alive and my predicted due date was the 5th October, the date I’d already calculated was exact, I was 12 weeks +2 days. My baby was growing perfectly.
We immediately went and bought her first babygrow, soft and tiny and perfect for a winter birth. Now I could tell everyone I was expecting, now I could start shopping!
Amber, The Trisomy 18 journey of 'my little fox' 