‘I was suffocating, but smiling ...each pregnancy brought fear’

The excitement builds. After what felt like an eternity, I saw the word ‘Pregnant’ on the digital pregnancy test, and in those early days, and sometimes in those later days in the final trimester, I never expected to get bad news.

I had two children and conceiving them had been straightforward, but I was never complacent.

When many people think of pregnancy, they think of joy, anticipation, excitement, and giddy preparations.

But, for one in five women in Ireland who have experienced pregnancy loss or stillbirth, many of these feelings are overshadowed by anxiety, crippling fear, and a silence that is deafening.

I am one in five and, sadly, many women who read this will also be one in five.

I have been pregnant six times - yet I only have three children to get dressed every morning.

That is a sentence I never thought I would say or have to write.

It’s like the unspeakable tragedies that hit some families, you never think it will happen to you.

However, with pregnancy or infant loss, there will often be many women within the same circles who have suffered too, but we just don’t talk about it.

Even recently, I spoke to an 85-year-old woman, and she could still recall the due date of a baby she had lost more than 40 years ago.

These little angels don’t leave us, and for some, there is comfort in a visiting robin, or a little feather, or a rainbow, but it’s the potential future being lost which is hardest to accept.

For most, women don’t enter into pregnancy, particularly for the first time, fearing a loss, but it’s always a possibility.

The first time it happened, I didn’t even realise initially.

I hadn’t known I was pregnant; we had been trying, but for a while, and it was in the midst of the covid pandemic, so my cycles had become unpredictable.

I had been really busy and had a lot of things on at once. When I stopped to take a breath, I realised that what I thought was my period, was not - I had been bleeding for 24 days.

I felt numb and guilty, as if blaming myself for the loss, but I knew deep down that these things just happen.

The next time, it felt like I didn’t deserve joy, that it was never going to happen for us and I was terrified of a really bad outcome, as we had some scares in relation to my own health.

Each loss was very different, but the feelings were always there.

As soon as the test was positive, I tried to stop myself imagining a future with this child - daydreaming about what they would look like, calculating the due date, and thinking about how old their older siblings would be - on three occasions these narratives were imaginary and never materialised.

It was self-preservation, I was trying to protect myself from heartbreak, but it’s not possible.

I was suffocating, but smiling. I was working, but spiralling. I was together, but in a million pieces.

Every pregnancy test brought with it fear, anxiety, and a fear of getting excited.

It was like I couldn’t allow myself to imagine the future or buy anything, just in case I lost the baby, and then I’d just be left with these bitter reminders.

I’m not sure if not telling people about a pregnancy until after the 12-week scan is an Irish trait, but I don’t agree with it.

We don’t tell people in case there is a miscarriage, but if there is, that’s when we need our tribe, that’s when we need support.

Every woman who has experienced a miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death knows the feelings all too well.

One thing that did help me to protect myself at my most vulnerable times, was to unfollow baby accounts on social media or mute accounts of people who were also pregnant.

It’s not that I wasn’t happy for them, but it’s hard when you’re trying to take your mind off your own loss and then you are confronted with these images from someone else’s life, and because they are often on social media, you might not expect them.

It’s like a punch to the gut - seeing that birth announcement on the day you should have been having yours, but instead, your reality looks very different.

Then there are the milestones you never forget - you feel a little bit emptier on the due date, when you meet babies who would have been the same age, or when you hear the name of what you were going to call them.

Baby loss is not something we talk about a lot, but I find that when we do, the amount of people impacted is far greater than you would imagine.

Say their names, send a text on the due date, let these women know that you know that these babies are carried in their hearts and that they are part of the family.

It is a harsh and unrelenting heartbreak, and there are reminders everywhere - baby ads on your phone, pregnant women on the TV show you watch, bumps under clothes as you get the shopping - and while you can’t hide away and avoid these reminders, you can mind yourself.

Talk to your partner, avail of counselling from the hospital, write or speak your feelings into voice notes on your phone, and remember those babies in the ways that feel right to you.

All of these babies, no matter how far along in the pregnancy, were loved, wanted, and treasured and they always will be.

• Baby Loss Awareness Week begins on October 9 and continues until October 15.
• For information around pregnancy and infant loss, and support services, see https://pregnancyandinfantloss.ie/
• *The writer of this piece has decided to write anonymously to protect her family’s privacy.