It was the 9th of June when I entered these words into my diary:
“I believe I am losing my child and feel so helpless”
All I remember from this day was a pile of bloodstained tissues, Chris’ worried eyes and me standing by the sideroad, glaring helplessly into the nothing after we had just been advised to go to another hospital where they could actually help us.
When I had some bleeding a few weeks earlier I already went into a state of panic which sadly turned into despair after speaking to an impatient lady on the other side of the line.
“You can’t just call here, […]if you have any bleeding you have to go to A&E!”
My first few weeks of pregnancy and encounters with health professionals hadn’t been the most empowering and I couldn’t help but feel very left alone in the unknown.
How could I possibly end up in this situation again? I asked myself as I was hastily trying to put my shoes on, shaking in fear.
Another Uber ride later we finally arrived at the right hospital, where I was seen straight away.
Despite the fact that I had already seen a midwife 2 weeks earlier I was told that they needed to do a pregnancy test just to make sure I was indeed pregnant. Blood was taken and a short conversation revealed that we should probably stay celibate for the rest of the pregnancy and that because it was Sunday no further examinations could take place to confirm if everything was alright or not.
The waiting game continued and all we could do was breathe and pray.
As blood kept rushing out of me I tried to remind myself that this was out of my hands and all I could do was trust. Just as I had kneeled on the floor a few months earlier and prayed for this child to happen, there I was kneeling and trusting that if this was meant to be, it will be.
A flood of warmth overcame me as I suddenly sensed an overwhelming feeling of thankfulness. I was thankful for my wonderful husband who had not only been holding my hand, wrapping me in his warmth but also made me understand that if this was the “…for worse” part, we had this.
…and in that vulnerable moment of uncertainty this was all I needed to know.
Chris you are magnificent.