“ Animals are such agreeable friends – they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms GEORGE ELIOT 56 | <strong>April</strong> <strong>2021</strong> | happiful.com Photography | Chewy
true story Breaking the silence over miscarriage When Bex lost her baby during lockdown, she couldn’t be physically comforted in her grief by her friends and family. So, she used social media to help and encourage women like her to openly discuss a subject that has been taboo for far too long Writing | Bex Gunn Instead of writing this article, I should be on Instagram posting a grainy, black and white ultrasound image showing a tiny human, along with some witty banter telling the world I’m expecting a baby. But when I went for my 12-week scan, instead of seeing a little baby full of excited, flashing heartbeats, I saw a shape; a still, white shape. And then I heard the words that have engraved themselves into my brain: “Have you had any pain or bleeding, Rebecca?” I was told that there was no heartbeat and that my baby had died two weeks earlier. The aftermath — the messy impersonal, coronavirus-led aftermath — was horrendous. There were masks and screens and staring eyes and gloves — and no Rob. My husband had not been allowed to accompany me to the scan; coronavirus cruelly robbing us of contact when we both needed it the most. And then there were the decisions. Should I let nature take its course, go home, and wait to start bleeding? Or should I take the pills that bring on the miscarriage? Or do I opt for a surgical removal? The questions and language barriers between the medics and me were only made harder by masks. And then, after the longest time, Rob arrived, and the nurses made an allowance as these were ‘exceptional circumstances’. They let him in, and finally there was comfort in touch, and relief, more pain, but shared pain, the explanations, and the begging of the nurses: “Are you sure? Could you have made a mistake? Maybe it’s just too early for a heartbeat?” What followed was nearly a week of drugs, scans, questions, and procedures. There was so much confusion between doctors about what the ‘safe thing’ was to do during the pandemic, but eventually, five days later, after the drugs I was given to bring on the process had failed three times, I had emergency surgery to remove an incomplete miscarriage. The hurt of losing a baby is inescapable and unbearable. I’ve never known anything like it. It scorches you from the heart outwards and then, when the initial burn fades, it’s replaced by a deep, dark, ache. I did everything right. I gave up drinking well before we conceived, I took folic acid, I didn’t eat rare meat, soft cheese, tuna, or egg yolks. I exercised, but not too strenuously. I selfisolated to be safe from the virus, and I was 100% diligent… and it still happened. It wasn’t my fault. Baby loss is never anyone’s fault. Although ‘missed miscarriages’ are not as common, one in four pregnancies end in miscarriage, and it’s out of anyone’s control. >>> happiful.com | <strong>April</strong> <strong>2021</strong> | 57