Time flies when… your waiting TEN weeks for post mortem results. I’ve now been back at work for a few weeks – albeit a phased return, so a couple of days then first week, with this week meaning to be my first full four day week. However, Monday was results day, so I decided to book a days holiday to “relax” before heading to the hospital, which basically consisted of going to the gym and having a bath!
Due to my neurotic nature I left far too earlier and arrived with over an hour to spare. Stupidly I sat in the hospital Costa, only to see at least five couples walking past happily with their bright yellow maternity folders, smiling as they come out of their scans. Who can blame them, it is a wonderful feeling – that I am lucky to know. But it still stings, I should be coming to a 22 week scan.. not to hear theories around why I have lost another baby this year.
My consultant is excellent, she’s very caring and very thorough. But unfortunately, as predicted, she can only give me theories as to why we lost Isabella in the exact same circumstances that we lost Max (although it was four weeks early in the pregnancy). The blood cultures from when I was first admitted showed nothing, neither did the vaginal swabs, or any of the bloods taken after she was born. The scans were normal. The post mortem was normal. I try to explain to people it would be so so much easier if we could just be told, you have this problem with your DNA, or your blood doesn’t clot, something that would explain it, and 100% rule out any future pregnancies – as if we knew they would all end up the same way, we would never risk it. Now I will always think, what if we tried just one more time…
Her main theory is that due to me heart shaped uterus, the placenta both times attached in an awkward place, and as it grew separated from the side of my womb – which caused the heavy bleeding. As such, she wants to do a camera test to look inside, and see if I might need keyhole surgery to repair things. Again, I am left thinking PLEASE find that it was something to do with the structure of my uterus, as that would at least give us answers. But equally, it leaves me feeling, was my womb damaged during Dylan’s traumatic birth (he was “back to back”, had to be pulled out with forceps, but then the umbilical cord snapped and my placenta had to be manually removed) OR was he a miracle? For some reason, did my placenta with Dylan form in a place that my odd shaped uterus could handle? I am going with the latter… Dylan is my little miracle, he is amazing and I love him more than I ever thought it was possible to love another living thing.
Now it’s another waiting game, waiting for the all-important camera test, then perhaps waiting for surgery and waiting to hear if we are just going to be told that they don’t know why we have lost two beautiful souls.
Finally, I wore my baby loss awareness T-Shirt with pride as I went to hear the results, my love for Isabella and Max will always be #everlasting.
Muddled Mummy 