Before I get into today’s post, I just want to take a moment to acknowledge the fact that today is exactly one year since we lost our boys. I never thought I would reach this date again and still be no closer to being a mother. (And please don’t give me any comments about how I still am my babies’ mama, they are always with me, etc. While true, it is not the same as having a living, breathing child to take care of and love). In honour of this day, I thought I would share the only “bump” photo in existence from my pregnancy – courtesy of my mother who insisted on taking it. I was planning to wait until I actually looked pregnant and not just bloated and frumpy, but I never got the chance.
This and a handful of ultrasound printouts are the only evidence I have that I was ever pregnant. Oh well, gotta keep swimming, to paraphrase Dory. I’m meeting up with my great aunt and uncle this morning (no work because it’s a holiday in Germany), but I hope I’ll be able to go to the cemetery later.
Anyway, on to my September recap, although honestly the entire month went by in a flash and I don’t feel like I did much at all. I’m linking up with the lovely Kristen, of course.
Jan was away on the first full weekend of the month, so on the Saturday I went for a bit of an explore. There’s a place close to Basel called Münchenstein and I had read there’s a ruined castle there, right in the centre of the village, so I went in search of it. I forgot to take my camera so I can’t show you a photo (although I put some phone shots on Instagram, which you my have seen if we’re connected on there), but I found it. The path/stairs outside and the house next to it are private property but there’s a sign saying you can walk there. Nonetheless, a woman standing outside one of the buildings at the bottom of the stairs spotted me reading the sign and glared at me like I was desecrating the place. Rude! The following weekend, Jan was away again, but the one after that was the only one in the entire month where he wasn’t either away with a choir or spending both Saturday and Sunday at rehearsals. We decided to go out for the afternoon on the Saturday, but needed somewhere close since he had to do something with a choir in the evening (literally stand outside the theatre and hum for 9 minutes, then leave. Weird project). We decided on Brugg, which the Internet told me is a “picturesque town”. Spoiler alert: it’s not! I mean, it’s not horrible… there are a couple of nice buildings and the river is pretty, but when I read “picturesque” I kind of expect something more. Windisch, which is either the neighbouring town or a district of Brugg (I never quite figured it out), has the remains of a Roman amphitheatre – called Vindonissa – so that was kind of cool. We had a nice afternoon, but I wouldn’t necessarily recommend going out of your way to visit Brugg.
The “Storchenturm” in Brugg
We went to see John Cleese at the beginning of the month. I think people who didn’t know much of his stuff would have got more out of it since the show mainly consisted of him showing clips from various things on a large screen and explaining how they came up with it/the background to certain things or just showing his favourite clips. It was a bit like a documentary about projects John Cleese had been involved in, but live. Not that it wasn’t good, but I’m not sure it was worth what we paid for the tickets. Oh well.
Cross stitch and card making
I was mostly making Halloween cards in September – I’m now up to 14 completed. Plus a few birthday cards for Post Pals. I meant to start on my Christmas card cross stitching and technically I did, but I only completed one design so I really, really need to get a move on in October!
For the second month in a row, I read 13 books. I had days where I didn’t pick up a book at all, which is unusual for me. I was tired most of the time and I also got stuck on one book that I enjoyed when I was reading it but never seemed to feel like picking up. Still, 13 is a decent amount so I’m happy.
I got the box set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for my birthday, so Jan and I started watching that in September. I am loving my trip back down memory lane so far. I’m hoping Jan will have some time to continue watching it with me this month because October feels like the perfect time for demons and vampires and all things undead.
My “baby” brother turned 13 (I officially feel old!) and my godson turned seven. Not that I actually celebrated either birthday since they are in England and I’m not, but they happened. Here’s the birthday card I stitched for my brother (I’ve blurred out the name):
Also, I started my current job on 1 September 2009, so it was my 10-year anniversary. Again, I did not actually celebrate but I got a letter from the bosses and will get a one-off bonus payment with my October wages. Perfect timing for Christmas shopping!
Miscellaneous/general life stuff
I don’t really have much to add in this section. I’ve been trying to declutter… using the Swiss method – basically take an empty cardboard box, write the word “Gratis” (=free) on it, fill with things you don’t want and place outside for the neighbours to help themselves. I managed to get rid of a few things that way. I also took about 25 books to free public bookcases in September… I still have a few more in the carrier bag I mentioned in my last post, but I will hopefully be taking those away this weekend. I made apple and rhubarb crumble the other week to use up some apples that we’d had for too long (the rhubarb was frozen) and I decided it should definitely count towards my 5-a-day since I didn’t put any sugar at all in the filling. The topping contained wholegrain porridge oats and pecan nuts. I am a crumble-making genius.
That’s all I’ve got for ya. Like I said, this month went by way too fast.
Let me know what you’ve been up to lately, and of course check out the link up to find out what’s new with the rest of the blogosphere.
Wow, I seem to have stopped posting for a couple of weeks there. But don’t worry, I aten’t ded (If you don’t get that reference I’m not sure we can be friends.) (Just kidding.) (Or am I?). I am aware that I’m starting to sound like a stuck record, but how is it December already? I’m so not prepared for this! Although I do kind of want this year to be over, so there is that. Still have to actually get through December though and I have no idea how I’m going to get everything done. We’re not even going away for Christmas so I don’t know how things are so stressful. Work is crazy busy again, I have at least three more packages to take to the post office (and really need to do it soon before I miss the last chance for them to reach their destinations before Christmas), I still have almost all my Christmas cards to make/send – which admittedly is self-inflicted but it still needs doing. Then I always try to give the whole flat a thorough clean before Christmas so that a) I don’t have to do anything on Christmas apart from cook and b) we can start the year with the place looking decent for once (which admittedly lasts all of two weeks, but oh well). Other people spring clean, I Christmas clean. But I am supposed to be talking about November right now, so let’s do that. Usually I do a “currently” type post for these monthly recaps, but that doesn’t really seem appropriate this time so I’m just kind of going to ramble on. Feel free to stop reading at any point 😉
Jan finished his old job on 31st October and wasn’t starting his new one until 12th November (which involved flying to the US on the 11th for three weeks of “orientation”), so before I lost the babies I had applied for a few days off so we could spend some time together and go and look at some baby furniture. Needless to say, the latter didn’t happen, but I decided to still take the time off anyway. On 1st November (which was a holiday for me anyway – All Saints’ Day), we had an appointment with the fertility specialist. We were basically told the same as at the hospital: they advise waiting two cycles to physically recover then we can try again as soon as we feel emotionally prepared. He also wanted me to come in for an ultrasound on day 12 of my next cycle to check that the curettage hadn’t damaged my uterus in any way (pregnancy makes everything more sensitive anyway, and then the infection on top of that increased the risk of damage, apparently), so I did that and luckily everything was fine. At least one bit of good news! He also said it would be 6+ weeks before my period came back, but luckily it was closer to 5. The doctor’s advice was basically to go ahead and use our remaining two IUI cycles… while the pregnancy may have reset my hormones he still thought that if I managed to fall pregnant naturally it wouldn’t happen for at least six months… and I haven’t exactly got any younger in the five months since I conceived! Also, based on when I actually ended up ovulating in the cycle after my period came back it doesn’t look like anything’s changed. We’re officially “unexplained” but the one theory any doctor did manage to come up with is that my body doesn’t respond properly to the hormones, meaning my follicles grow too slow and by the time I ovulate my eggs are old and low quality and thus fail to fertilise. I ovulated on day 17, which admittedly is quite early for me (almost normal, in fact) but seems to suggest that nothing has changed. So it looks like I still need the help. Not looking forward to giving myself daily injections again, but that’s just how it has to be.
Jan managed to speak to a funeral director and then get an appointment with the person at the local council who deals with bereavement for the first Monday in November, so we decided to go away for the weekend before that, just for a change of scenery and to not have to think about everything that had happened. We went to Yverdon les Bains, where I was very disappointed to discover that the Museum of science fiction, utopia and extraordinary voyages was closed that weekend! I will definitely be going back just for that. We also managed to leave the suitcase behind when we changed trains (we got it back a few days later though), so the first thing we did in Yverdon les Bains was buy toothbrushes, toothpaste and underwear. There wasn’t loads to do there, but we managed to fill our time with food, walking and a visit to the town museum, which is located in the castle. If anyone is keeping track of my 40 before 40, one item is to visit a place in Switzerland starting with each letter of my first name. Yverdon obviously starts with Y… I’m beginning at the end, apparently.
We met with the bereavement person on the Monday at 9 a.m.. He had already spoken to the funeral directors/crematorium so it was basically just filling in forms. The cremation was taking place on the Tuesday, then we had the choice for them to be laid to rest at the memorial for babies born too soon on either the Wednesday or Thursday. Since I had to be back at work on the Thursday, we chose Wednesday. So on Wednesday 7th November 2018, we laid our beautiful first born babies to rest. I’m not going to get into that here, so if you’re interested read this post.
It was still early, so we went and picked up a car, drove part-way up a mountain and then took the Geissflue circular route. When we started off, it was very cloudy and we were right in amongst them, but then it started to clear so at times it was cloudy on one side of us and blue skies on the other. So random, but very cool looking (photo below does not do it justice). As it gradually brightened up I even ended up having to take my coat off because it was too warm… in November! The view was gorgeous… autumn colours galore. It was nice to get out in the fresh air. The whole walk/hike took us about 2 hours (including photo breaks!), which I was pretty pleased with considering a month earlier we went for a walk up the hill near where we live and I had to sit down twice because I felt weak. Nice to see the iron supplements worked! Once we arrived back at the car we drove to Aargau and had delicious Flammkuchen for lunch.
As previously mentioned, Jan flew to the US on 11th November for three weeks, but I didn’t spend those entire three weeks alone. Someone from one of his choirs came to stay for a weekend so that she wouldn’t have to travel back to Geneva after practice every day, I finally worked in the office in Germany again for the first time on 21st November because that evening was our Christmas meal – I had goose with bread dumplings and red cabbage – and then my mum and sister came over for a few days last week (was it really only last week? It feels like ages ago!). I was working most of the time, but I did manage to get the Wednesday off and we went to Freiburg in Brisgau for a few hours. We looked at the Christmas markets and my sister managed to purchase a decoration for her Christmas tree then we found a café where we ate burgers and drank beer before taking the train home so they could relax and pack ready for their flight home the next day. It was nice to see them, even though the reason for them coming was a sad one (so that I wouldn’t have to be alone for ages after everything that had happened in October and November… there was also more bad news for a family member that I won’t talk about on the blog because it’s not my place).
In between all that I worked a lot – broken record again, but it really has been so busy. The 12 days I was off sick when I lost the boys and the few days off at the beginning of November seem like a long time ago. I am looking forward to Christmas purely because I have 13 entire days without work. I’ve also made and posted cards to most of the Post Pals (yeah, I managed those ones… it’s just my friends and family ones that I’ve barely started on!) and I’ve been trying to eat extra healthily in preparation for starting the process of trying to conceive again. That kind of went out the window when my family were visiting with all the beer and wine I consumed, but I managed to eat fish at least twice most weeks, upped my water intake (I definitely don’t drink enough usually) and did my best to eat plenty of fruit and vegetables. I’m trying to continue with that this month, but I’m not going to promise that the odd Christmas treat (or 10) won’t creep in…
So, that was November. What’s new with you? Are you as unprepared for Christmas as I am? Come link up and see what everyone else has been up to.
Believe it or not, I was actually up before 8 a.m. on Saturday! One of Jan’s choirs was having rehearsals over the weekend so a girl from the choir who lives in Geneva was staying out our place… although Jan isn’t even here right now (he’s in the US doing a three-week orientation for his new job). Obviously I couldn’t leave her to breakfast alone, so I was up. I don’t have photographic evidence of that fact though because I had forgotten it was photo an hour day until I went on Twitter at quarter to ten. So my daily photos start with 10 a.m….
10 a.m. Shower time.
11 a.m. Opening my post. Surprise, surprise… I received a book. I also received something much better than a book (yes, such things exist) but that will be addressed in a separate post.
12 noon. Boots on, off out.
1 p.m. In town buying some stuff. It was colder than I expected.
2 p.m. On the bus home. Weird photo, but I couldn’t think what else to do. People kept looking at me!
3 p.m. Jan asked me to scan something for him and this seemed like a good time to do it.
4 p.m. Time for a nice, hot cup of tea.
5 p.m. We recently (finally!) got some desperately needed furniture for my “office” and I’ve been gradually filling it up. At this point I was sorting out some craft stuff.
6 p.m. The desk slowly getting there. No, I don’t want to discuss how bad it looked before I started sorting it. *Shame* The stack of papers on the left is Jan’s though… I refuse to take responsibility for that!
7 p.m. Back in town. The choir had finished its practice and I was meeting my guest for pizza.
I didn’t take any more photos after that… it would have seemed a little rude. Luckily I had an even number 😉 We ate, came home, had a long conversation about books triggered by me trying and failing to fit the ones I had picked up from the public bookcase in the afternoon on my to-read shelves. I lent her a book she’d been wanting to read. Then we went to bed.
A fairly typical Saturday really. Except for once I didn’t have loads of housework to do because I had spent my evenings cleaning in anticipation of having someone to stay.
How was your Saturday?
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On an entirely unrelated note, a couple of days after I came out of hospital, I noticed that some of the leaves on the previously green tree outside our building had started changing colour. I know autumn had technically started over a week earlier, but to me it felt somehow significant… I lost my babies right when the season started to change. Yesterday, it started snowing. I’m not sure I’m ready for another change of season yet. It’s all going so fast!
Tomorrow is our work Christmas meal (the only day between now and Christmas that nobody is off), so I’ll be travelling to Germany in the morning and working there for the day. The last time I was in the office was the day I told my colleagues I was pregnant. The next time I was supposed to be there was the day before I lost the babies. Going there tomorrow, no longer pregnant, is going to be surreal. It has to be done sometime though.
Yesterday we laid our boys to rest at the memorial for babies who were born too soon to be registered. They were cremated the day before – we asked for them to be laid in a single basket for the cremation, that way they’ll always be together. Then their ashes were placed in a heart-shaped wooden urn. We weren’t there for the cremation, but we saw the urn at the cemetery yesterday and it was beautiful.
The sun was shining brightly yesterday, a beautiful day to say goodbye. We read them Guess How Much I Love You – their first and last bedtime story – and told them we love them and we’ll come and visit them again. Hopefully at some point with their younger sibling. It was sad but nice. I’m glad we got to say goodbye and that we have a place where we know they are.
Afterwards, we walked into town and had a delicious hot chocolate at the chocolate café – much more fitting than raising a glass of something alcoholic, I think. We also lit the tea lights again in the evening.
“I miss you more than words can say A part of me has torn away A china heart will always break A fracture to a twisted face But things are gonna heal again Eyes once blind will see again I miss you more than words can say I miss you more than words Quickfade” ~ Feeder, Quickfade
🌟 Shine bright, tiny stars. We promise to never forget you. 🌟
It’s 1 November today. October is over and I feel like I can finally take a breath.
Today also happens to be the first Thursday of the month, and thus What’s New With You day with Kristen, so you should definitely check that out. I won’t be linking up – my regular readers know how my October was and those coming over just from the link up don’t need to be confronted with that – but I wanted to write something to mark the end of the absolute worst month of my entire life.
In October, we lost our baby boys. With them we lost our hopes and dreams, our joy about finally starting our family. All our plans for the future have had to be put on hold… we have no idea for how long.
In October, I also lost my grandma – an amazing woman who never stopped making everyone laugh, no matter what life threw at her. She raised nine children, lost her husband relatively early and still kept on going. If I can get through the hard times with even half as much strength as she did I’ll be doing okay.
While we’re on the subject of grandma’s, my other grandma had a pacemaker fitted about a week ago (eventually, after it was postponed twice!). The operation went well, thankfully, but really universe? Was it actually necessary to throw another thing at me in October?
In October I also learned that I can get through the absolute worst thing I could have imagined without falling apart. Whatever life throws at me, I can survive it. Of course I have cried, raged and felt numb at various times. I’ve gone through phases of being unable to believe this is actually happening to me. In the early days, I occasionally actually forgot I wasn’t still pregnant, then I would suddenly remember that it no longer mattered how I got out of bed or what kind of cheese I ate and the sadness would hit all over again. I feel like I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster for the past month. But I didn’t break down completely. Even at my lowest points, it never occurred to me to give up. It’s an ongoing process, my life will never, ever be the same, but I know I will get through this and whatever lies ahead.
In October, Jan and I grew even closer. We had already been through a lot over the past couple of years just trying to conceive our babies. We got through that together, and now we are getting through the loss of our babies together. I am genuinely so proud of how we handled this situation, and particularly of how Jan handled it. He dealt with all the practical aspects – keeping our families informed about what was happening, calling work for me when I couldn’t bring myself to say what had happened out loud, calling the hospital and the pathologist to find out what was happening. He held me when I cried, made me cups of tea and lit candles for both our boys and my grandma. And he also looked after me throughout my physical recovery – bringing me my antibiotics and breakfast in bed so I wouldn’t have to get up, making sure I ate enough even when I didn’t feel like it, doing a load of washing when I first came home from the hospital so all my maternity clothes were clean ready to be put away where I didn’t have to look at them. In the hospital we both talked a lot about our feelings (there wasn’t much else to do!) and I am now more convinced than ever that he is going to be a fantastic dad when the time comes for us to actually bring a baby home. Soon we will hopefully start the process of trying to conceive all over again, and there is nobody else I would rather go through it with.
In October, I also learned that people can be amazing. My friends, of course, have all been wonderful (they are my friends for a reason!), but I have also received lovely messages from the most unexpected people – from someone I knew at school and was convinced hated me back then to the colleague I would least have expected to reach out. I guess the old adage about finding out who your friends are is true. My entire extended family have also rallied round with messages of support. Every single one of my blogging friends (and I consider you all my friends) has been fantastic. Every kind word, every message of support, every e-mail and every text has meant the absolute world to me. Both people I love and people I barely even interacted with previously have reached out, told me their stories, helped me believe it really, truly will get better. Even through all the sadness, so many people out there have actually managed to make me smile.
Even though I am mostly okay on most days, I am glad to be saying goodbye to October, but along with the grief I will always remember the positives. It’s going to be a long winter this year, but with Jan, my friends and my family, I will come out the other side stronger than before. And I truly believe that one day we will actually get a baby to bring home and raise. I just hope we don’t have to go through any more heartbreak before we achieve that goal.
It’s only been three weeks (tomorrow) since we lost our babies, so it feels weird to say that, right now, I feel okay. I went to Jan’s concert on Saturday, had a conversation with someone who never knew I was pregnant and probably now will never know. This is my first full week back at work, and I’ve already returned to my former levels of busy-ness… it’s going to take me every last minute of my allocated hours to finish all the jobs that have been planned in for me. Everything has returned to normal, and surprisingly I’m fine with that.
The first few times I felt normal or even, briefly, happy, I immediately started feeling guilty. How can I possibly feel normal when my boys are gone before they ever even had a chance at life? But then something Hazel said really resonated with me: “Sometimes we can’t have any more sad“. As cliché as it sounds, I really was devastated when I lost my babies. The first day Jan was back at work, I sat at home on my own, wrote down the entire story in my diary, and literally sobbed. During those first ten-ish days, the grief felt raw and any little reminder of what we had lost was likely to set me off. But there’s only so long a person can go on like that.To continue with the clichés, at some point there are no more tears left to cry.
It may still only have been three weeks (although to me it often feels like longer), but I truly believe those initial days of letting myself cry, getting my thoughts out on paper and on my blog, responding to messages of support and being able to express exactly what I was feeling, have all helped me get over that initial period of deep grief. Of course I am still sad. Of course I am still constantly reminded of what I’ve lost. But for the moment I’m mostly doing okay. And I’m mostly okay with that.
This morning my family said goodbye to my grandma. I couldn’t be there, but I was in spirit and I had one of my cousins read something out for me at the celebration of life. We will miss grandma always but we all have so many memories that will live on forever.
Meanwhile, yesterday was our follow-up appointment at the hospital. Pretty much as expected they have no idea where the infection came from. All my swabs were negative, so I definitely didn’t have any vaginal infection. They found traces of infection in the placenta and the babies though (the boys were otherwise perfect – no physical abnormalities/defects that would have caused a miscarriage). The most likely explanation is that some bacteria that’s naturally present in the vagina made its way into my uterus and developed into an infection there – a random event that couldn’t have been predicted and was undetectable from the outside, other than via a blood test. Next time I will be in a different risk category and if I start spotting again they will happily do a blood test even if I have no other symptoms or anything that indicates an infection. If there is a next time…
I have alluded to this, if not in blog posts then certainly in replies comments, but now I’m just going to say it outright. Our babies were conceived using fertility treatments. Not IVF (I know that’s where everyone’s mind goes first!), but the hormones I had to inject myself with were the same. We were incredibly lucky that it worked first time and resulted in not just one but two babies. I have no idea whether it would work a second time. Right now, I don’t even know whether we automatically get to try a second time or if my health insurance will have to approve the procedure again. We were originally approved for three tries, but the remaining two may have been cancelled out when I actually became pregnant. All I do know is that it’s highly unlikely I will ever become pregnant on my own. And I’m 35 now… time is not exactly on my side. And, whatever happens I have to wait two cycles to allow my body to physically return to normal before we can start trying again.
For now, we at least have some kind of closure. Perhaps not as many answers as I would have liked, but reassurance that it was nobody’s fault. Not ours, Not the hospital’s. We were simply the victims of bad luck. Now it’s time to heal. Then we will pick ourselves up, take a deep breath, and join the infertility roller coaster again…
This is going to be among the hardest posts I’ve ever written (this one was pretty difficult as well), but I hope also therapeutic. Writing my blog has always been a way for me to make sense of my thoughts and feelings and come to terms with what’s happening. And it feels important to me to write my boys’ story somewhere people can see it, knowing that it’s all they’ll ever have.
Please don’t feel you have to read this if it will be in any way triggering for you. I know it will bring back horrible memories for some people, and others may just not want to read something so sad. That’s okay. Also, for the squeamish, I won’t be going into gory detail but blood and fluids, as well as certain body parts, will be mentioned. Also, it will be long. Again, please don’t feel obliged to read this. I am writing it primarily for me and my sons, and also partially for any others who have experienced similar and may be feeling alone.
It all started on Sunday, 30 September. I woke up late to discover I was spotting slightly – just a little bit of pink, nothing really worrying, but having had no spotting throughout my entire pregnancy I was obviously worried. Jan was in France with one of his choirs so I was also home alone. I called the gynaecological emergency number at the women’s clinic and since I wasn’t in pain they told me I didn’t need to come in and should simply follow up with my gynaecologist the next day. I spent the rest of that day taking things as easy as possible. The pink eventually turned to brown (indicating old blood) and then disappeared but I decided I would still call my gynaecologist.
On the Monday, I started work early to try and get some extra hours in before I had to leave. The gynaecologist practice opened at 9 and I finally got through just after 10 – the phone was busy for ages. By that time the spotting was back – still pale pink with some brown. My uterus felt heavy but I still had no pain. They had just given away their last emergency ultrasound appointment and because I was having twins they preferred to send me elsewhere anyway so my midwife at the practice called the hospital on my behalf. She phoned back a few minutes later telling me to go straight to the gynaecological emergency area at the women’s clinic – they would do an ultrasound and make sure all was good. One bus ride and a lot of waiting later (there were more urgent cases before me) I was finally seen. The doctor took swabs, checked my cervix, did an ultrasound and could find no obvious reason for the spotting. He told me they would test the samples he had taken but it was probably just one of those things and nothing to worry about, so I went home and worked for the rest of the day.
On Tuesday I was originally supposed to have been in office, but I arranged to stay home as otherwise I couldn’t possibly have finished a job I was working on. I spotted on and off for most of the day, but I suspect that was at least partly from the examination on Monday. It had stopped by the evening and I went to bed relieved. The next day was a holiday in Germany and I decided I would spend the entire day relaxing in bed, only getting up for food (Jan was still in France at this point, but was due back on Wednesday afternoon). Instead, I woke up at midnight with horrible back pain – the doctor later told me this was probably when everything really started. I couldn’t get comfortable however I lay, so I got up, walked the corridor for a bit and drank some water. As soon as I had drunk a large glass of water the pain subsided and I was able to sleep. The next day I was up at 8 to check something for work, tired and failed to get back to sleep, then discovered at around 9:30 that I was spotting again. I decided to shower, try to eat and then call the hospital again. Because of the back pain, this time I was told to come straight in. By the time I got there I was also having intermittent tightening sensations in my uterus, some slightly painful. I was seen much faster this time – after maybe half an hour (I’m a bit hazy on some of the times though).
The doctor told me all the swabs from Monday had come back negative. They only one they didn’t have back was chlamydia but since I had been tested for that before by the very same hospital (routine during infertility testing) she knew I didn’t have it. She then said she wanted to do a transvaginal ultrasound because she suspected my cervix was short. She discovered that not only was it short, but also slightly open. It was definitely not open on the Monday, and she suspected that it had happened overnight, at the same time I had the backache. She could also see some yellowish “gunk” beyond the opening – inside my uterus – which led her to suspect infection. I was then told I was being admitted, that they hoped putting me on bed rest would stop me from dilating further, but if I actively started having contractions they couldn’t give me anything to stop them that early in my pregnancy. Somebody came by to take blood so they could confirm whether there really was an infection and the doctor then also did an abdominal ultrasound to look at the babies. Again, I’m hazy on time, but I think it was 12:30 (I now wish I had checked!). Both babies were doing fine, great heartbeats and I could see them moving around on the screen. That was the last time I would see them alive. I called Jan to tell him what was happening (he was now waiting for a train) and then settled down to wait.
I lay in the doctor’s office for what felt like forever waiting for the admission to be sorted. During that time I had no more pain or uterus tightening, but when the nurses showed up to take my upstairs I stood up and immediately felt a gush of liquid that leaked down my legs. The nurse had me pull down my pants and we saw clear liquid dripping out of me. I was given a pad and made to lie back down while they made more frantic phone calls. At this point I was terrified but trying to stay calm. Before we went up I got another, thicker, pad before being taken to the ward lying on the bed… no more standing for me! Once upstairs, the nurses gave the doctor my first pad for testing and I was moved over to the bed on the ward. The doctor came back a short time later and confirmed that the liquid was amniotic fluid and it was now even more likely that I would go into active labour. She told me that if I did start having contractions they would let me give birth by myself and explained what would happen if I needed an operation (curettage – the C in D&C) to remove any remaining tissue or parts of the placenta. An anaesthetist also came by to explain their role and get my consent for things, and a nurse then came to place an IV, at first just for saline. I was then also allowed to order lunch (I had eaten half a slice of toast all day). Shortly before 3 p.m. I had another ultrasound – because I was now leaking fluid the doctor wanted to check the babies’ heartbeats. The screen was turned slightly away and I couldn’t see anything, but they told me that both babies had strong heartbeats and were still moving around happily. Baby A’s sac had lost a lot of amniotic fluid but baby B’s sac was still intact. I was allowed to go to the loo (on what I can only describe as a potty chair!) and could still feel the amniotic fluid leaking out of me. I was also still spotting and it was more red than pink. By this point my only thought was please, please hang on until Jan gets here. I was having intermittent pains in my back and sides by this point, but not too bad and nothing I would describe as regular.
My lunch arrived and I managed to eat a little, but honestly not very much. I felt hungry before I got it but then had no appetite – the act of putting food in my mouth and chewing just felt like too much. I ate a little chicken breast and some rice and managed the whole pot of apple purée I’d chosen for dessert. The doctor also came back and said my blood test showed I definitely had an infection and I would be getting IV antibiotics. A different nurse (the original one had gone home due to a family emergency) brought the antibiotics at 4:30 p.m. and I asked for pain relief then as well. She took my temperature, which was 37.8°C (it had been 35.8°C when I arrived at the hospital so within just a few hours something had happened!) and gave me paracetamol. Jan was almost back in Basel by this time but still needed to stop off at home and pick up some things for both of us – the original nurse had told me I wouldn’t be getting a room mate and he could stay the night. Jan arrived at around 5:30 and at the same time I rang for more painkillers – this time I got Ibuprofen. A few minutes later, my dinner arrived. When I moved up in the bed to eat, I felt another larger gush of liquid and called the nurse to find that this time it wasn’t just fluid but also blood. She said it wasn’t too much though and I should still eat. Again, I only managed a few bites but did eat all of my apple purée. When the catering people came to take my plates, they offered to get me something else and I asked for more apple purée but I never actually got to eat it. While I was finishing the first pot I felt more liquid gushing out of me and this time it didn’t seem to be spotting. The nurse checked and then went to get the doctor because I was losing quite a bit of blood. The doctor came with more antibiotics – oral this time – examined me and did another ultrasound. She told us she suspected placental abruption and also said if one baby was coming but the other was still okay they wouldn’t induce labour with the second but would see about putting a stitch in my cervix. That brief hope was immediately dashed though – an ultrasound showed that only the placentas were still in my uterus. Both babies had already moved down to the birth canal. I asked whether we could find out what sex our babies were once they arrived and she said we could see them if we wanted. Jan wasn’t sure but left the decision to me, and I immediately knew that if we could see them then I definitely wanted to. The water I washed my antibiotics down with was the last thing I was allowed to eat or drink – as soon as the ultrasound was done I was made nil-by-mouth in anticipation of potential surgery.
The next few hours involved progressively worsening pain – mainly in my back, sometimes radiating round to the sides, and occasionally also in my uterus. Jan started timing the contractions (as I now know this was) at 6 minutes apart. Eventually I just felt back pain all the time and kept being given progressively stronger painkillers until morphine finally worked. Jan was there the entire time, holding my hand, stroking my hair and doing his best to distract me. I 100% could not have done it without him and will be forever grateful for his support. The doctor was in and out and at some point I was sure something was stuck in my vagina – the doctor could feel something but was unable to move it. Eventually I felt more awful pain in my back (although slightly dulled by the morphine) and told Jan I needed the doctor. Just then I also felt pressure between my legs, gave an involuntary push and felt something pop followed by a gush of liquid – Jan went outside and found the doctor just arriving, who came in and confirmed that baby A had arrived. She cut and clamped the cord and then picked our baby up so, so gently to be taken away and washed. A little later she came back and told us it was a boy. We had a son. The nurses washed him, wrapped him in a tiny blanket (sewn by a charity) and brought him in to us. He was so small but absolutely perfect – tiny little ears, hands, feet, even finger and toenails.
For the next couple of hours, not much happened. I thought the contractions were starting again, but they were very mild and quickly stopped. I wanted the loo and was brought a chamber pot(!) but couldn’t go while lying on my back. Eventually the doctor came back, did another vaginal exam, had me try to push and then went to speak to her boss She then came and told us that she was pretty sure everything was already basically out and that she thought it might help if I could sit up, so the nurse brought the potty chair and I was helped onto that. Everything went fast after that and I immediately passed the first placenta then gave birth to my second baby. The second placenta got slightly stuck, but with me pushing and the doctor giving a helping hand it also came out and I was put back into bed while the nurses took everything away. The doctor went out, then came back to tell us we had a second son. He was again brought to us in a tiny blanket and we were able to say hello. Both of our sons were then placed in a little basket, facing each other. We were allowed to keep them with us as long as we wanted, so I asked to have them in the room overnight so we could have at least one night as a family. Some may find that morbid but it was the right decision for me. The next day we had photos taken with them – our first and last family photos – before deciding to say goodbye. The nurses left us alone, we hugged, I cried in Jan’s arms and then told my baby boys that I loved them.
We decided to name our sons, choosing an A and a B name since they had always been known as baby A and baby B until that point. We picked names we both like but wouldn’t necessarily have used. If any long-term readers would like to know the names I am happy to share by e-mail (Jan prefers to keep them to a smaller circle – I haven’t shared them on Facebook because we don’t think every person I was at primary school with for a few months or who was indifferent to me in high school needs to know!).
A was born at 9:20 p.m. and B at 11:20 p.m on Wednesday, 3rd October 2018. I had been 16 weeks and 4 days pregnant.
I was taken down for surgery at around 1 or 1:30 in the morning – it turned out there was actually quite a bit of placenta left and it was good that they did it! Then I was taken back to the ward and we were left to sleep. I only managed a few hours and when I kept waking up I found it comforting to know that my sons were there, that I was being a parent to them for a little while at least even if they were already gone. Jan asked the doctor and it’s impossible to know exactly when they passed. All I know is that they were both fine at 3 p.m., but too fragile to live and breathe outside the womb. My babies didn’t die inside me… my sons would still be here if I hadn’t gone into labour. And if it had happened 5 weeks and a couple of days later, they would have had to be officially registered. They would have had birth and death certificates and have existed legally. All this makes the term “miscarriage” seem so inadequate, especially since looking around the Internet for late-term or second trimester miscarriages I mostly find stories of people who started spotting or had a routine ultrasound only to discover their babies had passed away a few days or weeks earlier. Obviously that is no less tragic and my heart goes out to every single person who has experienced a loss, no matter how it happened or at what stage. But of course the closer someone else’s situation comes to our own the less isolating it feels, so I am hoping other ladies who have experienced something similar will find comfort in knowing they’re not alone. Our babies were here. They existed and they were already so, so loved. I will hopefully have a living child at some point but I will always be mama to my first-born sons and I will never, ever forget them.
One final note… in German, babies lost during pregnancy or shortly after birth are known as “Sternenkinder” (star children) and the charity that provides the blankets is called “Staernechind” (star child in Swiss German). If our babies had lived, the blog pseudonyms I had planned in the event that we had two boys were Castor and Pollux, mythological twins and the two brightest stars in the constellation Gemini. So it seems appropriate to refer to them as our little stars (especially since neither of us is religious and we’re not really comfortable referring to them as having their “angel wings” We are not at all offended if other people do, it just doesn’t feel right for us.).
So, that’s my story. I cried for most of the time I was writing this, but I also feel a sense of peace at having got it out there.
On Wednesday, a week after losing our babies, I went back to the women’s clinic where I gave birth. I had been feeling dizzy for most of Tuesday and had a bad headache that night. When the headache was still there on Wednesday morning I decided to call my gynaecologist and was advised to go back to the hospital. After three people failed to take my blood, resulting in my lying there for hours waiting for an anaesthetist, another nurse finally managed and they discovered my haemoglobin was still low… specifically it was 10 grams per decilitre or 102 grams per litre (the nurse used one measurement and the doctor used a different one). It should be 12 or 120. Interestingly I also found out that on Thursday, before I was given IV iron, it had been down to 6… yet I actually felt worse this week than I did then. Maybe because in hospital I was pretty much just lying around whereas on Wednesday I was trying to actually do stuff.
While I was lying around at the clinic waiting to find out what was wrong with me, my mum was keeping me up to date with the other sad family news… within hours of losing my boys, I found out my maternal grandmother had pneumonia. By this Wednesday it was obvious she was going, and she finally passed at 10 p.m. that night, in her own home and surrounded by all 9 of her children – exactly what she had wanted and a fantastic achievement (trust me, getting the all together is hard). She’s been bedridden for years and had Alzheimer’s, among other issues, so in a way it’s a relief that she’s finally at peace, but she was an absolutely amazing woman and will be a huge miss for the family. If I can master the challenges life keeps throwing at me even half as well as she did I will be happy.
All in all, this has been an absolutely awful few weeks for my family (there have also been a couple of other health scares and things that are not mine to talk about here). Next Friday we will hopefully find out what exactly happened with my pregnancy and at some point we should also get out boys’ ashes back and be able to lay them to rest at the memorial for babies who were lost too soon to be officially registered. After that, we can truly start to heal and look to the future. I would just appreciate it if the universe could not throw anything else at us for a while. I think we’ve had enough!
(I’m aware that you can only see the photo in the previous post if you follow me on Instagram. That was the easiest way to get the news out there at the time. I plan to write a proper post explaining exactly what happened but I just can’t right now.)
The worst thing about this entire situation is that I’ve lost so much more than just our babies – and legally not even that. At almost 17 weeks, this is considered a late-term miscarriage. They don’t get to be registered or officially named. Legally, we are not and have never been parents. My baby boys will forever be no more than a footnote in my medical history. And yet they were here, they were real. I saw them. I told them I loved them. And now they’re gone.
But that’s not all I’ve lost.
We were, of course, looking forward to being parents… but also specifically to being twin parents. Two babies at once was obviously going to be a challenge, but I am convinced, also very rewarding. We had already started discussing twin prams, how to feed two at once, where they would sleep. Although we hadn’t bought anything yet, everything was finally starting to feel real. All those dreams, all those plans are also gone.
I had started daydreaming about life with our babies. Who would they take after? What colour eyes would they have? Would they be musical like Jan? Would they love books as much as I do? Now I will never know any of those things.
And beyond that… beyond just me. Yes, I’ve lost my babies… but I’ve also lost Jan’s sons. Our parents’ first grandchildren. They would have been nephews, great-grandsons… they would have been so loved and cherished. Now all that’s gone as well.
We will get through this. We won’t give up and we will have another baby. But we won’t have these babies. And that really hurts.