My Own Story

When I first found out that I was expecting a child I was ecstatic, to say the least. My husband just could not believe it either. We had suffered nearly three long years of tests for infertility and lots of probing questions. I had many exploratory examinations to find out why I could not conceive. They all proved negative and nothing could be found to be wrong. I had even taken the fertility drug 'Clomid' for a year to no avail.
    My husband and I told all our friends and family the good news and the word soon spread around our area. Everyone gave us their best wishes as they knew how desperate we had been to have a baby. We planned the baby's future from the moment I knew for sure that it was really inside me. I was six weeks pregnant the day I actually found out, but I had been quite certain for about ten days previously. I went to the baby store and looked at the beautiful cribs and prams etc. I could not wait to be bringing them into our home. I began knitting and crotcheting baby clothes and blankets in preperation for 'the big day.' I felt as though I were in heaven itself; I really could not believe that I was pregnant. Three years of regular monthlies had led me to believe that I would never conceive at all. My husband and I chose a name for the baby. It was to be 'Stephen' if it was a boy and 'Katie Anne' if it was a girl. (Anne after my mothers first name) Within the next few days our spare room had been laden with baby clothes and blankets etc. A couple of friends bought us some presents for our expected arrival too. I felt so lucky and I pinched myself regularly to ensure that I was not dreaming!
    Just six short days later I began to get severe cramps in my belly. I instinctively knew that something was dreadfully wrong and rang my doctor's surgery. The receptionist told me to go to bed and wait for the doctor to arrive, he was very busy. I rang my mother too and she turned up soon after with my sister who was a few years younger than I. My husband rushed home from work as soon as I rang him but by that time I had started to bleed very heavily. I had locked myself in the bathroom as I didn't want him to see the mess I was in or the agonising pain. I prayed that my doctor would hurry and stop it all from happening with some pills or something. Alas, after about three hours I lost what at first looked like two, extremely large clots. At that precise moment the doctor entered the front door. I emerged from the bathroom feeling very weak and pale with the two lumps in a soap dish. He told me to lie down on the bed as I was shaking. I suppose it was the shock that made me feel so ill. He examined the contents that I had lost. It was then that he told me the dreadful news. 'You have just had a miscarriage, twins actually, there are two embryos here and I would say that you were between six to seven weeks pregnant.' I felt as though my world had collapsed, I was too shocked for words. My mother and sister looked at me very pitifully and obviously did not know what to say. There was an eerie silence in the bedroom for a while. I asked my doctor what he would do with my lost babies. He told me to just simply 'flush them down the toilet!' I think I expected an autopsy on them or something, I was very naive. My doctor gave me a few pills to make my womb contract to expel what was left inside. I was in agony for the rest of the day and I felt as though I were miscarrying all over again. It was after the doctor had left that I looked at what I had lost. My family all looked too. We could all make out the two shapes of my babies. They were very small but we could clearly see the arms and legs, tiny fingers and toes and their spines. I could not believe that a few hours before I had been pregnant with twins. I would have been overjoyed if I had found out I was expecting two babies! We were convinced that the twins would have been a girl and a boy. Our instincts told us that we had lost our much-wanted Katie Anne and Stephen. It was about twelve hours later that I realised that I would have to dispose of the two embryos before I went out of my mind! I just could not help staring at them and wondering why I had lost them. In a fit of anger, in the middle of the night, I flushed them down the loo and went to bed to have a good cry.
    After a few days I decided that I must have just been unlucky. In fact, my doctor had said the same thing to me. I waited until my next period arrived (which I hated as it should not have really come) and then began trying to conceive again. I could not believe my luck when the next period never came! Surely I could not be pregnant again so soon? I had waited three years to fall pregnant the last time. It was two long weeks later that my pregnancy test proved to be positive. I was over the moon, I was going to have another baby! I told everybody and I thanked God for this miracle which was helping me over my grief for the twins. I hoped that I had conceived only one child as I had convinced myself that I lost the twins because my body could not cope with carrying two babies at once. I convinced myself that it was a girl. I don't know why but everybody else thought the same. We decided to call her 'Sara Anne Louise'. I still liked the name Katie Anne but it did not seem right to use the same name for this baby as for the one I lost.
    My hopes were dashed five days later when I miscarried my baby again at home. "Why me?' was all I could keep saying. My doctor told me that I had just been unlucky again and that there was probably something wrong with my baby. He said that a future pregnancy would most likely be successful. I really wanted to believe him and my desire to become a mother was becoming greater still. I decided to wait a couple of months to let my body return to normal and then try to conceive again. I could not give up hope yet, it was too soon.
    I found that I was pregnant again three months after my second miscarriage. I was very fearful and excited all at the same time. Surely I would not miscarry again, nobody I knew had ever had three miscarriages in a row. Why should I be any different? I only told my hubby, my close family and one neighbour that I was pregnant, just in case things went wrong again. I was approaching my seventh week, the dangerous stage for me when I realised that I had to think more positive. I decided to guess the sex of the baby and choose a name too with my husband. I guessed that we were having a girl but my hubby said it would be a boy. I decided that we should choose two names so that we had one for either sex. We both liked the name 'Wayne' for a boy and 'Rachel' for a girl. Every hour of the next few days were precious and anxious for us. I constantly stroked my belly and talked to my baby; willing it to survive and grow. I suffered morning sickness which lasted most of the day and I had backache too. I thought that it could be a sign that things were progressing well in this pregnancy as I had not suffered much nausea before.
    I was alone when I started to bleed and get cramps again. I rang my doctor to tell him what was happening. He said that there was nothing that he could do to prevent me from having another miscarriage. He said that it seemed to be inevitable and to just watch that I did not bleed too heavily. I lost two babies again in the bathroom. I was stunned as I stood there and stared at their tiny formed bodies. I placed them in a small plastic container and took them to show my doctor that evening. He confirmed that I had lost twins again and gave me the same awful pills to make my womb contract all over again. I was in agony all through the night. I fell asleep crying in my husbands arms. I could tell that he was as grief stricken as I was but we remained silent for a day or two. There seemed to be nothing left to be said. There were only two words repeating in my mind; 'why me?' I had lost five babies in three pregnancies. What had I done to deserve it?
    It was after the tenth miscarriage that my marriage began to fall apart. I blamed myself most of the time but I found myself shouting to my hubby that it was all his fault. He retaliated by telling me that he placed the babies inside me and then I went on to lose them. He started to frequent the pubs and began to drink rather heavily. The rows became worse and eventually, after ten years together I decided to file for a divorce. Our marriage had taken its toll with losing twelve much-wanted babies in all.
    We both eventually met met new partners. Mine moved in with me and he knew about my medical history. He was not bothered that I could not give him a child as he already had one from a previous marriage. Two years later I realised that my period was late. I could not believe it and I was terrified as I had buried my feelings for my lost babies with my marriage. My boyfriend was convinced that I would not lose this baby as it was fathered by a different man. I dare not believe it could be true. I did not even visit my doctor for a test as I felt that I would be wasting my time anyway. It was not until I reached my ninth week that I began to believe that this pregnancy could continue to progress. I had never passed eight weeks before and I began to feel positive towards the baby. We both wanted it to be a little girl as he already had a boy and he chose a name for her. It was 'Tammy Marie' (Tammy, after his favourite country and western singer, Tammy Wynette). I began to knit and crochet and made an appointment to see my doctor on the Monday evening.
    It was Friday morning, at work that I first felt ill. I had a searing, constant pain in the left side of my lower abdomen and I felt very faint and sick. I had suffered morning sickness for a few days and I was pleased about it as it gave me an indication that my baby was developing in my womb. The pain grew worse and I was sent home from work. The manageress told me that she was sending my doctor to my home as soon as I left. She knew that I was pregnant and the pain was not normal. He was at my home within half an hour and I was lying on my bed in complete agony. He asked me straight away if I could be pregnant and I told him that I was certain that I was. I told him that I was nearly ten weeks and was due to see him on the Monday. He touched the site of my pain and immediately rang for an ambulance, telling them to come as quickly as possible. I heard the words 'ectopic pregnany' but I did not know what he meant. I was rushed out on a stretcher and found myself by the theatre doors in the hospital. I was quickly put in a theatre gown and a plastic hat covered my hair. I was given an injection and was oblivious to the next couple of hours or more. I awoke on the recovery ward in a lot of pain and was given an injection of morphine. It sent me back to sleep. I awoke in bed on a ward and a doctor told me that they had removed my left fallopian tube as I had a baby growing inside it. I was told that I was lucky to be alive and to thank my doctor for acting so quickly on his instincts. I lay there devastated. Why did it have to happen to me? I had a large wound across my lower abdomen with seven ugly stitches in it. I was allowed home after seven days with the reassurance that I could still conceive again in the future with my remaining tube. It had been examined in theatre and looked healthy.
    It was a while before I recovered, physically and mentally after my operation to remove my baby. No wonder I had not miscarried. I decided that enough was enough, I had nearly died through carrying that baby. I was horrified to find out that I was pregnant again exactly one year later, despite taking precautions! I was filled with dread every single day that passed by. I could not believe it when the same pain appeared, along with the feelings of dizziness after the seventh week. My new DR said my baby was not growing in my remaing tube, to just go home and rest. I went to the hospital a few days later after a pregnancy test proved positive as I was convinced that I was carrying a baby in my remaining fallopian tube. An ultrasound scan confirmed my worst fears and I was taken to theatre the very same day. I cried when I was told that I had lost my tube again with the baby. I was now sterile, barren, infertile. Never again would I take a pregnancy test and find it to be positive. Was that good or bad? I felt so confused and told the hospital gynaecologist who had performed my operation. He told me that I could consider a test-tube baby in the future. It made me feel a little better to know that I was still a woman somehow. I still could not understand why life had been so cruel to me though. I knew of women who had many unwanted babies or even abortions! I had lost fourteen babies in all. My relationship failed again and three years later I met another man, 'Gary' who had four children from his previous marriage but saw little of them as his ex-wife had moved away. We married after three years of being together.
    Four years after my last ectopic pregnancy, and two years before I remarried, at the age of thirty six, I had a hysterectomy. The surgeon removed my womb as I suffered severe cramps with my periods and had breakthrough bleeding occasionally too. It was classed as a major operation and I was afraid to have it done. The surgeons words cut through me like a knife before my operation; 'You can't have children in the future anyway so you might as well have your womb removed, it's no good to you.' It was the same man who had treated me for three years of infertility, removed my two ectopic pregnancies, expressed his sadness at my losses, and promised me that I could have a test-tube baby if I wished to in the future. He must have forgotten who I was. I realised I was just another hospital number, waiting in the queue for my operation.
    I awoke from the hysterectomy to be told that I had lost one of my ovaries too as the surgeon had found a large cyst inside it. It was a few years later that I realised that the cyst could have been the cause of my pain and bleeding. Had I lost my womb and womanhood for nothing?
    Since my hysterectomy I have suffered anxiety attacks. I take 'Hormone replacement therapy' pills every day. I no longer feel a complete woman. All I have left are bittersweet memories and my belief that there is a God in heaven. I have always been a Christian and I do believe that God took my babies for a reason. He must have other plans in life for me. If it were not for my strong belief in God then I do not know how I would cope with all that has happened in my life.
    My story has no happy ending for you readers, I am sorry to say, but I feel better for sharing it with others. I know there are many other women around the world who have lost babies and children; my heart goes out to them all. Please contact me if you wish.
    I have just finished writing a book about my life story as so much has happened to me over the years. In the meantime, I console myself with the babies that are continuing to be born in the family. I have been able to play a large part in their lives. I also love animals and I have two cats, one ten years old and the other four. I really spoil them both and treat them like real babies. The youngest cat even sleeps with his arms around my neck. My husband thinks that I am mad, but I think he understands why I am the way that I am. We have been married for just seven years now and I try to count my blessings for the things that I DO have in life, instead of dwelling in the past. I will never forget the babies that I have lost and I especially remember them Christmas mornings when I realise that I have never watched my children opening their presents. I unwrap the tins of salmon and tuna for my cats and watch them tuck in happily. I realise that my life really does have to carry on, and I always keep myself busy. One day, I will find the answers to my questions. That I am sure of. God bless you all for sharing these painful memories with me, and I wish you health and happiness in the future.

                                           Love Dawn

THIS IS ME IN 1998 WITH MY SISTER-IN-LAW'S CAT, 'MAX'

Sadly, Max went to Heaven June 11th 2003

Music ~If Tomorrow Never Comes~

MY STORY