Tomorrow is D-Day. The due date of the baby we were having, but aren’t anymore.
The early scan we had at 7 weeks put us back a little, giving us a due date of 17th May, but by dates our baby would have been due on the 10th May- tomorrow.
Of course, in reality s/he would have come whenever s/he wanted, but if previous pregnancies are anything to go by (and I’m aware they’re not a guarantee!) then I tend to pop my babies out in the 38th week, so chances are we would have a brand new baby already.
I’m not sure how I feel about that, to be honest. Nor am I sure how I’m supposed to feel about that, or what to do about it, even if I could figure out what my feelings are on it all.
Which makes this a somewhat pointless blog post. But I just wanted to acknowledge the significance of tomorrow, and the fact that it actually happened in the first place.
In August I peed on a stick, and found out I was pregnant…the same day I was diagnosed with Guillain-Barre Syndrome. And here’s the proof, sat atop a copy of Juno magazine, which Chris had brought me to read in the hospital:
In September, there was an actual baby inside of me, with a heart beat of around 148bpm:
And then I was scanned again at what should have been 10 weeks and there wasn’t.
Later of course we found out that the pregnancy had been ‘doomed’ from the start, as it was a Molar Pregnancy, meaning there was an extra set of chromosomes and our baby was incompatible with life.
Does that make the whole thing better, or worse? Should it make me feel better? Or worse? I don’t know. I am still sending urine samples to Sheffield Centre for Trophoblastic Disease to monitor my HCG levels and ensure there isn’t any molar tissue left in my uterus, so I have to say I’m inclined to say that the Molar aspect is scant comfort if any.
This isn’t my first rodeo of course, having had two previous miscarriages, but I have never been in this position before, as with each of those, I was already (heavily) pregnant again by the time the “Would have been due dates” rolled around.
You never forget them though. It’s so weird. My first pregnancy I worked out I would have been due on October 21st 2009…but it wasn’t to be. By the time October came though, I was waddling around with an almost full-term baby inside me, who turned out to be Toby. So although I remember recognising the day quietly to myself, it wasn’t with sadness as I was focused on the baby I was carrying, whose life wouldn’t have been possible if I hadn’t miscarried.
Likewise, my 3rd pregnancy had a due date of 20th July 2011, although as it was a twin pregnancy, it likely would have been moved forward anyway. Again, it wasn’t to be, although by the time the summer came, I was pregnant with Rudy and again, felt thankful for how things had worked out.
This time, the due-date is almost upon me, and not only am I not pregnant for a change, but I’m not even planning to be. Which makes this a very different situation to the other two, and probably explains my whirlwind of thoughts and emotions on the issue.
I haven’t really reached out to talk to anyone about my experiences, if I’m honest (well, apart from the handful of you reading this I guess!) but if anyone out there stumbles across this and does want some support then The Miscarriage Association is a good place to try. And for those affected by Molar Pregnancy, you can click here to visit the Molar Pregnancy UK site.
As for me, I have a feeling that tomorrow will be a bit of a Sliding Doors experience (you know, that 90’s film with Gwyneth Paltrow?) as I go about my normal day-to-day life with Chris and the boys, acutely aware of what might have been instead.