Monday, 8 June 2015


My blog posts of late were all a mish mash of the grind of the final throes of thesis writing, and my excitement regarding going overseas, and some brags about my crossfit exploits.

They were hiding something more important, more exciting.

About 6 weeks ago, when I was thinking of what I would do with my pimply skin, and considering some definitive treatment, I had to have a pregnancy test.

It was positive.

Shock gave way to joy. Joy like I had never felt before. I walked around with a big dopey smile on my face. I was excited about having a baby close to my sister (she is having a little girl, squeeee)

I was so well. Full of energy. No nausea to speak of. Food tasted good. I didn't even miss wine that much. My mood was good, no doubt the pregnancy hormones agreed with me. I was enjoying it.

The only thing that was annoying was the fact that I had to go piddle every two seconds. I still did my running and jumping, being careful to empty my bladder before. I reveled in my wellness.

Among the joy of it, I felt vulnerable in a way that I never had before. Aware of how open to twists of fate I was. I felt sometimes a bit like a precious, breakable vessel, an unfamiliar feeling. The love within my heart expanded to a tenderly heartbreaking level, and I felt acutely grateful for the people I had around me, especially my partner.

As a break from my thesis, I would trawl the literature on pregnancy. There are a lot of beliefs about what is bad in pregnancy, and I was trying to get a feel for the facts. I became well appraised of what the risks of coffee, wine, cheese and diet soft drinks. I had also started to look at stretchy garments. I had been a conscientious objector to Jeggings, but had overcome this because by Gosh, they are comfy.

A week and a bit ago, we went to see the obstetrician. We had the viability scan. A small, healthy little blob with a heartbeat. Miscarriage rate down to 10% or less at that point.

The little blob with the heartbeat had a lot of hopes and dreams attached to it. It's natural.

I spent all weekend working on my thesis, so going back to work this morning was almost a break.
I had been feeling a bit dizzy, nothing out of the ordinary, and a twinge in my lower abdomen. Happens.

At work this morning, I had some bleeding. I told my co-workers and burst into tears.

An ultrasound was arranged. The secretary at the ultrasound centre, sensitive to the situation, offered to sit me in the quiet room. I declined, tough. I sat and read old magazines.

The scan showed an outline similar to what I understood from the "what to expect" websites. Except this time it was amorphous. There was no heartbeat, and I was informed that the fetus had stopped growing.  The obstetrician came in and confirmed that I had miscarried.

There is no anger, just sadness. Gratitude and hope too. Efforts not to fall down the rabbit hole of how I could've done something to avoid this, knowing intellectually there was something beyond my control.

I just have to feel the feels, and let the tears come as they need to. The only way out is through. We will get there.


  1. Oh C,
    You are a stronger and better woman than I for not feeling that anger.

    Take care of yourself.

    SSG xxx

  2. Cilla my heart breaks for you. Sending lots of love and good vibes your way.

  3. Cilla, I am so, so sorry.... First visit to blogland for ages and what a bloody awful thing. I've been where you are and all I can say is that time helps, but I know that won't help at all at this point.
    Huge hugs and lots of love xxxx

    1. Actually the fact that I know plenty of women that have miscarried that have gone on to have beautiful healthy children really does help, so thankyou x

    2. Sending love and thinking of you Cilla. So very sorry - love your honesty and first your Insta re autism on the weekend and now this post have me very emotional. Take care Leigh x

  4. Oh my dear, I don't know you (though I also live in Melbourne) but I've been through a similar disappointment. The grief of laying side the dreams is real, even though one had only just begun to think about what the new life might mean. But oh, what about Barcelona? Will you be up to travelling or do you have to submit to a D & C first?

    1. Will be having D&C tomorrow, should be all recovered to go to BCN on Sunday (Bloody hell will go even if leg falling off)t
      thanks for your comment x

    2. I'll keep you in my thoughts tomorrow.
      My next conception went fine and I eventually gave birth 2 months short of my 39th birthday. Here's a post to whet your appetite for Barcelona: (no, that's not my blog, but I was reading it soon after yours). Very best wishes for your trip.

  5. Cilla, I am very sad. I drew an excited breath at first. Can you understand if I say you are one step closer? Is that an okay thing to say? Thank you for letting us know. I have been thinking about how you were going. I consider I know you both via the net and in person, given we did enjoy that lunch and walk around together on your home turf and I really do care about your well-bring, dear Cilla. Keep us in the loop. Xx

    1. M, yes it is totally an ok thing to say. My partner and I are of better vintage (me >35) and we knew even getting knocked up might've been a challenge, and it wasn't. It remains a comfort that it happened, even if it wasn't to be this time. Thanks for your love, means a lot. x

  6. Oh sweetheart I am so sorry. I hate hate hate looking at that stupid screen and no heartbeat- for my pregnancy with O I never looked at the screen til they said there was one.

    You will have a baby- your body is capable and that little soul proved it.

    Was so happy reading this post and then sad and thinking of you.

    You will be a mother and sooner than you think. Massive hug xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

  7. I read your entry with such excitement for you.. I'm so very sorry. I had two very early miscarriages and have friends that had to go the D&C route. It's not easy. Hugs to you, hope you have a wonderful break in Barcelona to clear all the stresses of the thesis and m/c and know that lots of us out there are wishing you all the very best and certain that the outcome will be a happy one in the end xxx.

  8. I don't know what to say except for I am very sorry to hear this. I hope you use Barcelona as a good break and refresher and things work out very soon xx

  9. I am so sorry Cilla.

    And there was something beyond your control.

    Fromt the minute you think about trying to be a mother you have to put your heart on the line.

    Thinking of you.


  10. I am so sorry Cilla (((hugs)))

  11. Thanks FF, H, N, T, A and K
    Reading these has given me lots of comfort.
    T, you are right about the heart being on the line.
    c xx

  12. Dear lady, I have only just now read your blog and don't know what to say, only that my heart breaks for you. I hope Barcelona is magical and you will return refreshed and good. A break away is very restorative. Sending you hugs.