On February 23rd 2022, I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t quite believe it at first so I took a second test, then a third. I had so many emotions, I was terrified. I was only 19 and had no idea how my boyfriend was going to react, all I could do was cry. But I was so excited, I always wanted to be a mum and we’d spoken about kids all the time.

Days and weeks went by and we both got so excited. I’d downloaded pregnancy apps, obsessed with how big my baby was this week, we’d chosen names we wanted for both genders, we’d look at cots and prams we both liked. Even stuff we could get later on, ready to turn our spare bedroom into a nursery. Everything seemed perfect. I met my midwife for the first time when I was 10 weeks pregnant. She asked general questions about my health, what pregnancy vitamins I had been taking and what would happen from here. I remember her saying “you may think you’re young but 19-21 is such a good age to get pregnant, you’ll fly though it.” She put me at ease so much, I felt like I could finally start enjoying being pregnant.

On April 6th, I had my first scan, I was so excited to see my baby for the first time. I remember sitting in the waiting room with my boyfriend being unable to hide my excitement. I was finally called in and my scan started, it was so quiet until the sonographer asked how far along I thought I was, then asked when I found out I was pregnant. He told me he was struggling to find a heartbeat and asked to do an internal scan. I immediately started crying. I remember trying to hold in my sobs while he did the second scan. I still remember him saying “I’m really sorry Emma but your baby doesn’t have a heartbeat” so vividly it still hurts 6 months later. I was taken into another room with a student midwife where she gave me a photo of the scan, told me I was measuring just under 9 weeks and how I’d have to go for another scan next week to confirm everything I was told today.

5 days later, I started bleeding lightly. A part of me was relieved because I couldn’t bear being a coffin for my baby anymore. I assumed I was just going to have a heavy period, like everyone told me it’d be. At around 3:30am, I woke up with the worst pain I could ever imagine. No matter what position I was in there was excruciating pain. I ended up having to sit on the toilet because of how much blood there was and the shriek I let out when I felt my baby pass. I remember at around 6am when the pain starting to become tolerable I had to take a shower to wash all the blood off myself, I even had to mop the floor. My bathroom looked like a murder scene.

I felt stupid being so distraught. I was so young and I had lost my baby so early into pregnancy. I knew other women had it so much worse than me. I felt ashamed and like I did something wrong. I refused to see my mother, my partner’s parents, I even struggled to see my partner some days. I really expected to go back to everyday life after my miscarriage but it was far from. I wish miscarriages and the grieving process was spoken about more as it could save a lot of pain for so many women.