Saturday, 2 April 2016

The storm continues

It may sound strange to say, but the scan I had on Wednesday which confirmed that we had lost our little one was the loveliest scan I have had so far.

I went to my GP in the morning, following our last scan with the specialist and she was horrified to hear what had been happening since I last saw her. (I should also add, she was fully booked but when I said what was happening she made a point of seeing me during her break time)

She immediately rang a private scan centre nearby and asked if they could squeeze me in, they told me to come down asap. My doctor also suggested that I should go straight there, not wait until hubby was off work the next day. It meant going alone, which we both hated, but there was no choice as he couldn't get anyone to replace him at work (more on that another day).

Thankfully, there was only one other couple waiting and they were gone almost immediately, so I didn't have to listen to their excited conversation. My doctor had made a point of letting them know that it was a suspected miscarriage, I didn't want some poor tech to be traumatised by the thought of giving me bad news. As much as I was hoping for the best, we were prepared for the worst.

She was so patient and kind, asking questions about my health and the pregnancy. When she was doing the scan, she explained everything that she was doing and took multiple measurements. She pointed out to me on the screen all the things she was looking at and looking for. She didn't just stop at looking for a heartbeat, she also looked for blood flow. She measured our little baby from different angles and gave us a better idea of when baby had stopped growing. I can't adequately express the calm, peace and empathy the lovely tech conveyed.

As she packed up and went to call my doctor with the report, she handed me a little print out of the clearest image she had managed to get. That's when I finally gave in to my grief. They even asked if they could take me out the back for a cup of tea so I didn't have to wait in the main waiting room. Just so kind and considerate. They even did the scan free of charge which was completely unexpected.

I went straight to hubby's work and we looked at our little photo and cried together. I just wish he had been able to come, he's still pretty traumatised by how we were treated at the previous scan and I think it would have eased him a little.

Five pregnancies and five losses seems almost too much to bear. But we will. Somehow.


  1. So very sorry to hear of your loss Bron, I've been hoping against hope for you. I'm pleased that you had a much better experience at this private scanning place - just goes to show what a world of difference a bit of sensitivity and compassion can do. xxxxx

  2. So sorry Bron, i was hoping this would be your happy pregnancy story :(