Today marks two weeks.
Today I am tired, I am achy and I have already cried.
Today I want to sleep forever but I can’t, life goes on, M needs me and the business is quite busy.
I hardly slept last night, the bloody fire alarm beeped all night, it’s main powered and was registering a fault. Incidentally the thing has stopped beeping now that OH needs to sleep as he is on nights.
So hardly any sleep, up at 6.30, getting am up with M, he is a delight in the mornings though (thank god!) greeting OH and feeling like crap.
I was in pain, he offered to go do the bar, which was a really lovely gesture but he needed to go to bed so it was a bit of a catch 22. I then made him feel like shit at my refusal and almost cried (I didn’t that time) he mumbled how he can never do anything right. I felt even worse then, but he really should go to bed! He’d worked a 12 hour night shift and had been up all day.
M and I went and opened the hall and got the bar delivery sorted. We’ve come home and I’m in agony. I have to work a 12 hour night shift tonight too.
I’ve been doing so well keeping it all together, today I’m failing miserably.
I cried when I got a text telling me my sister was poorly because she’d said she would babysit tomorrow evening as I’m also working tomorrow.
I just want to forget about boring mundane work stuff and sleep.


Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery…

Yesterday I busied myself with baking and cooking and cleaning. I managed to get through another day.
A week ago today at 3.43pm I started to bleed a little. It didn’t really concern me, I had a slight bleed when I was pregnant with M. I phoned the OH and told him, he told me not to panic, it was probably similar to what happened before. I carried on with work, the bleeding appeared to stop. I breathed a sigh of relief, until I got him.
It was back, not overly concerning, no real pain, I called NHS direct for advice they told me to call out of hours.
I called out of hours, they told me there wasn’t really a lot they could do with it being 8.30pm, if it was to get worse for whatever reason I was to go to A and E.
1.00am I woke and I knew. The pain was intensifying. I popped to the loo and it was red. Blood red. Fresh blood. I panicked, but I knew. By 6am I was in horrific pain, I had been awake most of the night, too afraid to wake the OH up. I must have dozed off because when I woke OH wasn’t there. I phoned him, I told him what was happening and he came home within the hour. Mum was called she was going to look after M. At 9.00am I passed a clot… I knew things weren’t going to end well. We got to A and E at 10.00am, by 10.20am I was seen and I’d passed another clot, this one was different though. The clot was my baby. It was gone. I was no longer pregnant. A long 3 hours took place on the ward and I was allowed home. Allowed home because I wasn’t pregnant and there was nothing that could be done.

It was all done and dusted, as easy as that.
Yesterday I stopped bleeding. It was all over. Physically it is all over.
Emotionally it isn’t, but physically it is.
It’s an odd thing. It’s an odd feeling. Today I wanting to go out and take M to the beach or to go play with his football. Today I want to get active and start working on my mental well being. Today is when I’m going to make a conscious effort to try feel better mentally.
Today will start with a trip to the doctors.
Today will start my recovery!


No more
All gone

I have stopped bleeding. It’s all done. All finished. All gone. 6 days. Done.
6 days I am not easily going to forget. 6 days that have ripped out my heart. 6 days of initial panic. Followed closely by realisation and heart ache.
6 days that changed my life.
6 days I do not want to repeat ever.
6 days that have changed me irreversibly.
6 days to be locked away in a little box.
6 days to be told I should appreciate what I have.
6 days. Done.


Trying… to attempt to do something.

I am attempting to get us organised. I am attempting to appear organised.

I am attempting to go an entire day without crying. So far, so good.

I have managed to send emails, and invoices and general business stuff. This really doesn’t require much effort does it? I mean, I sit in front of the laptop and I type niceties about Christmas fast approaching and what not. I come across cheery in my e-mails. Job done.

I have managed to go through the diary and prioritise what is important and needs my immediate attention.

I have cleaned the bathroom, I have washed, dressed and fed M.

I have put the bins out.

I am now having a cup of tea. I am trying to be normal. I am trying to be Emily. I am trying to be Emily before loosing my baby. I am trying to be Emily before the nightmares. I am trying to be Emily.

I am not doing a very good job as far as I am concerned.

I am fearful the OH is getting tired of my crying, this probably isn’t the case but I am fearful non the less.

I told him I wanted to start my exercise now. I need to do something, he told me not yet. He told me I need to allow my body to heal physically, but what if my mental well being needs it?

If I listen to my body, I know the OH is right.  I know I need to hold out a bit longer.

I had an email today, you know those types of emails you sign up to when you’re all joyous and excited about becoming a mum again, the type of ‘You’re baby is currently the size of *insert fruit*’

It was a kick in the gut. It was a reminder that I didn’t need. I know I am not carrying a child anymore, I have never felt so empty. The sickness has gone, the nice heavy feeling of my uterus has gone. It’s all gone. I am trying. I really am trying. I am going to have to see people on Saturday when I go to work, and then on Sunday when I partake on a course I agreed to do ages ago. I am going to have to see people and laugh and pretend everything is a okay when we go to a Christmas party. I can’t exactly open with… ‘Oh me? Oh, yes I am fine, had a miscarriage the other week but yup, fine and bloody dandy here’. Doesn’t befit social convention.

I have a few friends I have told, some have responded by showing me utmost love and patience and genuine loving concern, then there are the few that appear to be treating me like a leaper. I suppose it’s the not knowing what to say that makes people act this way. It’s a shame that miscarriage isn’t a very spoken about subject, it’s no wonder you feel crushingly alone at times when you don’t even think it’s okay to broach the subject in an open way.

Anyways, I am trying. Trying hard. Too hard? Possibly… Only time will tell.

Wanting company

I’ve been craving company, I’ve not been coping on my own.
I had company. I didn’t particularly cope very well in company either. It wasn’t any ordinary company either, it was family. My wonderful, caring, supportive family.
I struggled. I had to concentrate to hard on conversations. I had to act normal.
It was tough.
When will it get easier? When will I stop feeling so bad? Why is it, today seemed a good day, I woke up and felt happy, then I remember. I’m not pregnant anymore. I don’t feel pregnant anymore. I’m empty. Then today became another day or feeling hurt and upset. Another day of me trying to appreciate what I have instead of dreaming about what could have…


I’m somber today.
I have a thumping headache, I’m beyond tired… I’m feeling empty.
I’ve had more blood taken today. I didn’t get seen by a doctor and the nurses weren’t as nice as the other day. Or they didn’t seem to be, to me anyway. I suppose why should they? The event has happened.
The weather today is glorious though. The frost was beautiful this morning and the sun was shining.
I’ve been for a walk, I have managed to do shopping, I have cleaned parts of the house and I’m cleaning the oven. I’m probably avoiding feelings, but I’m home alone and don’t want to dwell too much.
I’m going to heal and I’m going to get better, I’m going to go for a run once I’ve healed and I’m going to take some positives from this dire, horrible, upsetting situation.
Bare with me please. I will do this.


Adrenalin… I am a raging bag of adrenalin today. I have so much I am shaking.

Anger is turning in to adrenalin. I want to run, I want to go boxing, I want to scream!!!

I am hurt, I am hurting, I am so ******* cross!! I can’t help it. I am seething red. If you could see my aura it would be deep blood red.

Deep blood red…. rather ******* symbolic.

Thing is, I can’t run, I can’t go kick and punch a bloody punching bag because I have to let myself ******* heal.

I have to heal. I have to let the scars die down. It’s still very raw.

I am pissed off at so many different people.

I am pissed off at myself. I want to run away. I want to hide. I want to run until I can’t physically run anymore and I am crumbled heap. I want to run out the hurt, the pain, the anger, the frustration, the blame.
I want this feeling of adrenalin to do one! I don’t want to be shaking with anger or as I am calling it, adrenalin. I don’t want to get angry and bite back on the phone. I want to be normal, I want to be Emily. I want to be myself again. I feel so bloody empty. So empty. My life isn’t empty. Yet…. I want to run away.

I don’t want to cry angry, burning, scolding tears. I want to be happy, I want to be joyous, I want happy endorphins, but I am not even allowed those at the moment.

I wanted this baby. Now, sweet pea is no more.