This is not the post I thought I would be writing today. I started one on breastfeeding and our journey of almost two and half years. I’ll share that later in honour of World Breastfeeding Week but right now I need to write this. I also didn’t expect to share this so early on, but I feel it’s right for me.

Today is exactly two weeks since I miscarried. In many ways, it feels like it’s been much longer and some days I almost forget and stop myself before I eat or drink certain things that I had given up on since finding out about the pregnancy three months ago.

I was 12 weeks and 2 days. A time when you would most likely feel ‘safe’ that things are going to be okay. The bleeding that had started the week before was a warning sign and it turned out to be the worst of its kind. What is two weeks? For those who know what I’m going through, who have been there before me, it is nothing. They kindly and knowingly tell me to rest, to look after myself, to give myself a break. For others, who I know still care and want what is best for me they seem to expect me to be okay, to carry on as normal. To move forward. To be happy.

I have so much to be grateful for in life, I know that. Though it does not make this any easier. I’ve had good moments though. I can find happiness. I have a lot of love in my life. Caspian has without even knowing it been a huge comfort through these dark days and for his sake, I have tried to be strong and looked for the little joys. I’ve been surprised at the number of women who have confessed to having a miscarriage and I’ve realised that it is important to talk more openly about this very difficult and personal subject. No two experiences are the same but I found myself looking for advice and guidance from others, especially online, who have been in a similar situation. I hope that by sharing my journey it can help other women.


There are so many things you are not prepared for when you suffer a miscarriage. The thing is I wouldn’t want anyone to prepare themselves for this, for the worst. Pregnancy is a beautiful and happy time, morning sickness and swollen feet aside, and you cannot let anxiety and dark thoughts overcloud that. As soon as you see those two lines appear you not only form a bond but you start to plan. Anyone who is expecting should revel in that joy, embrace that happiness.

If I’m truly honest, though, a part of me probably knew before the bleeding started. In the moment I might not have been able to identify why, but finding out that our baby had stopped growing at around 8 weeks meant that things must have been changing from there onwards. It took my body a long time to catch up but in retrospect, I think my subconscious might have had an inkling as I wasn’t feeling that happiness 100%. I brushed it aside though, as I know that pregnancy hormones can do strange things to you.


Because of the bleeding, we were sent for a scan at the Early Pregnancy Unit five days prior to our scheduled dating scan. As soon as I saw the sonographer’s face as she put the probe on my belly I knew. I knew things were not as they should be. She sent me out to empty my bladder as she wanted to try an internal scan, though this simply proved what she – and now I – already suspected. You feel lost, you feel sad, you feel confused. You take a deep breath and squeeze your partner’s hand as you hold back the tears.

After talking with the doctor we decided to let my body carry on as the bleeding suggested the miscarriage had already started naturally. That afternoon it got heavier and the cramping began as well. On Thursday morning it had slowed down again. We went to do a food shop and the walking must have kick-started everything again. That afternoon and evening I’ll never forget. You are somehow not prepared for it, it was not how it was meant to go.

Friday morning it was over, I said hello and goodbye that day.

The following days the bleeding was very intense. Sunday was emotionally probably the hardest day. I felt crushed. I was most surprised by how sore my body felt. It was literally like I had been beaten up, run over and caught the flu all at the same time. After researching online I discovered that the cervix is connected to many of the larger nerves and it would explain the aches I felt in my legs, arms and back. They have since subsided leaving only the pain in my heart.

So here I am two weeks after our miscarriage. I miss being pregnant, I miss the happiness, the planning and the excitement. I’m realising that I still need to take things one day at a time. Some will be good days and others, like today, will be harder.

If this post has affected you, you are always welcome to contact me in private. I don’t have all the answers but I’m always here to listen. Though as I’m not a medical professional I always encourage you to seek help from your GP if you have any concerns. 


  1. Sending my love to you Nadia, it sounds an absolutely horrendous thing to go through. So brave. I’m glad you are giving yourself the time to grieve. Well done for speaking up and sharing your story. It will no doubt help other mums in future going through a similar experience. Much love x

  2. Thankyou for sharing this, I had the same experience around 6 weeks ago, we found out at our 12 week scan we’d bad a missed miscarriage. I know writing about it will be a cathartic experience but I haven’t yet as i’m worried I won’t have the words. Sending f lots of love to you xx

  3. I haven’t miscarried luckily (but had different kinds of problems, such as tumours, hard to get pregnant etc). I was just reading and wondering how women cope with this as it was something that terrified me during my pregnancy as I just didn’t trust my body could carry it to term knowing my previous problems. Fortunately I did. I am going through grief at the moment (lost my father almost a year ago to a horrendous accident). Every grief is different, of course, but in the end I think it’s still grief for some form of loss – hard work to come to terms with. Much love xx

  4. I’ve just stumbled across your blog tonight and started reading. I could have written this post 18 months ago. I was 11 weeks 6 when we found out and counting down to that first scan, starting to feel safe. It’s such a difficult thing to go through and yet so common – I too was amazed by the number of people who had been through miscarriage when I mentioned mine.

    Nothing will ever take that sense of loss away, but the pain of it will diminish. Be kind to yourself and definitely focus on your beautiful boy – I found my then 3 year old twins my lifeline on more difficult days, they offer so much joy.

    A total stranger I know, but sending my best wishes to you never the less. x

  5. You are such a strong person for sharing this, I can almost guarantee you will have helped someone immensely with this post, even if they do not reach out to you. I have no words for you, I don’t think anything I say will be right, but I am sending so much love to you and your family right now.

  6. I am so sorry you dealt with all that x I had an extremely early miscarriage, so early that they didnt even class me as pregnant when I went into A and E bleeding, it was a Chemical Pregnancy, which i learnt afterwards was an extremely common thing,

    you are very brave in sharing all this x

    1. Thank you, Sarah. I, unfortunately, think it’s still very taboo but with 20% of all pregnancies ending in miscarriage I do believe it’s important to talk about it. xxx

  7. You are so strong for sharing yours and your baby’s story. This will help so many women, thank you. All my love sweetheart.

    When I lost my baby I found comfort in this poem, I’m unsure who it is by but I hope that by sharing it with you, you might feel the same comfort I did –

    The world may never notice
    If a Snowdrop doesn’t bloom
    Or even pause to wonder
    If the petals fall too soon.

    But every life that ever forms
    Or ever comes to be,
    Touches the world in some small way
    For all eternity.

    The little one we long for,
    Was swiftly here and gone
    But the love that was then planted
    Is a light that still shines on.

    And though our arms are empty
    Our hearts know what to do
    Every beating of our hearts
    Says that we love you.


  8. There is nothing I can say to make it any better, just that I’m thinking of you and your family at this difficult time. Allow yourselves to grieve and have time for each other x

  9. No words are enough to say how sorry I am for your loss. Huge hugs and sending love xx

  10. Thank you for writing this. I have never experienced a miscarriage and have no idea how awful it must be. Somehow I never thought of the physical pain, I understood the heart break but you have opened my eyes. Thankyou and my thoughts with you and your family.

    1. Thank you for saying that Sally. I really hope it can help others, whether they have experienced it themselves or are simply looking to support others. x

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