The Begining of the Break: Part 1.

Adele’s touching speech at the Grammys yesterday, hit my heart. My life space.

She spoke of losing herself after she had children. Of how tough it was to go through that. And that her most recent album was a way to recover herself. To transform.

So me. I was touched. And I wanted to share my break.

She going to get all out there with this one.

She going to hit the topic that, when felt deeply, well, it can sting. In a lot of ways.

The whole reason that this website exists is because I had children.

The whole reason I do what I do now is because I had children.

The reason I have some of the most soul connected friends I have, is because I had children.

But having children was so suck arse for me in the early days!

Having children absolutely sucked arse for me in the beginning. It bit so hard. So hard Β that I was sure I was breaking.

And on reflection, I think I did.

I did break.

Those of you who know my story, know that I was dropped into the new would of parenting at like full speed. A

In Feb 2005 I was pregnant. In March 2005, I was not.

In April 2005 I was pregnant again.

Within 3 months I rode the upward journey on the rollercoaster of elation to be pregnant with a baby. A little baby that my partner and I had created all by ourselves, somehow.

We rode the fast decent on the rollercoaster when we learned that our little baby didn’t actually have a heart beat.

“It’s totally common” they said. “1 in 4 pregnancies end like this”. “At least you can fall pregnant”, I was told.

Well fuck. Yes, but I lost our little baby!

6 weeks later, those same symptoms I had experienced the first time came back. Could I be pregnant already?

Yes.

And up goes the rollercoaster.

I decide that I would leave my job that I had to travel over 2 and half hours each day in the car to get to and from. A tough decision. But I wanted a healthy baby, and I could start again after the baby.

6 weeks later, a visit to the loo left me in fragments again. Blood. So much blood. Blood you just do not want to see when you are pregnant.

Fuck.

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And the rollercoaster heads south again and I just wanted the fuck off it. This is not fun.

I call the doctor and say I am not coming in for my scan, “I’ve lost another baby, I sob”!

Gently, the receptionist reassures me and we venture in.

Rollercoaster off the rails.

I don’t want to look at that fucking screen again and see no heart beat. I’d rather not thank you very much.

Again, gently lead, I lay down. Not breathing. Not looking. Not really there.

The gel. The scan.The wooshy sounds.

I still can’t breathe.

And then I hear it.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. A whoosh that I knew was a little heart.

In inhale deeply and turned my head to see a little thing on the screen and a little flicker happening inside it.

“It’s alive?” I say through the tears?

“Yes, you have a baby in there for sure”.

And the tears fell. The relief. The rollercoaster back on the rails and slowly moving forward, ever so slowly.

Dr B keeps exploring the space where the baby lives.

Silent.

Intrigued.

I could feel something else was there.

I looked intently with him.

“There is something else I can see in your uterus with the baby. I’ll need to send you off for a more accurate scan”.

What do you mean something else? What the fuck do you mean?

Not another baby?

Then what the fuck?

And off we go for the next scan.

At this point, I am so out of the rollercoaster. Off it. No more play thanks! Fuck it. I am not feeling any more of this shit.

And numb.

The scan revealed that I had this thing called a sub-chorionic-heamatoma. This is what it looks like.

Basically, I had a bruise in my uterus.

A bruise that would grow as the uterus stretched and could in fact rupture and if it did, would take the baby with it.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Right.

Ok.

So, I did what I always had done. I just got on with life…all the while stressing so big that I was going to lose Β my baby.

Every time I went to the toilet there was blood. Lots of blood. A thing that as a pregnant women just doesn’t make sense to the brain. It sees danger. It sees bad shit. It sees, something is going to go wrong here.

And I pushed the fear, the terror, the sadness aside and I got on with it.

My partner and I were planning a wedding, building a house. I had to get on with it.

And get on with it I did…and it isn’t until later, the truth of the experience bubbled up…and when it did….I was sure I was breaking…..

[see you next week for part 2]

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