I am sitting here with tears flowing down my cheeks, as I just caught up with Coronation Street from Wednesday. I knew the scenes were going to be very real and very upsetting because the writing and acting is so good when it comes to stuff like this. But it truly has broken my heart all over again, as memories of my own baby loss flood back.
You can’t ever imagine how it feels – and I pray to God that you never do – but right there, on the screen as portrayed by Kym Marsh and Simon Gregson, was pretty much it. Heart breaking. Confusing. World shattering.
You wonder why the baby has passed, what you did wrong, what you ate that pregnant women shouldn’t, did you not take enough care of yourself, you’re too overweight to carry a baby…a whole list of guilt provoking questions pop into your head. For weeks, no months.
I didn’t have to go through labour, as our baby passed naturally in the 13th week of gestation, but that guilt, the self-loathing and self-questioning, the nightmare of having to tell people we lost the baby, the blur that was the aftermath, are all the same.
There are some women who can brush miscarriage off as “wasn’t meant to be”, “it’s so common”, “it wasn’t a proper baby” but I’m not one of those people and I refuse to sweep my loss under the carpet just because I wasn’t full term or had to labour.
We lost a baby, not a collection of cells.
Had we seen our much wanted second baby on the screen in our scan, rather than my empty womb, we’d have seen arms, legs, head and a podgy little tummy. Even as young as six weeks gestation, you can identify a baby in there so no, I don’t subscribe to the “not a proper baby” line of thinking.
The weeks after our loss were a fuzz. I felt so guilty, so incapable, so helpless. The support from Mr J was incredible, even though he was equally helpless as he had no idea how to help me through it – words, actions, nothing was ever going to be enough. And the family were amazing as ever but still couldn’t do anything to heal me, as I suffered with the guilt of my stupid empty womb rather than excitedly going shopping with for their grandchild and nephew.
All this was going on while still wanting to keep the biggest entertained and happy. That was so important to me, that she didn’t suffer because of mine. She must’ve known something had happened but I tried my best to keep my tears from her.
For months, pregnancy announcements killed me. I was, of course, happy for each and every one but wow, it hurt. Why could they fall pregnant so easily? Why wasn’t I so capable? I behaved badly at one friend’s announcement and then felt doubly guilty for doing so, especially as we then had a big argument over it (happy to say we’ve since made up).
So, for critics of soaps who say it’s depressing watching storylines like this, I say – get real. Soaps reflect real life. Women lose babies every single day and it is effing horrible. It’s not meant to be comfortable watching scenes like that because when you’re going through the heartbreak, it’s certainly the furthest away from comfortable you can be.
Love and light to all xxx