"Missed miscarriage"

Last October, around Halloween, I went for my first booking appointment for a pregnancy. This was very much a planned, wanted pregnancy. I am a lesbian and decided to have a child in a coparenting situation with a very close gay male friend. I had been having some really bad back pain, a lot of watery discharge and cramps which I brought up with the midwife but they said it was normal. I wanted to talk about mental health and stress, as my baby’s father was rushed to hospital with an aneurysm in his bowel a week earlier and was still very unwell. Another member of staff walked in the room when I was about to disclose that I was having suicidal thoughts so I didn’t continue any further. I left feeling more confused than when I went in. I should also add that I was late for my first booking appointment despite the fact that I had tried to book it on the day that I was eligible. 

My next appointment was for my 12 week scan. I hadn’t been told to bring my notes with me so between that and pregnancy forgetfulness, I didn’t bring them. The midwife at reception looked at me then walked away before returning 10 minutes later and accused me of being late and threatened not to do my scan. The sonographer also threatened not to do the scan after finding out that I forgot my notes. As the title suggests, they did do the scan and I found out that I’d had a missed miscarriage at 9 weeks. Devastated was not the word. I did appreciate that they told me quickly. I decided very quickly that the only acceptable option for me was to surgically manage the miscarriage. However, they told me that it would be impossible for me to have the surgery due to covid. This was completely untrue as EPU offered it to me immediately once I spoke to them the following day. This caused unnecessary stress during what was an already terrible time. They also kept the picture of the baby up on the giant TV right in front of me for an unnecessarily long time. I am still haunted by the image of my lifeless baby on a screen that I could not look away from. Despite being only 9 weeks, it very much looked like a baby. After being given a leaflet, they apologised and said that we needed to leave to scan someone else. They walked us to a quiet room so I could compose myself before leaving. However, the route to the quiet room meant walking back through reception which was full of pregnant women who were about to have their scans. The looks of pity and terror that they gave me as I walked through the room is not one that I’ll forget in a very long time. Once in the quiet room, they apologised again, got us a glass of water each and left. We never saw her again and we left of our own accord half an hour later. 

My experiences with EPU at RSCH and the gynae ward at Princess Royal were overwhelmingly positive. The members of staff are amazingly kind, compassionate and thoughtful. Nothing is too much trouble. It’s a shame however that the same level of care does not seem to exist in midwifery. 

I am still not pregnant and we have not tried again. I believe that I may have PTSD from the whole experience. I am on antidepressants and often have thoughts of hurting myself. There was no formal follow up care. I sought help from my GP who first prescribed me a weeks worth of Ambien, then put me on Fluoxetine, which I still take. I was not offered any kind of counselling.