At 28 weeks pregnant, I blissfully loved every moment of pregnancy. Having had 2 previous miscarriages, I was determined not to take any moment of the experience for granted.
There was nothing I treasured more than holding my hand to my belly and feeling my baby move. It was in these moments that I felt the most connected with my child. I would hold my hand in place, feeling his tiny movements, and talk to him. “Mummy’s right here, my darling” I would say. “Mummy’s got you”.
There was no way I could have known that my pregnancy was destined to come to an abrupt end.
At about 4am on the 30th December 2016, I woke up experiencing moderate pain in my upper abdomen. The pain, whilst not severe, was uncomfortable enough that I couldn’t get back to sleep. I tried changing positions, pacing around the house and having a shower but nothing I did could ease the pain.
After a few hours I woke up my husband and we decided to go to the GP. As we drove to the clinic and waited in the car park until it opened, I remember worrying that they were going to think that I was overreacting.
I described my abdominal pain to the unfamiliar GP and she checked my blood pressure, which was normal. She informed me that the pain was likely indigestion and I was told to go home and rest.
And yet something didn’t feel right. I couldn’t shake a sense of foreboding.