My 3 Angel Babies

My heart is in conflict. I have 2 beautiful, healthy girls who I adore. And now I also have 3 angel babies, born to heaven at 6.5weeks gestation.

After a week of some very odd symptoms, including a bad sore throat, chills, nausea and even bad thrush, my husband convinced me to do a pregnancy test. He arrived home a little earlier than usual that Monday night, and I quickly did the test. A very strong positive. I walked into the living room and all I could do was show the test to my husband and girls. My older one knew exactly what it meant (not sure how) and started jumping around. My husband told her, "Do you know there's a new baby in Mummy's tummy?" to which she replied "Oh yes, I already knew that. But Bubs, it's not one baby. There are 2 babies - a girl and a boy, and their names are Mark and Lara." We both stared at her for a while but simply brushed it off.

I was so excited that we decided to tell immediate family right away. Everyone was obviously thrilled.

The next day, as I was dressing, I realised that my trousers had been fitting tighter than usual over the past few days but today they could barely close. I switched to leggings and took my kids to their toddler class. Half way through the class, another mummy approached me quietly and asked if I was pregnant. She said it looked like I had a baby bump. I admitted that I was but that it was still early days. She congratulated me and it started to feel real.

On Thursday I noticed one bright spot of blood but I put it down to either some breakthrough bleeding or early-day spotting. I had a doctor's appointment the next day as I was concerned about the thrush and he suggested we try to do a dating ultrasound as I wasn't sure of dates. He said I was likely between 4 and 5 weeks along, and couldn't be sure of what he was seeing. He pointed out 2 dark spots, one slightly larger than the other, and said that either one could be the pregnancy. I mentioned the spotting but he said to just wait it out. My heart was a little flat that he did not say twins as every time I thought about the pregnancy, I was thinking in twos. I tried not to, but my brain would not budge on what it was trying to tell me.

That evening, I spotted some more, and then again Saturday. I spoke to the midwife who suggested taking a drug called Duphaston which helps with the progesterone levels and controls bleeding in pregnancy. So I started on minimal dose immediately. The spotting carried on and increased slightly. By Monday, the spotting was still the same, so I opted to go for another ultrasound. I was told I had a pregnancy consistent with 5 weeks and 1 day. That there was a gestational sac and another, smaller object that looked like a gestational sac too. However, I was told it is unlikely it is twins and the second smaller object was likely a blood clot or just a blip.

By Tuesday I could not longer wear my normal underwear. I had to fish out my earl-maternity stuff. With my first this happened at 10 weeks. With my second it happened at around 9 weeks. I was shocked that at 5 weeks I already needed maternity-wear...but my head would immediately quip, "Well what do you expect with 2?" Again I brushed it aside.

On Wednesday I managed to get an appointment with a doctor I had been meaning to interview. I was given an appointment for the following Monday, but again a voice told me "Monday will be too late". However, an earlier appointment was not available either with the new or usual doctor. I called the midwife and she suggested increasing the dose of my medication. When my older daughter came home from school, I told her that I think the babies are needed in Heaven and that we need to pray. She was visibly upset and kept saying they were so sweet already. She said she loved them so much and had already gotten used to having them around. She didn't want them to go to Heaven. I explained that sometimes Jesus needs some extra help and that babies make the perfect angels. She got angry and said "but why our babies?" I told her that Jesus wants us to have special angels in heaven because Uncle Mark is not managing on his own. She finally calmed down but remained so upset.

Thursday was a lovely day as I was to be GodMother to my beautiful new niece. I was so excited but not feeling well at all. I had a sinking feeling I could not shake. I was feeling drained and scared but tried so hard to brush it off. The ceremony was lovely. I was so proud. We had a little chat with the priest after and my older daughter wanted to be Blessed. So I asked him to Bless both girls and then got an urge to ask him to Bless my belly. He asked when I was due and I replied "At this point it is very God-willing that we have a new arrival in June". He Blessed my little bump and I felt my sadness grow. I guess I knew right then that the babies were no more. During the little family part after, I visited the bathroom and noticed that the blood had changed. It was dark red, angry and no longer "spotting". I didn't say anything at that point. I silently wished that I could miscarry in peace and completely naturally. I hoped I'd have something tangible to say goodbye to.

By Friday I was feeling quite ill and bleeding on and off, similar to a light period. As I did not have any childcare available I decided to stay in and entertain the kids as best I could. My husband brought home a lovely Chinese takeaway that I had been craving for a week and the kids had a blast experimenting with this new food.

Saturday was a horrible day. I received 2 phonecalls from friends requiring post-partum support and didn't realise I spent the time pacing. When I hung up, I almost fainted. It was a beautiful day and my husband really wanted to take the kids to the new National Aquarium, so after getting a 45 minute nap, off we went. I was cramping horribly all morning, and the cramps kept increasing. At the Aquarium, I could barely stand and spent the whole visit searching for my next seat. I visited the bathroom and the tell-tale blood clots had started. I decided to plough on.

Sunday I woke up to increased blood and horrible cramps. I had no choice but to spend most of the day in bed. My husband took the children out for the afternoon and kept sending pictures to show they were enjoying themselves. I was feeling numb and miserable, and every picture made me want to pick myself up, brush aside what was happening and join them - but I could barely walk to the toilet without another strong cramp hitting. My appointment couldn't come soon enough.

Monday morning, bright and early, I dropped my little one off at my mother in law and headed to the new doctor. Unfortunately, he was running late and I spent well over an hour and a half waiting for him. During this time I made several bathroom trips and just kept feeling worse and worse. There was a huge fullness in my belly that wasn't allowing me to hold my urine without pain, and I was worried there would not be enough for the ultrasound. Finally it was my turn. The doctor was lovely and definitely one I would choose to return to. We had a good chat about many things: my traumatic first birth, my healing water-vbac, my birth rights activism, the future of maternity services, and then he told me about his wife's miscarriage. He described the flowers he saw that day, and how blue to sky was. He told about how devastating and desperate it feels. We finally did the ultrasound and he told me that the miscarriage was almost complete. The placenta was sitting on top of the cervix, blocking the passage of blood, so he warned me not to be shocked if I bleed heavily right after passing the placenta. He expected that it would happen within the next few hours, couple of days max.

I went to pick up my daughter and started bleeding heavily, passing a large blood clot. I assumed that this was the "placenta", maybe it looks different this early on. So I expected to bleed for a little while, 2 to 3 days maybe and then be able to start moving on. I was upset about not having something tangible but tried hard to accept it. The cramps were also subsiding, which was a relief. When my older got home from school, I explained that the baby had gone to Heaven with Jesus. Mummy had been unwell over the weekend, and that made the baby not strong enough to keep to be happy in this world. So Jesus took him to Heaven to be an angel for a little while. We agreed to pray that maybe one day he might be strong enough to join us in our family again, but for now Jesus and Uncle Mark will look after him in Heaven. She asked if both babies had gone, and I said yes. Then we headed to the garden centre and she chose a Bonsai to look after in memory of our angel babies in Heaven. There were lots of tears for both of us.

The next day I held a Momma Trauma Sacred Circle at my house. One mother left to pick up her son at noon, but the other was enjoying the like-minded company and stayed on. I started feeling spaced out and getting huge contractions. I had to politely ask the mother to leave after a while as I was in so much pain and feeling as if I was gushing blood. I saw her out and then rushed to the bathroom. I felt a heaviness and the need to bear down. So I grabbed a tissue and pushed. Out came another, even larger blood clot. I thought, maybe this was finally it, and now I even have something tangible to bury. My little one was running around the bathroom pulling it apart, and I realised the room was swooshing and swirling, and I was bleeding so heavily I couldn't get off the toilet. I tried to contact my husband and my mother, but both were unavailable, so I called my mother in law. I was worried as my daughter was due home on the school bus in a bit and I was not going to be able to go out to get her. She said she'll come as soon as possible but won't make it in time for the bus. So I leaned over the bath, washed my face and pulled myself up. I managed to get downstairs with the little one, and made myself a cocktail of iron supplements, manuka honey, propolis, vitamin c and a magnesium+potassium tablet in coconut water. It tasted awful but did the trick just in time for the bus driver to manically hoot the horn outside. We went inside and I flopped on the sofa and waited. When my mother in law turned up, she was shocked at the colour of my face. She kept saying that I should go to hospital immediately, but at that point I really did not want to be separated from my children, so I refused. I figured it is now over and I'll recover fast. I sat on the sofa for the rest of the afternoon, barely able to move. The midwife was not concerned and told me to take painkillers, rest and visit the following Tuesday.

I woke up feeling heaps better on Thursday but still not quite right. I just got through the day.

On Friday morning I had a school meeting. I chatted with a friend about the miscarriage and she told that I didn't look well. She said I should have stayed home. Half way through the meeting i started feeling contractions again. Not terribly strong but clearly contractions. On the way to pick up my little one, I stopped to get my care tyre fixed and kept feeling a heaviness and gushes of blood. I picked up my daughter and noticed that there was blood on my seat. I drove home carefully as I was feeling really weird but had an incredible urge to get home. I put it down to cutting a fine line to my older one arriving home from school. The little one slept on the way so I took her inside in her bucket seat and ran to the bathroom. I sat on the loo and bled and bled and bled. And then that familiar bearing down feeling overpowered me. I instinctively reached down and something plopped into my hand. The sickness stopped almost immediately. It finally occurred to me to look at what was in my hand. I recognized it immediately: placenta and cord. I felt dazed staring at it, slowly reaslising that I was seeing 2 cords. I thought maybe if I unfold it, maybe the other cord is attached to the sac. So I did, and again the surreal realization hitting me that there was no sac, but a second, slightly conjoined placenta with its own cord...and then another placenta with its own cord. 3. Three! 3 placentas...can only mean...3 babies. 3 babies. 3! Babies! Oh my God, did that hit hard! Really really really hard right through my heart and into my soul. I screamed hysterically. So loud that I woke my sleeping baby downstairs. So loud that it felt like my throat ripped. And then I heard the baby crying, and just like a switch, I put the placentas down next to the skin, rinsed my hands and went to her. I picked her up but realised I was shaking uncontrollably. She clung to me and at some point I spoke to my mother in law on the phone. She couldn't comprehend a word of what I was saying, she just said she'll be on her way and hung up. She made it there before my daughter arrived home, but I really have no sense of time.

Once I calmed down, I went back upstairs and looked at the placentas again.  I took photos and posted them to a private group of like-minded people for advice. All told me the same: looks like 3 placentas. 3 placentas=3 babies. I tried to call my husband but he was unreachable.

My mother in law needed to leave by 4pm, so I kept our playdate at the park and somehow got through it. My husband got home quite late from work. He assumed that once I had the strength to take the kids out, then I was likely ok. Really it was just a mean of functioning and avoiding.

The next day we had 2 weddings to attend but I really was not up to meeting people. I took my kids to the shopping centre Halloween event instead and my husband attended the weddings alone. By Sunday, the gloom cloud was moving closer and I knew that something similar to the baby blues was about to hit. So I arranged for my little one to be picked up after the older one leaves for school. I spent the day moping around, crying, fuming, steaming, being sad, being angry, being dazed. By the time 3pm and the school bus rolled up, I was feeling more able to function and cope. Again, I took the kids out and when my husband called to say it was another late night, I decided to stay out and treat them to a naughty supper. It back-fired because I messed up routine which meant it was really hard to get them to sleep once back home. By Tuesday, I threw us all back into routine...anything to ignore my broken heart. It took another 4 days before I could close up my trousers properly again. Going out and facing people was hard. I wanted to close myself up in my little world and just indulge in my hobbies for distraction. Life with 2 toddlers doesn't allow that. Life as a PTSD survivor also doesn't allow that. PTSD survivors need to get up fighting everday. It can be a blessing and a curse all at once.

I am grateful though. I am grateful that I have something to bury, something tangible. That I will have a spot or a plant I can go to that represents my angel babies. I am grateful to have found this new, natural-oriented doctor on top of already having another. I am grateful that I am a member of a kick-ass online community who really allowed me to lean on them, cry and feel, process, discuss, bounce from emotion to emotion. They handled me with care and sensitivity. They checked in on me and I also made new "friends" in the process. I am grateful that I got to see an intuitive side to my 3.5 year old that I always knew existed. I am grateful that I was given those babies, even if it was only for a very short time. I am grateful that I now have a new tool in my childbirth educator/birth rights activist bag.

And I am enormously grateful for the 2 beautiful girls I get to hold and love here on earth. The journeys have not always been plain sailing, but they are here, in my arms every day and every night. And when I leave this physical world and my living babies behind, I will have 3 angel babies waiting for me on the other side. And I will get to hold them, and love them, and nurse them...and until then they will live in my heart.

To my beautiful little angel babies, Mark, Kian and Lara. Born to heaven 17th October 2013.