Baby Loss Awareness Week

11 October 2021 - A King's patient shares her story

Swapna’s story

You never think it will happen to you. But then you’re sat in a scan room, staring at your bright blue socks as you wriggle your toes against the soft white sheets, waiting for the sonographer to say something.

But they don’t. Instead they call someone else in. And in the split second before she speaks, you realise that your world is about to fall apart.

“I am so sorry.”

I have had four miscarriages in the last three years. Two losses in the first trimester, and two losses in the second trimester.

My losses went from bad to worse. The first was an early pregnancy test, followed by a late and long period, known as a chemical pregnancy. The second was a ‘blighted ovum’ where a gestational sac was found, but no embryo was developing. I lost that pregnancy whilst at work, and just carried on as if it wasn’t happening. I didn’t know what else to do.

Then there was Rivaan. My tiny little boy. He was born “sleeping” as some people prefer to describe it.

Rivaan arrived in a perfect amniotic bubble, after a straightforward and strangely beautiful labour. I’ve felt so bizarre admitting I ‘enjoyed’ the birth. But it was the only thing we were able to do together. My husband holding my hand, and my baby being born.

The next few weeks are a blur. I have snippets of memories. Agonising over whether to have a post-mortem, sitting in a funeral home being shown a catalogue of tiny coffins. I thought people were mad having these conversations with me, but then I’d realise they were talking to me about this because I had lost my baby.

I know how intense it might feel to read this. Almost too much. I understand this, I felt this too while reading so many other people’s stories in the early days of my losses. It is horrific.

But so many women and families have had similar experiences, and so few feel able to talk about it openly. And so when this does happen, the person going through it often has no idea how to navigate it, or what to expect.

Like me, millions of women do not get answers to why their baby died. But I know I am one of the ‘lucky’ ones with the excellent care I received at King’s College Hospital.

I sleep-walked through all my investigative tests, which all came back normal and we were advised to simply try again. So we did, and we got pregnant again that same year.

I was terrified, depressed, and exhausted with grief. But I was fast approaching 40, and waiting didn’t feel like a good option.

I did what you’re strongly advised not to do, and listened in to my baby’s heartbeat from home regularly. It was beautiful, and precious and fragile. I had a number of reassurance scans, supported by Sarah Phillips, the amazing bereavement midwife at King’s. I returned to work and tried to get through the days and weeks and months.