I intended to share this on 9th October but I wasn’t able to so I wanted to share it now.
TW: baby loss, addiction, eating disorder, infertility, miscarriage.
And breathe. This is officially the hardest thing I’ve ever written or shared publicly. A few years ago (I will not be sharing dates – that is too personal) I had a late stage miscarriage. I was 15 weeks. And absolutely no one knew. I was in the worst place I have ever been with my mental health, using drugs and alcohol at every opportunity and in the depths of anorexia. This wasn’t an intentional pregnancy and it wasn’t with someone I had a relationship with and I wasn’t clear headed enough to even consider my options. (I want to note here that for those of you who know personally the father of this baby was not my abuser). I planned on keeping my baby and I am certain it was a girl. I was going to call her Evie, Evelyn Rose to be exact, and daisies have always been something I connect with her, hence my tattoo and them being my favourite flower. Having a miscarriage was the hardest time of my life and I don’t think anything else could come close. The physical experience of a miscarriage, especially late stage, is horrific and no one ever seems to talk about that. But the mental pain is like nothing I’ve ever known. And I was alone. I was alone due to my own self destructive behaviour but I’d give anything for just someone to have known what was happening. I will never stop wondering if my baby would’ve survived had I not been damaging my body so much and that is a guilt that I will live with forever. I am sharing this to make people aware. But also to tell people that there is support out there and you are not alone. There are so many charities there to support you (I have tagged a few in the photo) and there are so many of us that would be happy to listen. In the last few years I have been made aware that I can not have children. I would likely miscarry again, due to EDS I have a greater risk of dying and my baby would have a 50% chance of having EDS, a risk I would not take. Along with that as my condition deteriorates I could not help raise children and Erin and I have both agreed it is not a safe or sensible option for us. This hurts. I will never be able to express how desperate I am to be a mother and the pain I feel knowing that it will never happen. I wish I could say the pain from this gets easier but for me it hasn’t yet. But I can say with absolutely certainty that you’re not alone and you will get through this.