I wait for a check-up to reaffirm my failure whilst surrounded by successful bumps

The silence pounded my ears and pushed against me making me feel crushed and claustrophobic simultaneously. The lack of oxygen reaching my organs shook me to breathe again but it was stilted, sharp and cold. I tried so hard not to feel the sharp tugging, willing my body to get it's act together and hold on; protect my baby. But my womb had already failed in its task.

I had failed my child. The realisation of what was happening slapped me on my now tear anointed face. The shaking began as my feet took me to the phone... 'Mum'... 'Mum where are you?' I thought as the tone rang out. Automatic mode took over and phoned dad, this was not how I was planning to tell him that he was to be a grandfather.

Words of nonsense interspersed with heavy sobs laid the tale bare. This was it. Finished. My first was not to be my first. I thought I was a mother but now I'm only a child.

My body has now returned to 'healthy' status but my mind still doesn't understand. The raw, gut-wrenching pain and nausea are stifled and coated with a smile as I watch as my two best friends hit the 20-week marker. Life laughs as I cry because I should have been joining them at the same stage.

The early pregnancy clinic seems to be in on nature's cruel joke, I wait for a check-up to reaffirm my failure whilst surrounded by successful bumps.

I hope I have a dawn to this night, a hope to break the pain, a chance.

This story was sent in on 13/09/2015

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