It was just another morning. Getting ready for work, packing my suitcase, kissing my daughter Lily goodbye for a couple of days & off I went.⁠
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I noticed a little bit of spotting and thought to myself, “I haven’t experienced this before. Well, I’m sure it’s nothing”. But, a nagging sensation wouldn’t leave me. What if it isn’t nothing? I was 11 weeks pregnant and everything had been going well.⁠
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And then, just like that, I unmistakably knew something wasn’t right. I was mad. Mad at myself. Mad at myself for not listening to my body and ignoring the feeling that something was wrong. I was in Vancouver and had to wait for a flight to get home.⁠
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I went to the clinic at the airport where a very kind doctor examined me and said that the only way to know for sure was to have an ultrasound. Something she couldn’t do there. She wished me good luck as I left. In my heart, I knew that behind her warm smile, she wanted to tell me that I was losing this baby, but she simply couldn’t.⁠
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Once again, I went off to wait. I felt so helpless. All I could do was sit around, defenceless, as I was losing my baby. Standing in my uniform in a corner of the Vancouver boarding lounge, I called my mom, I cried. I told her I thought I was having a miscarriage. She didn’t even know I was pregnant. We were going to tell everyone the good news the following week. My heart was breaking.⁠
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The flight home felt like it would never end. I sat in my seat, trying to put on a brave face while the cramping got worse and worse. I just wanted to get off that plane.⁠
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Finally home. My husband held my hand as we sat in the ER, waiting to be seen, feeling utterly powerless. When the doctor came in and said, “So, you were pregnant”, I just sat there and nodded. I was in shock. “You were pregnant.” So matter of fact, well, I guess that said it all. I was gutted.⁠

Then, to go home and just wait. Wait for the miscarriage to happen, to end. I was terrified to go to the bathroom. For it to actually be over. Waking the next morning and sweeping my hand over my tummy, tearfully apologizing to my baby. How much I loved and missed you already.

It’s incredible how much you can mourn the loss of what could have been. Of someone you never met, never got the chance to see, to touch.

That was my child. My child that never came to be. I’ll never know who that child would have been. I can only imagine. Maybe, he was my little boy. My son, my only son.

But, I will never know and it is a loss that I will carry with me for all my days.

Kim

Thank you Kim for sharing your story of loss with our community 💜 #Sharingmystoryofloss