"I fell pregnant with my first son very easily and looking back, I was lucky to have had a straightforward pregnancy and then a somewhat trickier birth, but all in all, Teddy’s was a very positive story.
 
When he had just turned 2, we decided that it was time to think about trying for a second baby. Again, we fell pregnant in the first month and began to feel very excited about having two summer babies.
 
I had many of the same symptoms as I had done with Teddy, but there were also some little niggles and worries this time and I almost seemed to sense something wasn’t right. I called the pregnancy advice line a couple of times with questions and they assured me that if I had positive tests then it was a great indicator, but the lines seemed too faint to me. I couldn’t shake my concerns and worries, then began to fear it was an ectopic pregnancy or something was wrong and so I went to A&E.
 
I had to go in my own because we had no one to look after Teddy and I can still recall the loneliness and fear I felt as I walked through those doors. The staff who looked after me were incredible. They found me a quiet place to wait away from everyone else and came to check on me frequently while I waited. Eventually I went through to a bed and had bloods taken and they took my urine sample. I lay there with my fingers crossed, clutching my little bag of umpteen pregnancy tests and prayed. Sometime later a doctor appeared to do an ultrasound. He looked for ages and then turned to me and said he couldn’t see a heartbeat. Then he said my levels in my tests were so low that he thought I was probably going to lose this baby.
 
I felt numb. Tears slowly dripped down my cheeks. As it was the weekend, there were no specialists there and they needed the bed so I was moved to a chair in another quiet place to wait for some more information. Then I drove myself home.
 
The next morning I felt the cramps and saw the blood. It was nothing like period pains. These felt like contractions. The hospital had said to come back if I started miscarrying, but I didn’t want to be on my own there. I stayed at home and lay on the sofa and cried. We called our parents and sobbing, shared that our joy from the last calls about this pregnancy was no more.
 
Those days that followed were a blur. The bleeding and cramps were almost a comfort as they were the connection to our pregnancy and made it still real. I felt another wave of grief when they ended because that little, much loved baby really was no more. My emotions were all over the place. I felt grief, pain, anger, disappointment and failure.
 
I will never forget the people who held me up literally and metaphorically in those darkest of days. Those people who heard what I needed and were there without question. Thank you will never be enough.
 
Something that I found really comforting in the weeks and months that followed, even to this day really, was having something tangible that would commemorate our baby. I have a little red woollen heart, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand or in my pocket and I hold that and think of my baby. It’s a cliche too, but time does heal. As time passed, I found when I thought of our baby, I pictured them at the beach on a beautiful sunny and warm day. They’re standing at the water’s edge with their back to me, paddling and watching the waves. When I close my eyes and picture the scene, there’s an overwhelming sense of peace and happiness which brings comfort to me.
 
Whenever we go to the beach I walk to the water and talk to my baby and let them know I’m thinking of them and I always take a photo of the sea, my way of taking a photo of them. It brings me so much comfort.
 
We were then lucky enough to fall pregnant again. Throughout that pregnancy I was so anxious, so fearful of something going wrong. I didn’t relax and enjoy it. Getting to every milestone - an early scan, 12 week scan, 20 week scan, 24 week viability, feeling them move and then reaching full term at 37 weeks - gave some more reassurance, but I don’t think until I held Rupert in my arms that I truly believed he was going to be here and ok.
 
Miscarriage changed me. I will always wonder who that little baby, our little Poppet, would be and what they would be like. I adore Rupert and feel so unbelievably happy he is here, but we’ll always think of that baby who wasn’t able to stay with love and sadness.
 
I have 2 babies here in my arms and another held forever in my heart"