Memories of a miscarriage

cool bananas. cool bananas blog

As you may have guessed from the title, this will not be much fun for me write. & It’s likely to be a slightly uncomfortable read (sorry about that). But it’s something that is never too far from my mind. Even though 4 years have passed, events from the 14th January still devastate me. & I don’t suppose I’ll ever ‘get over it’. Because you can’t really, can you? Loosing a baby (at any stage of gestation) is incomprehensible. Earth shattering. Devastating.

I can’t bring myself to tell you exactly how this event unfolded. It was traumatic, & sharing those horrific details with you would serve no purpose. To be perfectly honest, my coping mechanism is to avoid going over the specifics.

It’s a dark cloud on our idyllic Mauritian wedding, & inevitably when the time comes to celebrate our anniversary, sadly this commemoration appears. Hand in hand. We got married, & 4 days later I suffered a miscarriage. We returned home to our wedding reception, where I put on a brave face. There was no avoiding the ‘Ooh. So now you’re married, will you be thinking of starting a family soon’ question from guests. How the fook am I supposed to have answered that, less than a week after loosing a baby? For crying out loud. I’ve no idea how I endured the ‘aftermath’ & having to relive the events, numerous times, for the sake of an insurance claim (a hospital stay).

I find myself wrapped in a constant guilt. If I try to move on, push those memories of loosing a precious, teeny tiny life, the pain & anguish it caused (not only me, but those nearest & dearest also) to the back of my mind, I can’t help but feel as though I’m doing this sweet soul an injustice. As if it’s not worthy of being spoken about, loved & being remembered. It may be a hard concept to grasp, how could you love someone you’ve never met? (Apart from as a by-product your body has expelled. Trust me when I say, what I saw was a textbook image of a foetus at 10 weeks gestation). At the risk of sounding crazy, I want to remember this life: to honour it in some way.

I feel guilty, for feeling guilty: I am blessed to have an incredible, rumbustious, happy & healthy little boy. Had I not miscarried, Bear simply would not be. He is my world, & my love for him intensifies daily. Then I feel guilty for not thinking of ‘Bean’, the lost one. You see where this is going….around & around in circles. I think we’re all genetically programmed to feel guilty, throughout life.  I simply think of ‘Bean’ as my ‘Rain’ & Bear as my rainbow……


WHY? Why? Why did it happen? I look after myself: Exercise is my medicine. Living a balanced life & eating nutritious foods has always been integral to me. I felt (& still feel) angry, as though my body let me down, it failed me. I failed. I let others down. What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently?

An awareness of being deeply isolated surrounded me. Nobody knew what to say, or how to comfort me. Heck, I didn’t know how to be comforted. I just wanted to cry (I still do). More than anything, I just needed support. & Y’know what? IT’S OK NOT TO BE OK. Crying is good: it helps. In no circumstances do I believe you should bottle up any emotions.

I remember being told by various well-meaning individuals, that they too, had suffered miscarriages. Multiple ones. I’m confident their intention of sharing this poignant information was supposed to reassure me. It did the opposite & my heart sank even further. I appreciate I am far from unique, but hearing this when I felt so raw & vulnerable gave me no strength, just filled me with fear.

Oh, & some helpful sod thought reciting the NHS pregnancy loss statistics would help (In my mind, I told ’em where to go)

Counselling wasn’t offered, but I’d have jumped at the chance of having a professional to discuss my inner most anxieties with. In fact, even now, it could probably offer me some level of fortitude & reassurance I desperately seek.

I cannot wait to expand our family, even if this prospect scares me shitless. I pray for history to never repeat itself, & I live in hope.

I’ve gained an unshakable trust in my instincts from this unwelcome tale of events. I’ve learned to ask for help. Calling out for support does not mean I am not ‘coping’. It means I am.

Tonight, I will honour the loss of my innocent angel (& all other angels) by lighting a candle & saying a little something for her* (*I simply don’t like the reference of ‘it’). I’d be touched if you would join me.

If you have suffered miscarriage or pregnancy loss, my heart aches for you. It is shit.

Your grief may not get easier, but you will get stronger.

Image Credit/ credit




  1. 23/02/2015 / 10:11 PM

    I thought that there could be nothing worse than suffering a miscarriage on holiday but I was wrong. I am so sorry you had to deal with this on honeymoon and that you will always have it shadowing every anniversary.

    There is no easy way. There is no forgetting. There is only carrying the experience in your memory, which will fade over time. There is only carrying the love you have for the child that did not stay in your heart, where it will be kept safe and cherished.

    I am so sorry.

    I so wish that my pain could have prevented yours. Prevented anyone else’s.

    Hugs to you sweetie.

  2. 21/01/2015 / 10:27 PM

    Gosh this is a beautiful post. I suffered a miscarriage before I fell pregnant with my eldest daughter almost 5 years ago. I don’t think miscarriage is discussed enough. It’s truly devastating. And nobody in the whole world seems to understand. My due date would’ve been 27th December. I remember every year. I can relate to all of this. Thank you for such a lovely post!

  3. 19/01/2015 / 3:12 PM

    Just come across this post, and I am sending lots of love for you. I agree in the saying that a baby is a baby no matter the gestation, you wanted that precious soul, imagined life with your unborn child and it was stripped away with no meaning, so for you to honour your baby’s life – i think this is the most loving act & very courageous to share these words, x x x

  4. 18/01/2015 / 11:50 PM

    Hugs and kisses to you. The “what ifs” are just so hard!

  5. 18/01/2015 / 1:55 AM

    What a beautifully written, raw and emotional post Katrina and I am sending you huge hugs. I think you are brave and honest to be sharing this post and well done to you for posting it. I haven’t had to go through the pain of a miscarriage, although lots of friends have, and like you have so eloquently put, whatever gestation you lose a baby, you lose with it dreams, hopes and future plans that happen as soon as you learn of the news you are expecting. I don’t have anything to say particularly but just wanted to tell you I had read this and that I think you are very brave. Sending you lots of love and hugs. xx

  6. 17/01/2015 / 11:26 PM

    There is nothing I can say. But I wanted to send you a big hug xxxx

  7. 16/01/2015 / 6:13 PM

    Hey Katrina, well done for writing this… it’s very brave to put it out there. It’s an emotional and exhausting experience and even though it happens to far more woman than we realise (I recently suffered one), it’s an incredibly personal experience and everyone deals with it in different ways. Thanks for sharing. Thinking of you. Lots of love E xx

  8. 15/01/2015 / 12:17 AM

    I am so so sorry for your loss. No amount of time passed erases the pain and sadness. I had a miscarriage last year and am still so sad when I think of what could have been. It is something I will live with forever. But reaching out for support is so important. This isn’t something we should go through alone, there’s no shame in saying we need a shoulder to cry on. It was something I just couldn’t comprehend until I experienced it myself. I think that’s what makes it hard for others to comfort us if they don’t know what it really feels like. I found that just writing my feelings down really helped with the grieving process. Always here if you want want to chat. Xandi xx

  9. 14/01/2015 / 10:53 PM

    I don’t think anything I can say will make you feel better but it’s very brave of you to write this post and share your inner most thoughts on such a painful time. Lots of love to you and Mr B xxx

  10. 14/01/2015 / 10:32 PM

    Oh lovely. I just want to reach through the screen and give you a massive hug. I promise I will give you an extra big one next time we meet up xxx

  11. 14/01/2015 / 10:22 PM

    It IS shit. BEYOND shit. I’m so sorry you had to go through this. It not only robs you of a child, it robs you of the innocence of pregnancy and taints all future pregnancies with fear. I lost (can’t bear the m word) our first baby at 10 weeks and thought my world had ended. I felt woefully let down by a “system” that didn’t really look after me and, like you, by my body. I blogged about it years later and the tears streamed down my face throughout – as I’m sure they did yours – showing just how raw the pain remains. Like you, my rainbow came in the shape of my two subsequent children but the rain never leaves completely. Huge hugs to you tonight lovely. x

  12. 14/01/2015 / 10:00 PM

    I can’t tell you how sorry I am to read your story but can completely relate. I had 2 miscarriages before Wonderboy (one on mothers day which seemed cruel as opposed to ironic). Well meaning people quote statistics & because one was very early, I even got asked was I sure I was pregnant in the first place. Good lord. Time definitely takes the edge off but no, you’re right, I don’t think you ever get over that. Be kind to yourself lovely lady x

  13. 14/01/2015 / 9:22 PM

    K, I quite simply love you to the core for sharing this post. People make assumptions based on gestation. Anything pre 12 weeks seems to be pigeon holed as ‘oh well maybe next time’ Bullshit! Dreams of the future take seconds to begin, not weeks. Dates, smells, songs all hold memories of the heart ache that will never fade.

    Utmost respect for sharing your fears and feelings xxx

  14. MrsCoolBananas
    14/01/2015 / 8:47 PM

    Your support is stronger & more poignant than any words can be. Thank you. & I wish you a healthy, happy delivery with a fairytale ending. xx

  15. MrsCoolBananas
    14/01/2015 / 8:44 PM

    Thank you Emma. Your words really do help me feel supported. xx

  16. MrsCoolBananas
    14/01/2015 / 8:44 PM

    You’re so right 🙁 . & Thank you Gemma, that would mean so much for me. xx

  17. MrsCoolBananas
    14/01/2015 / 8:43 PM

    Thank you so much for your terribly kind words Olivia, you have no idea how much they mean to me. thank you xx

  18. MrsCoolBananas
    14/01/2015 / 8:41 PM

    Sometimes words aren’t even needed. A hug will do just fine sweetness xx

  19. 14/01/2015 / 5:32 PM

    I have no words. Sending love and a hug x

  20. olivia
    14/01/2015 / 3:52 PM

    tears streaming as I write this with an aching heart to send love & to say i will be lighting a candle. you are so amazing, just remember that, please. Olivia xx

  21. 14/01/2015 / 2:38 PM

    The emotional pain is far worse than the physical pain. I’ll join you and light a candle with you Lovely xx

  22. 14/01/2015 / 9:07 AM

    I am so sorry you lost your baby. Thinking of you on this anniversary, so tough xxx

  23. 14/01/2015 / 8:07 AM

    Oh you poor thing. I have had 2 miscarriages following the birth of my now four year old daughter and, despite being heavily pregnant now, I still think of them and cry.
    There are so many what ifs?
    I can find no words of comfort because no matter what people said to me, it didn’t make me feel any better and I continue to worry neurotically about this pregnancy and I think will continue to do so until a live baby is placed in my arms.
    All I will say is you are not alone and please, I am here if you want to talk.
    It is the worst thing to go through ever. Such a waste of everything.
    Lots of love

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