I had a miscarriage and wanted a hug, but thanks to Covid I was alone – Telegraph.co.uk

The physical and emotional pain I felt was horrific. Id lightly wake between sleep cycles in the middle of the night, instinctively turn over to go back to sleep before I remembered what was happening, and sob.

But worse was to come. I started to miscarry properly at home that Monday just hours after Id had the scan. The bleeding got much heavier and as Id been discouraged from going to A&E I ended up calling a paramedic out at midnight because I was still suffering from intense, labour-like pain.

Nobody had told me that this might happen and there seems to be very little honest information about the physical realities of miscarriage, so I had no idea if this was a greater cause for concern (as it turned out, it wasnt).

After that awful night, I slowly started to recover from the blood loss and exhausting physical process, though my patience was tested as I struggled to keep up with my thankfully-none-the-wiser two-year-old.

As I processed what had happened and my physical energy levels very gradually increased, I tried to get on with life. I even worked for a couple of days that week, thankful that I didnt have to face anyone in the work-from-home normality of Covid. I carried on with my Netflix binges. I distractedly checked emails, browsed websites and scrolled through social media on my phone but thats where I was constantly reminded of what had happened to me.

The pregnancy newsletters I subscribed to were still coming through. My Facebook newsfeed was relentless: Free gifts for new parents. Hypnobirthing. Baby bottles. Sign-up links for pregnancy newsletters. Similar ads followed me as I browsed unrelated websites.

The result of mindlessly clicking on products to prepare myself for baby number two was still very much there, even though the baby was not.

Removing ads from outside Facebook was fairly simple I could just clear my browsing history and cookies. I could also unsubscribe from emails.

Facebook, however, was far from straightforward. I tried reporting the ads as offensive but this made no difference. At this point, I suspect many grief-stricken parents in the same situation simply give up.

I figured there must be a setting somewhere within the site. But, of course, changing settings in Facebook is rarely an intuitive process. Emotionally drained, it took another few days before I had the motivation to try and get rid of these ads once and for all.

My Facebook ads experience improved, but I still see maternity clothes on image carousels from fashion retailers. I get offers on photoshoots for newborns. Worryingly, I even had an ad about IVF treatment, which I quickly reported as offensive.

Its been three months since our miscarriage. From dealing with pregnancy symptoms during lockdown (working full-time while looking after a toddler and dealing with nausea is no fun) to being told the embryo hadnt developed with no-one there to comfort me it has been tough.

As times gone on, my husband and I have learnt to accept what happened. But thats not the case for many people who struggle to process such a traumatic event without proper information about what its like to go through miscarriage and bombarded by online ads to remind them of their loss.

I hope my story, and other conversations during Baby Loss Awareness Week, will help break the taboo of miscarriage and encourage more information about its realities to be published.

Baby Loss Awareness Week runs until October 15. For more information and support, go tobabyloss-awareness.org

If youve had a miscarriage and would like to share your experience, please fill in your details below. You are welcome to use 'Anonymous' if you prefer.

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I had a miscarriage and wanted a hug, but thanks to Covid I was alone - Telegraph.co.uk

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