After we had Olivia it took us 18 months to fully accept we had a child! It also took that length of time to heal from birth and to recover from post-natal depression. So when our daughter turned 20 months we tried again for another child. We never intended for Olivia to be an only child. We wanted her to grow up with siblings. We naively thought that this time around would be different and that we wouldn't have any losses. But when I turned up at the hospital four months later for an early scan I was informed that I could die imminently due to the baby escaping out the womb and bursting in my abdomen. I had an emergency laparoscopy to remove the blood (as that was all that remained) from my abdomen. None of my tubes were damaged and the doctors couldn't see how the baby had got out so when I awoke from surgery they thought I was still pregnant. But sadly later that day they confirmed I was not and that I had indeed had a tubal pregnancy. They just called it a "medical mystery" and sent me on my way.

Two months later I fell pregnant again. As soon as I saw the positive results I knew instantly it was too soon after the ectopic pregnancy. I was still grieving, still in pain. I was forced to have another early scan because of the risk of ectopic reoccurring. But they informed at the scan that there was an issue with this pregnancy too. There was too much blood in my womb, and sure enough two weeks later at eight weeks, I lost my sixth child.




I sat in my car on my drive and uncontrollable tears rolled down my face. It was like a slow rolling waterfall. Two losses. in Two months. We buried the baby in a plant pot and it is to this day still in my garden. A black cloud descended over my life for the next three months. We stopped trying. We tried to focus on what we did have. Olivia. We planned day trips and holidays and tried to bury our grief in every day of just getting on with life. And of course, as with all tough times, it seems as if everyone else is supremely happy, just getting on with their lives making babies. Of course, the truth is, we are all fighting a battle no one knows anything about.

I hit rock bottom on our trip to Italy. I literally could not hold myself together. My anxiety was through the roof. I couldn't control myself on the flight. I was beside my self with fear. I was so worn out by grief that it was now affecting every part of me emotionally. I was a wreck. A short flight to Florence and I was in tears the whole time. I don't like flying at the best of times but this was ridiculous. When we arrived, I was exactly the same in the car. I'm a terrible passenger but I had completely lost control of all rational thought. It was so bad on the flight and in the car, my husband looked up train journeys back to England.

That week in Italy I realised things had to change. I had to change. I couldn't live with the grief anymore. It had to go. I had to find a focus. I had to move on. I need something to hope for.

During this time I had a friend I was becoming increasingly closer to. She also was finding a new way forward in her life. And she started to share with me some of the things she was discovering. From personality tests to decluttering, how to courses on mum life, makeup courses, I took them all. I also realised during this time my love for interior design and calligraphy. My husband had signed me up to a calligraphy course which I went to after Italy and I just fell in love. I took a short course in Interior Design and loved it. It all gave me a new focus. My husband had also found a new focus, meditation, and we took a course together. All of this learning was over about three months and in that time we tried to fall pregnant again. After four months we were pregnant. But there was no woo hoo. We didn't talk about. We just got on with life. I didn't go for an early scan. We just waited and we waited. And soon enough the 12-week scan came round and right now I am five months pregnant. I am also now studying to be a fully qualified Interior Design.