Dad-Bod and Tommy’s
So Claire and I are going to be running the London Landmarks Half Marathon (LLHM) on 29th March 2020, this will be the second time that Claire has run this race but it will be my first time. Also to note, Claire will be running her first full marathon a week later! She is an absolute trooper and my inspiration for running this race.
Earlier this year in March, Claire ran the LLHM solo and absolutely smashed it, she ran for the Tommy’s Baby Charity who if you don’t know offer support and fund research around miscarriage. In 2018 we went to them to hopefully get answers to that a whole bunch of horrible questions, most of which we knew the answer to already and one I don’t think will ever be answered.
Why did this happen to us? Why did it happen to us twice? What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently? Is this my fault? Why?!?!
I know that Claire has asked herself these questions a lot, and I have too. I think everyone who goes through this does, and the answers are more than likely the same.
We don’t know. We really don’t know. Nothing. Nothing. No. We’re so sorry but we genuinely don’t know.
As genuine as these answers were, and as pained to not be able to answer them as the midwives and doctors seemed, they’re not that helpful and I think they know it.
Now, we are running this race to raise money for Tommy’s and I’ll tell you why. When we were given the news about this first miscarriage, it devastated both of us. I was staring at the screen and I could see that there was no heartbeat, but that’s fine…Kohen was difficult to find sometimes. But the silence from the sonographer was palpable, I assume her face was stoic but I didn’t take my eyes off the screen so I wouldn’t know. Then she apologised and dismissed herself to bring in another more senior sonographer, who within moments confirmed what we already knew at that point. Bear Cub #1 was gone, we were at our 12 week scan, our first chance to see our little cub and they had stopped developing around week 10 and we just didn’t know. I don’t think I spoke until we were out of the hospital, I sure as hell cried a lot and just felt numb. I’ve never truly experienced that feeling before, I’ve had a lot of anaesthetic in my time, and morphine once, but nothing felt like this.
During this time the majority of the focus was on Claire, and for obvious reasons. There were medical procedures that needed taking care of, we needed to keep an eye out for different signs, here’s a pamphlet for if X happens and if it doesn’t here is a pamphlet with a list of choices. It is very easy during this time though, as the father, to feel forgotten and then later in the conversation as an afterthought.
Now don’t get me wrong, Claire needed the focus for all the physical medical questions, but at the same time I was watching a future with my cub disappearing so maybe just ask how I am? Acknowledge that I’m in the room as well, and maybe offer some sort of service to help both parents, not just the mother.
This was pretty much the same the 2nd time around, but I don’t want to think about that time right now because the way we were treated both of us in the hospital that day was nothing short of atrocious. I was completely ignored by one midwife, and…no another day.
However, and to my point, after the 2nd miscarriage we were able to apply to be part of a research program with Tommy’s, they’re currently looking at one of the possible reasons for miscarriage in some women. I knew going in to this that I was probably going to be ignored during this session and that the focus would be on Claire because she was the one having blood tests done and all the other stuff that they did. However, not once did I feel like I was anything less than an equal partner in this grief, not once did I feel like any of the above feelings were to be considered less than Claire’s just because I was not the one carrying the baby. Every time someone asked how Claire was I was immediately asked. That’s because Tommy’s cares, and everyone who works for them seems to care about the work that they’re doing. That is why we’re raising money for this amazing charity, they care and they’re trying to make a difference and find an answer to some of those ridiculous questions, and hopefully one day we’ll be able to accept the answers without blaming ourselves.
1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage! 25% is insane. Some of your friends have probably miscarried in the first trimester without you even knowing. Personally I think it’s a travesty that it’s so hard to talk about this stuff, not just because it’s emotionally difficult but because if you haven’t gone through it there is little to no frame of reference and being the person who doesn’t know can suck as well. You don’t know what to say or you end up saying something stupid, possibly without even realising it. So we don’t talk about it, we just kind of pretend this doesn’t happen and just expect everyone to move on, because it’s awkward.
My grief is real and just because I didn’t get to meet you doesn’t mean I don’t miss you. We never had the chance to say hello, and we were never given the option to say goodbye, and I think that is one of the things that still hurts.
If I’m being honest, and this is something I’ve not shared with a lot of people, I’m scared it will happen again. I’m absolutely petrified of losing another cub and Kohen may be our lightning in a bottle.
So we’re running these races to raise money for Tommy’s as our way of giving back to a charity that has supported us through our most trying time. You can help us help them by sponsoring us at JustGiving (https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/paul-claire-llhm2019) and give us a follow on Instagram @team_space_bears to see our training updates.
To all my friends who have read this and gone through something similar, if you ever need to talk about anything like this and want someone who maybe understands a little part of it, I’m always happy to talk.