Irish couple speak out about the grief of losing a baby

One couple’s treatment in hospital during a miscarriage was so horrific, they wrote a book about it as a form of therapy, writes Olivia Kelleher.

Miscarriage is among the few surviving taboos in Irish society. An estimated 50 Irish women a day experience a miscarriage, yet the majority feel they have to brush the experience under the carpet. The pressure is to get back to normal and of course you can always “try again”.

Siobhan O Neill White had a seven-month old boy, Mitchell, when she unexpectedly became pregnant in 2004. A bit shell shocked at the idea of having two children under the age of two, she quickly came to terms with the news. She began to envisage how the next few years would unfold. The children would be pals. The house would be a hive of activity.

Then, tragedy struck. At the three month mark Siobhan experienced a spot of bleeding. She sat in the reception area of a Dublin hospital for hours waiting for a scan. Eventually a doctor coldly told her that her pregnancy was no longer viable.

“He made no eye contact. He said that it was probably a miscarriage, which hadn’t happened yet. He never said that I was going to bleed heavily. He never told me the physicality of what to expect. We were horrified at the way he dealt with us.”

Siobhan said she was ill-prepared for the sheer brutality of what a miscarriage entails.

“It was like my waters were breaking. There was so much blood. I didn’t know that I would have cramps similar to labour pains. I was crying I was in so much pain.”

Siobhan stresses that the devastating experience was further exacerbated by the clinical attitude of staff in the hospital.

“I went to the emergency room and my husband wasn’t allowed in. He was told to stay in reception. They got me a bed. One nurse was very prickly with me. It was nothing to her. It was everything to me. I was in a ward with other expectant mothers near term and they were all hooked up to monitors and I thought it wasn’t fair to have me there. I was trying to cry quietly. At one stage, a doctor told me my baby was ‘long gone by now’. Dave my husband was outside and he was really upset, as nobody was telling him what was going on. I remember at one stage I grabbed a nurse’s uniform and begged her to allow my husband in.”

Siobhan, who now gives talks on her miscarriage experience to medical students at UCD, says she was shocked when she eventually was reunited with her husband.

“He had his head in his hands. They hadn’t told him that I had miscarried. I had to tell him. Again, all of this was avoidable. A little bit of kindness and a word or two would have helped.”

On the morning she was discharged, Siobhan, fortunately, was dealt with by a kind nurse.

“She told me to go home and rest and have lots of cups of tea. Physically, I was shattered. There was a complete sense of loss. And I was lucky I had a baby to go home to.”

Siobhan says the weeks after the miscarriage went by in a blur of depression. She became distant from her beloved husband, as she felt it was very much her own experience.

“I was angry, because the hospital separated Dave and I. If we had been in together we would have been more united in dealing with it. We were drifting away from each other. I rang the hospital and they gave me a contact for a counselling service, but it was just for women, not for the husbands or partners. I began to write about it, which was therapeutic. I wrote a book about miscarriage with my husband. That book helped our relationship. The grief was massive. That book was our baby. Our baby didn’t die for nothing.”

In 2010, six years after her initial miscarriage, Siobhan lost another baby. The pregnancy was unexpected. She had just started up her website mumstown.ie and life was hectic, but she was joyously anticipating having another baby.

In the early stages of her pregnancy, Siobhan went for a scan at a hospital in Drogheda. She was informed that there was no heartbeat and that the baby hadn’t really grown or developed properly.

Her experience at Our Lady of Lourdes hospital was the polar opposite of her previous miscarriage. Staff were “fabulous” and she was put in a room on her own.

“They gave me a D&C and that was a kindness to me. The anaesthesist was so lovely. He asked: ‘What’s your tipple?’ and I said ‘wine’ and he said well it will be like that. I was given tea and toast afterwards. Because of the way it was handled, we were able to grieve the baby as a couple.”

Siobhan says one of the major problems is that doctors often see miscarriages as clinical events. Whereas, in reality, the loss of a baby is the death of a dream.

Siobhan says miscarriage loss can stay with someone for decades. Her own parents lost a baby to miscarriage and when her father read her book he cried about the loss of his own child.

“He cried his eyes out for the loss of his own baby 40 years ago.”

Siobhan is now a mother to four children. Mitchell, 13, Robyn, 11, April, 9, and five-year-old Summer. She says her life is proof that there is life after miscarriage loss.

Meanwhile, responses to miscarriage at maternity hospitals have improved two fold since 2004, when Siobhan suffered her first miscarriage. Cork University Maternity Hospital (CUMH) train all of their staff to be sensitive to the needs of women and their partners. Bereavement-and-loss midwife Anna Maria Verling says they are hugely mindful and protective of women who have experienced a pregnancy loss.

CUMH has a specifically designed emergency unit, early pregnancy unit, and ward, which means women who are experiencing miscarriages are spared the heartache of being in a room with heavily expectant mothers. Women who experience pregnancy loss are also informed of the support and counselling services available to them.

Ms Verling says that, while miscarriage is always difficult, it can make a big difference if it is dealt with sensitively by midwifery and medical staff.

“There is less distress if you have been cared for well. For most women, this is a wanted pregnancy that they have invested in. The loss these women are feeling is normal. You want to validate their loss and reassure them that it is normal to feel upset and to grieve. Sometimes, women think they are over reacting when in fact they are not. It is a loss and the hurt can be there for a very long time.”

Ms Verling said miscarriage can often feel like a “silent grief”.

“Public awareness of miscarriage is quite poor. Information on miscarriages is often about genetics and investigations, but there is a human side. These women are vulnerable and need supportive care.”

SUPPORT ORGANISATIONS

The Miscarriage Association of Ireland was set up with the support of women and men who themselves have been through miscarriages.

It holds monthly support meetings in Buswells Hotel, Molesworth Street, Dublin on the first Thursday of every month.

Feileacain is another charity which aims to offer support to anyone affected by the death of a baby during pregnancy or shortly after.

Impacted mothers can contact Feileacain on 085-2496464.