Our Little Nuthatch

Before I start, I feel I should give readers a trigger warning as this post comments on pregnancy loss, miscarriage and baby loss, which may be upsetting. 

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I haven’t posted for quite a while. There’s been quite a lot going on and there’s no easy way to talk about these sorts of topics so I’m just going to delve straight in.

I never thought it would happen to me. To us. In fact, the night before it was all over, I had thought about the stats. 1 in 4 end in miscarriage. “I’m always so lucky when it comes to health stuff”, I thought, “it won’t happen to me”.

How very wrong I was. Within 24 hours, my dreams had shattered, my partner and I were devastated and my whole world came crashing down. I began to question whether I’d ever truly been in pain or had grieved before because this was on a totally different scale. The pregnancy was over. It had stopped 4 weeks before the scan. My body had cruelly continued in denial past the 10 week milestone. But there would be no October baby. Or a baby in 2023 for that matter. And I would have to miscarry at home.

I’m not going to comment on the details of the physical and emotional distress here. My journal is for that and let’s just say that April and May 2023 were heavy on the entries. We found out on April Fools Day and boy did I feel like a fool. If you’ve experienced this too then you probably know what I mean. I look back at that past life at a naive woman. I don’t blame her for being naive. I mean, did any of us ever get taught about miscarriage and pregnancy loss at school? But still.

One of the most difficult things for me to process in the weeks that followed was that I had felt this baby with me throughout February and March, but all the while it was gone. Its tiny heart had stopped or had never even started. And even though it was early days, it was loved from the beginning and had brought me such strength and comfort through both difficult and happy times. 

It wasn’t a relaxing month, I’ll grant you. I caught Covid for the first time early in March after 3 years of avoiding it. And my great uncle sadly passed away too. At the funeral, I remember feeling such solace through the tears that it wouldn’t be long before I’d have some good news to share with the family. Sadly that wasn’t meant to be in the end, but the comfort I felt was real.

One of my happiest memories, though, was with my mum, dad and sister when I visited them towards the end of the month. It really had been a tiring time and pregnancy made me very hungry and sleepy. So trekking all the way up to Barlick after traveling to the North East the week before for the funeral wasn’t really something I was looking forward to. But this memory – and the others I made on the visit – really made it worth it and, although my little jellybean had sadly stopped growing by this point, the happiness it brought me was and is real. So that’s what I’m going to talk about. This memory that fell within the happiest time of my life. 

The weather wasn’t the best, but my sister had convinced me that it was still worth us going to Wycoller for a walk and some lunch. We used to work in the old cafe at Wycoller when we were teenagers and their pie and peas and chocolate cake are just to die for! 

So, despite the risk of rain, we got in the car and even managed to drag my dad out. It was the first time the 4 of us had been out for a proper walk since my sister and I had lived at home. The weather held for the most part and we walked down from the car park, through the hamlet and then up the track to the moor. We thought we saw a raven up there and we also spotted a treecreeper near the beck on the way back down. But the standout bird of Wycoller, in my opinion, is the nuthatch.

I think my partner and I realised this a couple of years ago when we visited Wycoller together. We saw nuthatches everywhere. And, with my mum, dad and sister in tow, I think we counted about 5 nuthatches singing or climbing up and down trees this time. We sat at a picnic table with them all around us as we ate our pies. I remember deciding then and there that this was how I was going to break the pregnancy news to my family after the 12 week scan – that I’d had such a lovely time at Wycoller but that there weren’t 4 of us there. There were 5. And I sat there with a little smile on my face, imagining their reactions when I shared my secret.

As I said, knowing the pregnancy had already ended by this moment is still painful to accept. Some days are still hard and coming out of the other end has been a journey I never expected to be on. There is no ‘bright side’ and I’ve been spared comments to the contrary from very kind and considerate family members, friends and colleagues who have supported me without trying to look for positives. But, in a way, this experience made me grow up. It made me learn things about myself and it made me a parent. And I will therefore always love my first for what it brought me. So I knew I wanted to paint a nuthatch to commemorate this time. The time when my partner and I became a family. Our little nuthatch.

If you’ve experienced a missed miscarriage or any form of pregnancy or baby loss, please know that I see you and you aren’t alone. There is help and support out there. These are some of the websites/resources/groups that I found helpful:

Tommys
Worst Girl Gang Ever (book, podcast, Insta and Facebook support group)