It was a miscarriage at seven weeks. At my first obstetric scan, it was detected that the heart rate was not as fast as it should be. The doc asked me to return a week later to see if there were any improvements. Two days after that first visit, I started spotting.

During my first pregnancy, this was a usual sight (after a transvaginal probe) and it stopped after two to three days. But this time, the spotting became heavier day by day. It almost felt like a heavy period by day four and I had cramps as well. I knew it was not a good sign.

Honestly, I felt so alienated and in disbelief that it happened to me because I felt young and healthy.

Reading a lot about miscarriages and how common they are helped me a lot, as well as learning how others cope with them. I mostly kept to myself to heal. My daughter was a true sunshine baby — looking at her reminded me that I should stay strong for her.

I kept reminding myself that a child, no matter how young they are, and even if they cannot fathom words yet, can still pick up your vibe and aura.

She was about 10 months old at that time and very much stuck to me almost 24/7. So I tried my best not to let my feelings overwhelm me. Only when she was asleep or with someone else for a while did I find the time to talk it out with my husband — which honestly was not that often either.

Strangely, people around me avoided talking about my loss. I suppose they didn’t want me to keep replaying it in my head.

But I wanted to talk about it so badly. I wanted people to know how I felt.

Honestly, it felt like people were more uncomfortable talking about it than I was. I’m not sure if this helped or not, but for most parts, I managed to suppress my feelings and get over the phase quickly.

Of course I didn’t expect my husband to feel exactly how I feel. It wasn’t in his womb and he didn’t feel the painful cramps from the miscarriage. But he definitely grieved and felt really apologetic for me. I appreciated his little gestures of buying my favourite food and drinks, and always lending a listening ear when I felt the need to talk about it.

I wish they’d let me talk about it rather than being quick to change the topic all the time. But I get it, it’s a difficult topic to broach and they definitely had good intentions. I was thankful that my family and friends offered words of love, and were there for me.

I would definitely make it known that it’s not their fault at all. There is nothing they could’ve done to stop it from happening.

I always knew that I wanted to be a mother and raise my own family; I’ve pictured myself being a mother since I was young.

My mum was also the best person to hang around with so I’ve always been drawn to that maternal love. I knew I wanted to share it with my own children one day.

The fourth trimester, aka postpartum, was the most stressful as I was hypersensitive and reactive to many things that usually didn’t bother me. The main culprits were the long waking hours and interrupted sleep.

Between having to nurse, put the baby to sleep, pump, wash and sterilise the pump and bottle parts, and general house chores, I was moving around the house so much after giving birth that I had major water retention in my legs (think cankles!).

The swelling took a long time to go down and it became painful to walk. My postpartum recovery felt longer than it should’ve been because I didn’t take good care of myself. Now I know better! On top of that, the pressures of breastfeeding, the feeling of being unkempt and unattractive, and the general lack of sleep made me feel poorly about myself. I was so out of it and had constant mood swings for about two months.

Trying to devote my time, energy and attention equally to being a mum, wife, daughter and friend. It’s a whole paradigm shift!

I’ve become more organised and schedule my days so that I get tasks with the highest priority done in the first half of the day. I’ve also become a homebody and will get my family and friends to come over so that I can still spend time with them while in the comfort of my home.

Getting to relive my childhood! I brought my girl to the playground and realised that it was the first time in probably 15 years that I’d played on a swing.

Time slows down when I’m with my toddler because we are so present in the now.

Spending several pockets of time in a day to read a book, go for a massage, exercise, or just gardening.

I think there is a lack of support for breastfeeding mums. Lactation consultants are financially inaccessible to some. There’s also the expectation and pressure that breast milk is best.

But in general, as long as your baby is full and healthy, fed is best.

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