22nd August 2015 was all set to be a great day. I was meeting my three beautiful bridesmaids and my lovely mum to try on wedding dresses. It was such a hot day. I’d woken early and by 10am I was already starting to get a bit bothered.

See, I was 11 weeks pregnant. I’d been up million times in the night and I was already showing. I really wanted to get my dress early so I wasn’t stressing about losing baby weight as well as finding one at the same time. We couldn’t wait, we’d have a 1.5year old at our wedding as a very special guest.

She’d been a long time coming, two and a half long years. I think she was a she, I’m pretty sure.

I never made it to the dress shop that day. I ended up in A&E.  Poor Lee, he was shooting a wedding and had to leave me there with Lucy. I’ve no idea how he got through that day. Can you imagine having to leave to go to work?

23rd August. We were allowed to go in for an early scan, just to out our minds at rest they said. But the baby was already gone.

The next few days were a blur of numbness, tears and pain, with an frightening emergency operation thrown in for good measure.

You have no idea how to function. Days are dark.

You are left with a huge hole. Your dreams, plans and hopes for the future have been ripped from you and stamped all over. Despite what anyone will say, you are a parent from the minute you see that blue line and you have no idea how to go back.

Friends don’t know what to say. No-one does really and thats understandable. Some choose not to say anything at all because they’re scared of upsetting you. I get that too.

And what scars are you left with? In my case, quite a few.

Grief, which is endless. You drown in it, and it turns you into someone you don’t recognise. This grief is like no pain I’ve ever felt before.

Jealousy. Three of my closest friends were all pregnant at the same time I lost ours. I’ve felt a lot of jealousy. It tears you up inside and makes you feel like the very worst person you can imagine.

They’re all going through such amazing experiences, all the things we dreamed about. They post beautiful photos, first smiles, steps, first swims, first holidays. Family days. I am happy for them, truly I am, but it breaks my heart at the same time. How can I put that on them?

Isolation – I feel isolated by circumstance, but also by choice. I don’t know how talk to my friends. They are mostly all new mothers, and I don’t have this special thing in common with them. I’m on the sidelines looking in.

So I’ve pushed them away.

Anxiety, which is really the cherry on top of the cake. I struggle around the babies. I really want to be ok, I really want to be part of their lives, but the anxiety takes over and I can’t. I have missed birthdays, bbq’s, christenings, baby showers.

It’s been nearly 14 months since that day. Sounds like a long time when you write it down. Some might look at my life and scream “just be sodding grateful you miserable cow”. You can if you like, but believe me I am grateful for what I have. But I know it’s ok to still want this one more piece too. I wrote this to go some way in explaining the devastation that a miscarriage brings long after the tragedy, not for pity. I know the scars will fade eventually.

I am lucky to have support. Lee, my family, my friends. Despite me pushing them as far as I can, they keep coming back and I am so grateful. My business partner & team, I owe them a lot of beer.

When our baby died that day, so did a tiny part of me. I’m really hoping I can get the old me back soon because she was alright you know. I really miss her.