Today we got the test results from the post mortem of my 25wk fetus, my tiny baby girl. Ellie.
They told us that she didn't die as a result of something I'd done, eaten, touched or smelt (my paranoia had taken me into Daily Mail territory of ridiculous thought).
They told us that there wasn't anything wrong with my body that caused it.
They told us that everything inside her was developed normally, organs and skeleton.
They told us that, they just don't know why she died. Her heart just stopped. No reason why.
They don't know why my body kept hold of her and didn't try to expel her.
This is the best outcome. But it still feels hard to accept. In my way of thinking, having a reason means that I can do something to stop it happening next time, a drug perhaps, change my behaviour or give up a bad habit.
I have to tell myself that we stand a good chance of a successful pregnancy next time.
I would have been 36weeks today.
It has been a long time since I have been reading this post. I have been thinking which words I could use here until I realised that nothing would be appropriate. I am sorry to read what happened and I send you some warm hugs.
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