Mabel and Me by Camera & Kit

This was going to be an announcement post, that I was pregnant but regrettably its not.  I miscarried during the week and lost my baby. I have read enough posts on that brilliant support forum NetMums to know that I am not alone.

I found out at an early pregnancy scan.  She was little for her age and there was no heart beat. I could see it for my self on a big arse TV screen. My baby was dead. I had lost her.  The mental anguish is unbearable. Matched only by the intense physical pain of a natural passing.

I had already named her Mabel. Not sure why I named her so early and not sure why I am blogging this, I don't wish to make anyone sad but I thought I would share what I have done with the early pregnancy scan images. 

Photography can be important as part of the grieving process, as a part of mine.  Its helping me to honour her in someway other than watching her slip away down the toilet. Sorry but miscarriage is brutal. I stopped short of photographing it. Maybe I should have.  Delayed or missed miscarriage is extra cruel. Mother nature is cruel because your body does not know your baby has died, you carry a dead baby but with all the symptoms of being pregnant.

That's how I knew I was pregnant.

I put on my sports bra and my boobies would not fit. Suddenly I'd shot up a cup size and was wondering the hell is this all about?   I know Mabel existed, even if it was only for 10 weeks. I could feel her effects on my body and well, I peed on enough sticks to know that she was there. 

See below.

Clearly I needed convincing. My massive boobies were not evidence enough.

Nobody ever tells you how physically painful a miscarriage is.  No body ever says how to honour the baby that never was. No body really knows how to talk about miscarriage. Your response is valid, how you choose to honour the baby that never was is valid. I don't know if she was a girl but I imagine her to be.  We document our entire lives, and whilst technically not a photograph an early pregnancy scan is still an image, I can see my baby.  It evokes feelings and its visual proof that my baby was there, she existed briefly and she was and is loved.

I keep crying randomly and muttering I lost my baby, despite the warm glow from the pain killers I am taking.  So I decided to print the scan and treasure it like a photograph.

I printed Mabel's 9 1/2 week scan. I framed it.  Its in a beautiful vintage inspired frame the Oliver Bonas store in Clapham Common. 


I don't want to share her with the internet so I have tucked it away with the baby woollen beanie I bought because she was due in winter.

Goodbye Mabel ...