'Today, I miscarried at home. My 8-year-old daughter was my rock.'

This post deals with miscarriage and might be triggering for some readers.

I don't know why I am sharing this. I guess I realise that someone might be able to relate, or not, or maybe it’s a little bit cathartic. 

But I just needed to express some moments of absolute pain and loss, but also incredible gratitude and it's not something I can share anywhere else.

Today, I miscarried. 

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My eight-year-old daughter didn't know that I was pregnant. I miscarried about 20 minutes prior to needing to do the school run, then spent half an hour cleaning myself up through tears and shock and just so much mess. 

Once I was semi-decent, I jumped in the car in some trackies, forgot my shoes and raced to school sitting on a towel.

I knew I was going to be insanely late, so I called a dear friend and school mum who was quick to offer to grab my daughter and take her home. 

She said, “Just take your time and pick her up from my place, it's all good. I'm walking to her now!"

I have so much gratitude for my village. My dearest friends, who I can show up to at their place; forgetting my shoes in a mad panic, and there's nothing but a big hug and zero judgement.

Later, as we got home from the school run, I thought things were going to be okay. 

Nope. Another whoosh of horror. This time, right in front of my daughter. I knew I was going to need to have a conversation with her about what was happening. 

I told her I'd get cleaned up and we'll chat. Instead, I sat on the toilet forever, semi-crying, kind of in shock and a little bit panicked (actually a lot panicked). 

I called out to my daughter for plastic bags, cleaning cloths and antibacterial cleaner. I asked her, “Please go and hunt through your stepsister’s period stash and find the biggest pad possible and can you bring me clean knickers?”

I stood up, flushed, another whoosh. I called back out to her and said, “actually can I get just a handful of fresh knickers and every pad you can find?”

I felt faint. I lay on the toilet floor for a moment, cleaned up, flushed, and tried to stay calm.

Which brings me to the thing I am most grateful for tonight. My girl. 

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My little, but clever, calm and quick-thinking eight-year-old girl, who was scared, worried and absolutely terrified. 

And yet she raced into action, did the run around for everything I needed: found painkillers, brought me water, laid down with me and stroked my hair.

And then just absolutely fell apart when it was all done and the adrenaline came crashing down. It was time to tell her what was going on. 

She was so strong, so calm and just so ready to look out for me and help me when really all I wanted to do was protect her from seeing or knowing anything. Circumstances had her caring for me.

My partner is a FIFO and wasn't at home, but she was and she was just absolutely incredible.

When she went to bed, I lay there and just stared at her in absolute awe. I imagine there might be a little trauma associated with today and we'll keep chatting and debriefing as we need.

But my eight-year-old daughter was my rock tonight.

If this has raised any issues for you or if you would like to speak with someone, please contact the Sands Australia 24-hour support line on 1300 072 637. 

You can download Never Forgotten: Stories of love, loss and healing after miscarriage, stillbirth, and neonatal death for free here.

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The author of this story is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons. The feature image used is a stock photo.