The path to parenthood was strewn with heartbreaks and hurdles. But with resilience, hope, and the support of Naître, we found our way back to the joys of expecting, cherishing every heartbeat and kick.
We crossed paths 13 years ago, during our university years in France. Our homes were only a stone's throw away from each other, but our meeting was forged in the digital realm.
Unconventionally, we connected through a light-hearted website, which in English translates to 'Adopt a Boyfriend.' What initially seemed like a playful interaction soon unveiled shared values that drew us together. Fast forward 13 years, here we are. Just like I adopted him on that website, we've stuck by each other ever since.
Our journey to Cardiff was fuelled by my desire to study English law to complement my law studies in France, and Vincent's pursuit of English. We decided to spend an Erasmus year in the UK, and Cardiff welcomed us with open arms. While the weather has its ups and downs (to say the least), the warmth of the people and the sense of community made us feel right at home. What was initially planned as a one-year sojourn morphed into something more permanent, a year at a time. As we found new ventures and projects, we realised we were laying down roots here. Moreover, my degree was non-transferrable, so staying in Cardiff seemed like a natural progression.
Our journey to parenthood was initially dictated by a well-structured plan - get married, secure a home, settle in our careers, and then venture into parenthood. We believed it would be a seamless transition, but reality begged to differ. We were aware of the possibility of pregnancy coming too early, but never did we anticipate the struggles that lay ahead.
We believed we were well-equipped for parenthood, with stable careers, a loving home, and sound finances.
The difficulty we faced in conceiving took us by surprise. After months of trying and several heartbreaking miscarriages, our laid-out plan seemed to crumble around us.
We found ourselves grappling with a reality we hadn't foreseen, questioning everything we did and didn't do, falling into a pit of loneliness as we navigated this difficult journey.
We turned to resources like Tommy's, seeking solace in understanding that miscarriages are more common than we thought. Even though we knew it was unlikely to happen again, the grief was real and the fear lingered. Yet, with pragmatism and hope as our allies, we persevered and fell pregnant again. As we celebrated this small victory, we clung onto the hope that this time, things would be different.
In a world where dreams often face unexpected complications, our paths have been no exception. The first sign that the universe was once again conspiring against us, despite us following every word of advice, was the appearance of signs that spelled disaster, spotting and patches of blood. Yet again, we found ourselves in the clutches of doom, similar to our previous trials but this time, it was a different experience. Around the sixth or seventh week, familiar signs of despair began to appear.
We sought the advice of the experts at the hospital, hoping they would dispel our fears and put us at ease.
However, despite witnessing our distress, their assurances felt like empty promises. They claimed to see a heartbeat, but we couldn't shake the unease creeping up on us. We questioned them, why was there spotting if everything was fine? Their dismissal of our concerns felt like a cold hand closing around our hearts.
Our worries were validated, a mere two days after our visit to the hospital, when we lost our unborn child again. It was as if the cosmos was playing a cruel game, and we were the unwilling participants. We found ourselves questioning the world, filled with anger and frustration. We felt let down by those who were supposed to guide us, the clinicians who refused to listen to our pleas, dismissing our concerns and leaving us to our fate.
The painful realisation that we were on our own in this journey was accompanied by the cold, dismissive words of the hospital staff. To them, two miscarriages were just an unfortunate but common occurrence. Their words felt like a harsh slap, pushing us deeper into the abyss of despair.
They suggested we try again, as if the mental torment was just a minor inconvenience.
In a world where we could control almost everything, it was infuriating and disheartening to be so powerless. Deciding to take matters into our own hands, we sought private counsel, hoping to regain some control. We undertook a myriad of tests, hoping for some explanation, some reason for our trials. The results, however, left us in a purgatory of emotions. While it was reassuring to know that there was nothing ostensibly wrong, the lack of answers added to our frustration.
Despite our previous experience, the hospital did offer us the solace of early scans if we were to become pregnant again. Armed with this reassurance, we decided to try again. A few days after our private tests, we discovered that we were expecting again. This time, it was Louie, our precious little one who is now three years old.
With the joy of knowing we were pregnant again came the fear of history repeating itself. The first few weeks were an agonising wait, with the looming fear of losing yet another unborn child. We clung to the glimmer of hope that was the early scans. Seeing our baby grow brought us immense relief, but the fear never truly left us.
Every moment of the pregnancy was filled with anxiety. The constant fear of something going wrong was a shadow that loomed over us, making every day a battle against our own worries.
The joy that many expectant mothers feel was replaced with a constant fear in our hearts. The pregnancy was a means to an end, a necessary journey filled with constant vigilance and unending worry. We had to make our peace with this, and carry on, for the love of our unborn child.
So, we immediately got on the phone with our local GP even though we were still in France at the time. We filled them in on the situation, and made it clear that we were certain about what was happening. We knew we were going to have to go through the process again, to wait it out until it had passed.
But we were proactive. We had been through this three times now and we wanted to know our next steps. Our GP was comforting and reassuring, and he offered to refer us to the recurrent miscarriage unit at the hospital. They would help us with tests and preparations for our next attempt.
I was sceptical. I wasn't sure if they would accept us due to the 'three times rule' and the fact that we had a successful pregnancy in between our miscarriages. But our GP assured us, and we were eventually referred.
However, at the hospital, they initially turned us away. They pointed out that we were 'lucky' to have had a successful pregnancy. Despite our three miscarriages, they claimed that the two previous ones no longer counted as we had 'reset' with the birth of our child. It was a constant battle to make them understand what we were going through.
Most of the people we spoke to had probably never experienced something like this or it was so long ago that they couldn't recall the emotions.
We had to fight for everything. We went through tests again, and as always, by the time the results came in, the moment had passed.
We also had tests on my uterus and blood to see if there was an issue there. But, there was nothing wrong, everything seemed normal. So, it was back to trying again. But, after the third miscarriage, we weren't mentally ready. It had been a big blow for us and it took us a while to gather the strength to try again.
It's challenging, considering if it's worth the risk, the worry, the potential pain. We already had a child, but we wanted more. Yet, with the lack of support and understanding, and no clear answers, it was difficult to keep trying.
We decided to take a casual approach, not actively trying but not preventing either. We would deal with it when it happened.
But months passed and there was no sign of a pregnancy, which was different from our past experiences where we became pregnant quickly after a miscarriage.
After six months, we began to worry. What was wrong? Why weren't we pregnant?
We started considering our diet, the nutrients we were consuming. There were things, like selenium, that we didn't think about on a daily basis.
So, we thought maybe we needed a bit of help, perhaps our diet was lacking something essential. That's when we found Naître, a supplement brand, and decided to give their products a try. After eight or nine months since our last miscarriage, we thought, "why not?"
The Naître supplements were in liposomal form, which appealed to me because of my knowledge and experience with supplements. I knew it was important. We felt like we were being proactive, doing something special for ourselves, not something you could pick up at any supermarket.
We hoped that these high-quality nutrients might make a difference. We both started taking them and integrated them into our daily routines. It was easy, just grab it from the fridge in the morning, and it tasted fine.
The idea was to try something different, something not found just anywhere. The liposomal form was particularly appealing due to its potent nature compared to regular capsules. It felt like we were taking back control. Our diet wasn't providing us with the necessary nutrients, such as magnesium, zinc, and selenium, that we weren't focusing on in our daily meals. We thought that perhaps this was the solution, the missing piece of the puzzle. So we tried it, we took the supplements daily for about six weeks, and it soon became a part of our routine. They tasted alright and were nothing extraordinary, but they were simple to integrate into our lives.
And then, it happened. After eight weeks, I got pregnant.
It's hard to claim with absolute certainty that Naître was the cause, but the coincidence was substantial. We had been trying for a year without success, and shortly after we started taking these supplements, we conceived. We were thrilled, but we also knew we had to maintain the pregnancy, a challenge we'd faced before.
We discovered that we could continue taking Naître throughout the pregnancy, so I did. I chose it over mainstream prenatal vitamins and continued with the regimen. The pregnancy held, week by week. Because of our history of miscarriages, we were given a six-week scan by the NHS, and everything looked fine. We decided to stick with Naître and take it one day at a time, not thinking too far ahead.
Each subsequent scan showed the baby growing well, and by the 12-week mark, a critical stage, everything was still fine. And here we are, at 34 weeks, with the baby still healthy and growing. I continue to take Naître, making it a part of my morning routine, giving me everything I need for this phase of pregnancy.
We realised that Naître wasn't just there to help us conceive, but also to help maintain the pregnancy.
This wasn't something we had considered when we initially chose the product; our main goal was to conceive again. But it turned out to be a reassuring factor, making us feel like we were doing everything within our power to hold onto this pregnancy.
We can't prove it, but we believe Naître played a significant role. We passed all the milestones with the baby growing well, so we definitely feel that Naître made a big difference for us.
It was pretty surprising how quickly it happened. It felt like it just clicked into place. So, we were really happy, we were over the moon, but also very, very scared. The fear was back, and it was like, it's happening again, but what if it's another miscarriage?
So, we were back on the rollercoaster of emotions. We didn't tell anyone. We didn't want to risk it. We didn't want to jinx it.
We were just like, okay, let's just keep this to ourselves. Let's see how it goes. Let's just wait for the 12 weeks mark, maybe even the 20 weeks mark. We were just really, really cautious this time.
It's really difficult when you're pregnant after a loss, especially multiple losses. You're on edge all the time. Every single day you're just waiting for something to go wrong. Every little cramp, every little twinge. You're just so hypersensitive to everything that's happening in your body. You're constantly thinking, "Is this it? Is this the end?"
So, it was a very tense time. But we were also hopeful. We were hopeful because we had Louis. We knew it was possible to have a successful pregnancy. We were hopeful because we were taking the Naître supplements. We felt like we were doing something different this time, something that might make a difference.
So, we just took it one day at a time. That's all you can do really. It's out of your control. You can't predict what's going to happen. You can't prevent a miscarriage if it's going to happen. All you can do is wait and hope and pray.
It was around the 7 weeks mark when I started to feel really sick, and it was different from the previous pregnancies. I felt awful, but I also felt relieved because it was a sign that the pregnancy was progressing. That's the strange thing about pregnancy after loss. You're so grateful for the symptoms, even when they make you feel terrible, because they're a sign that the baby is still there.
We had a scan at 8 weeks, and we saw the heartbeat. That was a huge relief. But we were still cautious. We knew that seeing a heartbeat doesn't guarantee a successful pregnancy. But it was still a very, very encouraging sign.
And then we had the 12 weeks scan, and everything was fine. The baby was growing, the heartbeat was strong.
It was such a relief, but also so surreal. It felt like we were living in a dream. We were so used to things going wrong, it was hard to believe that things were going right.
And then we had the 20 weeks scan, and again, everything was fine. We found out we were having a little girl. We were overjoyed. We started to let ourselves dream again, to hope again, to plan for the future. We started to believe that this could really be happening, that we could really be having another baby.
But the fear was still there, always lurking in the background. We were always on guard, always ready for the worst. It was a constant battle to stay positive, to stay hopeful. It was exhausting, but we kept going. We had to. For ourselves, for Louis, for our unborn baby.
And then, finally, the day came. Our little girl was born. Healthy, beautiful, perfect. It was the most incredible moment of our lives. It was like all the pain, all the heartbreak, all the fear just melted away. It was worth it
And I think for us, it was just about doing everything we could, everything in our power to help this pregnancy succeed. And taking Naître felt like an active step we could take every day, a little thing we could do that might make a big difference. And we'll never know for sure if it was the thing that made the difference, but we do know that we started taking it, and then shortly after, we got pregnant and have been able to sustain this pregnancy.
And it's not just about the physical aspect of it, it's also about the mental aspect. Because when you've been through recurrent miscarriages, it's not just a physical ordeal, it's also a mental one. It's about the constant fear, the constant worry, the constant what ifs. And taking Naître, it gave us a bit of peace of mind. It made us feel like we were doing something proactive, something that could help.
And I think that's really important. Because when you're in this situation, when you're dealing with recurrent miscarriages, you can feel so helpless, so powerless. And anything that can help you regain a bit of control, a bit of power over your situation, it can make a huge difference.
So, yes, we feel like Naître has made a big difference for us. And we're really grateful that we found it. We're really grateful that we decided to give it a try.
Because now we're here, 34 weeks pregnant, and everything is going well. And we're just so excited to meet our little one. It's been a long journey, a difficult journey, but we're finally here, and it feels amazing.
So, we would definitely recommend Naître to anyone who's trying to conceive, especially if they've had a difficult journey. Because it's not just about the physical benefits, it's also about the mental ones. It's about feeling proactive, feeling empowered. It's about doing something that could potentially make a huge difference. And for us, we feel like it has.
And that's why we're sharing our story. Because we know there are so many couples out there who are in the same situation as us, who are dealing with recurrent miscarriages, who are feeling hopeless and powerless. And we just want to say, don't give up. Keep trying. Keep looking for solutions. Keep believing. Because it can happen. It happened for us, and it can happen for you too.
So, that's our story. A story of heartbreak, but also a story of hope. A story of perseverance, of resilience. And we just hope that it can give a bit of comfort, a bit of encouragement to those who are in the same situation as us.