Jen Oliver is a Head of Social Media & Content Marketing, and a mum of three.

Hello, my name is Jen. I’m married to Dave, and we live in Liverpool with our 3 teenagers. I work in eCommerce marketing, and I also have a little side hustle called Woollie Treasures selling crochet loveliness.

Before my miscarriages, everything in life had always seemed to come quite easy to me. Don’t get me wrong, I worked really hard as well - and that had always paid off.

It was in 2004, during the final year of my PhD at the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine (LSTM) that Dave and I decided to start a family. I fell pregnant straight away, which we didn’t expect. We were over the moon, and told a few family members and friends right away. Not long after finding out I was pregnant, we went on a road trip round Canada. Everything seemed fine, but towards the end of the trip, one evening I went to the toilet, and when I wiped, I saw blood. This quickly escalated into cramps, and the loss of my baby.

The next morning we went to the hospital.  I remember the sonographer saying, ‘It’s as if you were never pregnant’.  What he meant was that the miscarriage was complete, and no further treatment was needed - but those thoughtless words cut deeper than he will ever know. I felt like my body had failed me, that I had failed, and there was nothing I could do about it. I felt incomplete, helpless and empty. And although I had heard of other people having miscarriages, it had never crossed my mind that it could happen to us.

Afterwards, we were advised by health professionals to wait a month, and then we could try again. I was told it was really common for women to miscarry and that it was unlikely it would happen again. Sure enough, the following month I fell pregnant again straight away, and I honestly didn’t expect that I would miscarry again. It got to the same day that I miscarried previously, and everything looked okay. I felt anxious, and keen to get beyond that point. But later that evening, I went to the toilet and wiped. There was blood again. I went straight to the hospital, had blood work done (which showed that I was pregnant), and was told to come back the next morning for a scan. But sadly, that evening the same events that happened the first time, happened again. I already knew before I went back to the hospital the next day for my scan, that I had lost my baby again.

The consultant who saw us at the hospital said that I would need to have a 3rd miscarriage before I would be investigated under the NHS.  However, she also said she had a feeling that a clotting problem was causing my miscarriages, so suggested that once I was ready to try again, I took a low dose aspirin every day. My 3 teenagers are now living proof that her theory was correct!

Walking through that season of miscarriages was one of the hardest times in my life. At times it was so lonely, and the sadness acute and overwhelming.  Worst of all, there was nothing I could do to change anything at all. Everyday during my next pregnancy with my eldest son, I had to battle with all the ‘what if’s’, the panic, and the dread of going to the toilet in case I saw blood. It was so hard. I would get to the end of each day, and just thank God that I was still pregnant! All I could do was take each day, and sometimes each hour, at a time. It was emotionally exhausting!

Before having my first miscarriage, I wasn’t really aware of many people who had been through miscarriages, but we decided not to walk our journey alone. Once family and friends became aware of what we were going through, they appeared around us to support us and some let us know that they too had experienced miscarriage. What really helped was when people simply showed up with a hug, a cinema invite, an ‘it’s rubbish, I’m so sorry’ message, or ‘I’m here for you’. 

I didn’t want people to tell me how common miscarriage was and I didn’t want to hear that everything would be fine - because no one knows the future! I simply wanted to feel seen, supported and loved at a time when I felt most vulnerable and the future seemed so uncertain.

Everyone’s experience of miscarriage is different, and I’m fully aware that not everyone has a happy ending like I did. But when we were walking through miscarriage, we didn’t know that we would eventually end up having 3 gorgeous and healthy babies either. Getting through those days was really hard, and sometimes meant just focusing on the task in front of me because thinking ahead to the coming days, weeks, months and beyond was just too painful and worrying.

Even though my miscarriages happened over 18 years ago now, I’ll never forget what I went through and I’ll never forget the babies that I didn’t get to meet either. My Dad also passed away back in 2016, and I now take great comfort in the fact that he will already have met 2 of his grandchildren in heaven and given them a big hug. The 2 babies I never got to hold. And one day, I think there’ll be an even greater celebration, when we finally all get to meet!