The TFMR procedure

This post is the second part of our story, and focuses on the TFMR procedure. If you haven’t already, please head over to part one- I had a TFMR , before continuing to read here.

If you’d prefer to skip ahead and read my positive still birth story, you can click here-Our still birth story – Flicks and Red Lips

Before you read on, this story may be triggering if you are pregnant or TTC.

Please note- in our circumstance we had full support from our consultant and could legally opt for a TFMR at any gestation, due to the severity of our sons condition. Post 24 weeks, if you doctor does not support your decision, you may need to seek a second opinion. There is lots of helpful information in this post from Tommy’s charity here– Terminating a Pregnancy for Medical Reasons (TFMR) | Tommy’s (tommys.org)

Now I’d reached 23 weeks, things were starting to look a little different, in terms of the TFMR procedure. From 22 weeks gestation onwards, you are offered a procedure to stop your babies heart before they are born. A procedure called Feticide, which is now my most hated word in the English dictionary.

As much as this was a devastating decision to make- the alternative is an induced labour and distress to a baby who is unlikely to survive the trauma of birth. Letting him go whilst he was warm, safe and unaware of what was happening was the kinder option.

We were transferred to a specialist hospital for this procedure, due to the severity of our son’s hydrops. I’m not sure how common this is, but I was offered mild sedation and I’m very glad I accepted. If you’re about to go through this procedure, I’d suggest asking them if it’s something you think would help you too.

Having to sign, as his mother

Prior to being given the sedatives, a nurse took us through the paperwork. Reading in black and white our sons diagnosis and the ‘decision’ we had made was heart breaking. As was having to sign my name, next to MOTHER, to allow the next steps to happen. It’s something you never envisage you’d have to do. I imagined signing my babies birth certificate, not a legal form to end his precious life.

After about an hour, once the sedatives had relaxed me enough, we were taken through to a large room. It reminded me of a cross between a dental theatre and a scanning room. My husband could stay with me throughout, holding my hand. Whilst the nurse and consultant sat on the other, in front of a large scanning machine.

I can’t remember much of the time in there. Between sedation, meditation and in all honesty, trauma, it’s a place my mind struggles to revisit. However, I’m told the procedure itself is similar to amniocentesis.

I closed my eyes, focused on my breathing and listened to a guided meditation on headphones throughout.

A 48 hour wait

Once the procedure was complete, we returned to the private room we’d spent the previous hour in. Again the nurse visited us, checked me over and gave me two tablets. This medication is to prepare your body for early labour and must be taken at least 48 hours prior to induction.

Those 48 hours are a blur. Trying to parent a living child (who was due to leave nursery and start school any day) whilst carrying a baby you are grieving for, is an impossible task. I know now I was numb and in total shock, as I had been from the previous three weeks.

I packed my hospital bag, practiced my hypnobirthing techniques and tried to focus on delivering my son in the positive way I had his older brother. His birth was the only journey we’d take together, and I felt I wanted to honour him in his arrival.

Time to meet our son

In the next post, we’ll finally meet our son. If you’d like to read our still birth story, you can do so here-

If you’ve read this post because you have or are going through this- I’m so sorry you’re on this path too. My heart goes out to you, and my emails are always open if you want to talk. If you’re struggling please do get in touch with ARC– Antenatal Results and Choices (ARC) – non-directive information and support before, during and after antenatal screening (arc-uk.org)

If you’ve read it out of sheer interest- thank you. Because sharing TFMR stories to those who haven’t experienced it only helps to shed the fear of us talking about this type of baby loss. It helps to smash the taboo. It helps us all understand what friends, family or colleagues may have gone through.

Sian x