"I received a phone call from the bereavement specialist. She explained that the baby wasn't actually a boy. She was a girl. They had made a mistake. "

A mother’s experience of Oxford University Hospitals Maternity Services in 2018:

This happened 8 years ago, and I finally feel ready to share my story.

I lost my little girl when I was 18 weeks pregnant. I had PPROM, which meant my waters broke very early, and I was told there was very little chance of survival. We had a scan at a private gender scan, and that was where we were told that her heart was no longer beating.

I was booked into the JR. I wasn't really told what was going to happen, and I had no idea what to expect. I remember thinking that perhaps I would be given a pill or something similar. Instead, I had to give birth.

I had two scans by doctors to confirm that the baby had died, and then I was taken to a delivery suite. I remember seeing the butterfly symbol on the door, but at the time I didn't understand what that meant.

The midwife looking after me was very cold and distant, which made an already horrific experience even harder.

When I delivered the baby, I asked if I could see her. I was completely in shock when I saw her. Her head had split open, and although she was fully formed, her brain was visible. It was absolutely horrendous and something I will never forget.

We were told that the baby was a boy, so I named him. Later, I asked if I could see him again. The midwife asked, “Who do you want to see?” I said, “The baby.” She replied, “The what?” I immediately backtracked and felt stupid for calling him a baby. Looking back, I realise how vulnerable and traumatised I was in that moment. I shouldn't have been made to feel that way.

I delivered the placenta and was then taken to a room where my husband and I stayed together. I worked for the hospital at the time, but I had to take time off because of the trauma I had experienced. And unfortunately, the trauma didn't end there.

For six weeks afterwards, I continued to haemorrhage. I was walking around wearing large maternity-style pads because I never knew when it was going to happen. Suddenly, I would start bleeding heavily, and huge blood clots would come out — some larger than my hand.

Every time it happened, I would end up back in hospital. I would be left waiting for hours and then given medication to try to make my uterus contract and clear anything that remained.

This went on for six weeks.

I became terrified of leaving the house. I couldn't go to work. I couldn't go anywhere because I was constantly scared that I would suddenly haemorrhage again. I felt completely trapped by the fear.

I eventually developed severe PTSD from everything that had happened.

One evening, I had to have an ambulance called because I had lost so much blood. I was passing huge clots, some around 20cm long. Twice, I was given medication to try to resolve the problem, but it didn't work.

Then, six weeks later, I finally had a meeting with the specialist to receive the post-mortem results.

Around the same time, I received a phone call from the bereavement specialist.

She explained that the baby wasn't actually a boy.

She was a girl.

They had made a mistake.

She apologised, but by that point I felt completely broken. I had already spent six weeks grieving the baby I had been told was my son, had given him a name and had tried to process everything that had happened.

And suddenly, I found out that my baby was actually my little girl.

I had to grieve all over again.

When I finally saw the specialist, he asked me how I was. I explained everything that had happened, and he was genuinely sorry. He arranged for me to have an operation within two days.

It turned out that I still had placenta inside me.

Eight years have passed, but I have never forgotten what happened.

For a long time, I couldn't talk about it. I felt traumatised, angry, confused and heartbroken, and I didn't know how to put any of it into words.

But now, eight years later, I finally feel ready to tell my story.

My baby was a girl.

I never got the chance to know her, but she was real, she was loved, and she will always be part of my story.