Showing posts with label massive perivillous fibrin deposition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label massive perivillous fibrin deposition. Show all posts

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

Clara: Right Where I Am 2016: 5 years 4 months 3 days followed by 4 years 3 months 13 days

As always, I include my true title to remember my 3 little stars also…

Right Where I Am: 5 years 10 months followed by 5 years 4 months 3 days followed by 5 years 1 month followed by 4 years 3 months 13 days followed by 3 years 8 months 5 days

Molly should be starting school today.

I can see her in my head. Hair plaited, shiny shoes, green blazer, red and green tie, big smile... all set to go the the primary school both myself and her daddy went to.


Social media is covered in 'first day of school' posts. It hurts to look at them. My little girl should have been part of that too. The photo of the uniform, the photo at the front door, the photo at the school gates. I can only imagine it in my head, I will never experience these things with Molly. Or with Grace, who should be starting school next year.

I often wonder what life would be like with 3 girls running around. Our little rainbow Cara brings us so much joy and laughter. I feel horrendously guilty that she will probably never have a living sibling... a playmate, a friend to grow up with, a support in later life as we grow older. She has her cousins but she will never have a living sister or brother.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we just tried again... a tiny sliver of hope says go for it. But we can't. The treatments already didn't work, why would they work now?

In all likelihood, it would just mean another silent birth, another coffin, another name on a gravestone. So here we are nearly 6 years down the line since our journey began. Despite all the heartache, we got to meet Molly and Grace and our journey brought us to Cara. She is such a miracle and a joy and she makes us grateful every day. 


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You can read my previous Right Where I Am posts by clicking on the links below:


You can read more about my condition and my story here:

Wednesday, 15 July 2015

Clara: Right Where I Am 2015: 4 years 3 months 1 day followed by 3 years 2 months 11 days

I wasn't going to write a post this year. I've been thinking and thinking and just couldn't find the words. I didn't really know where to start. I still don't but I was at the girls' grave today and felt I had to come home and write. Just some musings... no literary greatness... just some thoughts.

I remember thinking my title to these should always be much longer…

4 years 9 months followed by 4 years 3 months 1 day followed by 4 years followed by 3 years 2 months 11 days followed by 2 years 7 months

Just sounds ridiculous. Sad. Stupid. Depressing.  Honestly? I still can't believe that it is my story, that it all happened to me. I think I lived in a daze for a long time.

I struggled with the lead up to the girls' birthdays this year, much more so than ever before. A few days before Molly's birthday I opened an app on my phone: Timehop, 4 years ago today... my status was about a day we spent in St Andrew's. Great start to the holidays I said. I remember it clearly right down to the clothes we were both wearing. It was a beautiful warm day, we walked along the beach, I felt Molly moving. We were so full of hopes and dreams and so very happy.

Two days later she was gone and was then born on the 14th. Just reading that gave me a great big slap and I felt it right in my guts again. I struggled to keep it together for the next few days. I was such a different person then. I'll never be that girl again. I can see myself in my head on that day, so happy and so carefree. That day I just felt that it was all just shit. Those two little girls will always be missing. People just don't get that.

And then of course came the guilt. After all the loss, I was now in the position where I was a mummy to a living, breathing child. The most amazing little girl who has brought so much joy, laughter and healing into our lives. And here I was in a crying mess. What good does that do for the little miracle now here?

So I guess where I am right now is balancing the juggling act that is mothering 3 children in 2 entirely different ways: 1 who is here and 2 who are not. And realising that it is okay to still have days when I am sad. Mostly I am incredibly grateful, as always, for my little rainbow and for the support around us from friends and family. I am incredibly blessed.

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You can read my previous Right Where I Am posts by clicking on the links below:

Right Where I Am 2014: 3 years 3 months followed by 2 years 2 months 1 week
Right Where I Am 2013: 2 years 2 months 2 weeks followed by 1 year 2 months
Right Where I Am 2012: 1 year 2 months followed by 1 month 10 days

You can read more about my condition and my story here:

Massive Perivillous Fibrinoid Deposition
My Story
When loss keeps on happening...

Monday, 14 July 2014

Clara: Right Where I Am 2014: 3 years 3 months followed by 2 years 2 months 1 week

I am in a very different place from last year, a place I never thought I would be. After 5 losses, I am a mummy to a living child.

This time last year I had decided enough was enough. It felt like massive perivillous fibrinoid deposition had us beaten. I had tried every treatment plan available including treatments that had not been used at my hospital before. I had put my body and soul through hell. All to no avail. We had buried 2 little girls and lost 3 more in early pregnancy.

There was the tiniest sliver of hope though…

Because the girls were perfect and it was just my body that had let them down, our consultant suggested surrogacy. We could still have our own biological child if we could find someone to carry them for us. I knew of a friend with the same condition who was going down this route and all was going extremely well so I was hopeful. However, I felt I couldn't ask anyone to do this for me.

And here was where my little sister stepped in. She offered, she offered again, she kept offering... and we decided to give it a go. We transferred one embryo to my sister and our little miracle was born 2 months ago.


She is such a blessing and I still cannot believe she is here to stay. She has brought us such healing and she reminds us so much of her big sisters. I am in love.

The arrival of this little miracle has also brought to the fore a whole new set of feelings. I now KNOW what I am missing out on with Molly and Grace. I grieve for all the little things I'll never get to do for them that I get to do for their little sister. I grieve for the fact that Cara will never know her big sisters. I wonder what our life would have been like with 3 little girls running around! I also grieve for the fact that I will never carry a healthy baby to term - my body just won't do it. I always felt there would be something healing about being able to give birth to a live baby but I have accepted now that this will never happen and I am so grateful that my sister was able to keep my little lady safe for 9 months.


Mostly, I feel so very blessed to have Cara. I miss her big sisters every day but I would not change a thing. Having Molly and Grace has blessed my life in more ways than I could count. The people I have met, the relationships with family and friends that have been cemented, the legacy they have left to us…

I look at my little miracle and she reminds me of her sisters in so many ways. She has 'piano fingers' just like Molly had, she furrows her wee brow just the way Grace's was. I love that I can see them in her but she is still her own wee person. A little bundle of healing.

And we are healing. We will never be 'better', we will never 'get over it'. At the end of the day, two little girls are always going to be missing from our family but Cara has returned happiness and hope to our lives and for that I am so very grateful.

Right where I am... so bloody glad that I did not give up.


You can read my previous Right Where I Am posts by clicking on the links below:


You can read more about my condition and my story here:

Monday, 8 July 2013

Clara: Right Where I Am 2013: 2 years 2 months 2 weeks followed by 1 year 2 months

Technically, if I was being really honest with myself, the title to this Right Where I Am should be a little different...

Truly Right Where I Am: 2 years 8 months followed by 2 years 2 months 2 weeks followed by 2 years followed by 1 year 2 months followed by 7 months


A ridiculously long title and a stark, sad reminder of 5 little babies taken from us far too soon.

So where am I right at this moment in time? Desperately clinging on to hope that someday we just might, might, might have our earth family. Massive perivillous fibrinoid deposition just about has us beaten. There are no treatment plans left to try. I have punished my body enough. I am relieved that my last pregnancy ended in December at 11 weeks... I could not have coped with another stillbirth and that is the way it would have gone. Even at that point, my placenta was a mess.

So I am clinging on to the hope of a family and wondering how on bloody earth I got to this point. When did this become my life? I am exploring options beyond options beyond options. Seeing specialist after specialist after specialist and generally leaving them shrugging their shoulders and scratching their heads. We have a positive way forward we think, although it is not something I want to talk about yet. I just need to keep believing I guess.

At the same time as all the continuing heartache though, I am counting my blessings. The amazing support network we have around us which continues to keep us going. My wonderful husband - he is my rock. My beautiful niece - my little ray of sunshine. I am also eagerly awaiting the arrival of my new niece or nephew in October. It just can't come quickly enough, I want them safely here. It has surprised me just how much I am looking forward to this little person coming into our lives, it has surprised me how well I have coped with the news of a new baby. I am so delighted I can feel this way and I am lucky because my sister in law has done everything she can to make it easier on me. I just want her to enjoy it, I just want everything to be okay for her, I am very much looking forward to being an auntie again.


I am also trying to live life again at the moment - an attempt to claw back some of the girl I used to be. I am losing weight (2 stones so far), cycling again and have also signed up for sea kayaking classes this Summer. Life is too short and I have enough to feel miserable about without feeling miserable about myself too.

Reading this post back, it sounds to me to be all over the place which is probably a true reflection of where I am at the moment. Despite this, I am trying to keep going, trying to live a life that will make my girls (and all my babies) proud of me. Still determined that I will never give up.

You can read my post for Right Where I Am 2012 here:

You can read my girls' story here:

Friday, 30 November 2012

Clara: When loss keeps on happening...

At the moment, I am waiting to miscarry. My fifth pregnancy, my fifth child... yet still no living children.

All was going well. Various early scans had shown a little bean, with a heartbeat, developing well. A scan at 11 weeks on Tuesday showed the heartbeat had stopped. This has been so completely unexpected and I feel completely numb. If anything, I expected the bad news to come as we approached 20 weeks and beyond. I have been taking all my myriad of medications, focusing on getting to that point and then taking it from there.

Since finding out we were pregnant again, I have injected myself with heparin over 100 times. I have taken over 200 steroid tablets as well as the daily aspirin tablets. I have had two intralipid infusions. Folic acid tablets, vitamin D tablets, pregnancy multi-vitamins. All to no avail.

We do not yet know if the condition that took Molly and Grace from us (massive perivillous fibrinoid deposition) is responsible for this loss also. My placenta will need to be sent away for testing. If this condition is found again, we have nowhere else to go. This treatment plan was our last hope.

If the loss of this fifth much-wanted baby is just ‘one of those things’, I still do not know where to go from here. I just don’t know if I can cope with being pregnant again. My body needs a break. In the past 28 months, I have spent 18 of them pregnant with absolutely nothing to show for it, except a gravestone commemorating two little girls and a shattered heart.

A very close friend with the same condition lost her 4th child last week. She has 4 children in Heaven now and, like me, has no living children. I have 5 children in Heaven now. It’s too much, it’s unfair to expect so much of one bereaved mummy. As this friend has said, we are a medical mystery. Despite the advances in modern medicine, we are a rarity and people don’t really know what to do with us. Our children are perfect but our immune systems are letting them down.

I just don’t know where to go from here. My heart has shattered. I feel I have let everyone down... again. It’s just horrendous.

You can read more about my journey here: Clara- My Story
You can read more about my condition here: Clara- Massive Perivillous Fibrinoid Deposition

Update Feb 2013: Placental tests came back to show that MPFD had returned with a  vengeance despite the extensive treatment plan. So this does not work for us. Where do we go from here? We just don't know.

Sunday, 16 September 2012

Clara: My Story


Inspired by the other parents who have shared their children's stories on here, I have finally decided to share the whole stories of Molly and Grace. Here goes...


We found out we were pregnant with Molly in mid-December 2010, 5 months after our wedding. We were delighted but couldn't help worry as we had miscarried at 6 weeks just under 3 months earlier. At a scan on the 6th of January we saw Molly for the first time. A little bean with a flickering heartbeat. We were in love! We were delighted and let our parents in on the news early on.

Things were going well. I was being sick constantly. We started to relax and counted the days to our 12 week scan so that we could announce our happy news.  Valentine's Day arrived and with it my 12 week point. Our scan wasn't until the following week. My mother-in-law came with us and we were amazed to see our little jellybean waving away at us. All was well the sonographer said, things were progressing nicely.

We announced our happy news to friends and family. No-one was more excited than my 5 year old niece. She was so excited about being a big cousin and started having regular conversations with my growing bump. The 'morning' sickness continued morning, noon and night.

At 16 weeks I had a small bleed. A trip to the maternity unit showed I had a cervical erosion. Nothing to worry about at all. We also had the chance to hear Molly's heartbeat through the doppler. One of the most amazing sounds I have ever heard. In the next few weeks, I started feeling movement. Every time I sat down, I had flutters in my tummy.

At 19 weeks, another bleed. Again a trip to the hospital confirmed the erosion was the cause of the bleeding and we had another opportunity to hear the heartbeat. Perfect! We were looking forward to our 20 week scan the following week.

On the 12th April, at just over 20 weeks, we headed to the hospital for our scan. I hadn't felt any flutters for a couple of days but was waiting patiently for the real kicks to start. We were looking forward to seeing how our jellybean was coming on. We were shown into the usual room but this time the sonographer did not turn the screen round. All was quiet and I knew something was wrong. She took my hand and said 'I'm sorry but there is no heartbeat'. I will never forget that moment. She went to get someone to come and confirm that our baby had died.

We were shown to a tiny room and told a doctor would come and speak to us. We were in shock. The next couple of days are a blur. I was given tablets to take and told to come back in 2 days to be induced.

We arrived back at the hospital a couple of days later and were given a side room in the labour ward. All around us we could hear the cries of healthy newborns. At 10am, I was given the first pessary to induce labour and the contractions started soon after. That whole day is a blur to me.

Molly was born at 21 weeks on 14th April 2011 after a 12 hour labour. I didn't look straight away. The midwife took her away and brought her back to us all clean and wrapped up. I was scared to hold her, scared to touch her. But she was perfection in miniature and so beautiful. Her hands were perfect, complete with long fingers and tiny fingernails. She would have played the piano, I knew that.

We held her and spoke to her. I was scared to unwrap her and look at her. I was scared to keep her with me. We spent a few hours with her then the midwife took her away. I was in shock. I don't think I would have survived had it not been for my husband. He was there every moment with me, he kept me going. Leaving the hospital the next day, without Molly, was one of the hardest and most horrendous things I have ever done. Walking away that day was the worst part of the whole experience, I don't know how my legs carried me. We buried our beautiful girl 2 weeks later on a warm, sunny morning.

I have regrets...
...that I didn't look at her feet, that I didn't hold her for long enough... I just didn't know what we were allowed to do and I didn't have the presence of mind to ask. I look at her footprints and I wish I had looked at her tiny, perfect feet.

July brought results of the tests carried out on my placenta. Molly had been perfect, my body had let her down. Placental results showed that she had died due to a very rare condition called Massive Perivillous Fibrinoid Deposition (MPFD).  This basically meant that fibroids and clots had formed on the placenta, gradually taking over until it was no longer fit for purpose and unable to support a growing baby. You can read more about it here.

Consultants put in place a plan for future: daily aspirin tablets and daily self-administered heparin injections. It was hoped that this combination would stop clots forming and keep the blood moving through the cord. Time would tell.


We went on to have another early miscarriage at the end of July 2011 and then pregnancy test on New Year's Eve confirmed that we were pregnant for the fourth time and, with a treatment plan in place, we were hoping that finally this pregnancy would give us our take home baby. What a fantastic start to 2012! Our rainbow baby was on its way!

We were booked in with the midwife straight away as we needed a quick referral to our consultant and a early scan before we started on the medication. 6 weeks brought us to our first scan...

With a little bean appearing along with a heartbeat we began the medication. At night, I was taking my aspirin, folic acid and vitamin D. Also I began injecting the clexane. This was a bit strange at first but I got used to it quickly and a vast array of bruises began to decorate my tummy. I was not bothered, I would have injected myself a hundred times a day to keep my baby safe.

8 weeks showed us our little bean was coming on well and things continued to progress including my 24 hour morning sickness. I was losing weight and couldn't keep a thing down. Evenings were particularly bad but I didn't care. It was reassuring.

After a small bleed, we were scanned at 10 weeks for reassurance and our little teddy bear made a spectacular appearance. Possible future gymnast perhaps? They were twirling and turning the whole time.

Things quietened down and we waited patiently for our 12 week scan. It came around quickly and we were relieved to see our baby waving at us and measuring perfectly for dates.

Things were going well and baby was coming on a treat. We were delighted but still very apprehensive. Molly had also been measuring perfectly at this stage so we knew we had a long way to go. Our next scan was booked in for 15 weeks.

15 weeks arrived (it was a Wednesday). Baby was measuring slightly behind but the sonographer wasn't worried and said it was normal to be out by a few days. The worry was in the back of my mind though. We went round to see the consultant to make sure all was going well with the medication. He offered extra scans for reassurance at a community clinic every Friday which we gratefully accepted. We went 2 days later for the first of those scans and a registrar scanned us on a very old machine. She was concerned about the fluid level but, after looking at our scan photos from the big machine from the Wednesday she said they were the same and not to worry about it if the hospital hadn't mentioned it. So we tried to put it out of our minds.

On the Sunday I had a major bleed so we went down to the hospital. A doppler let us hear a nice strong heartbeat and put my mind at rest a bit. A scan was also arranged for the coming Wednesday when I would be 16 weeks. This was when our world started to crumble all over again.

The scan on Wednesday showed that there was no amniotic fluid and the blood flow through the cord (EDF) was absent. We were devastated and could not believe that it was happening all over again. The doctors advised us that our baby would die within days and that they would scan us weekly until the inevitable happened. We met with our consultant the following day. He thought it was the same thing again and told us that this was the first time the hospital had dealt with anyone with MPFD. In fact, they hadn't heard of it before and the treatment we were on had been their best guess.

17 weeks: Scan showed baby still had strong heartbeat although growth had majorly slowed down. However, some small pockets of fluid had appeared and EDF was present. This gave us a tiny sliver of hope and the doctors doubled the amount of clexane I was taking.

By this time I was in contact with a fellow silent mum in England who had also experienced multiple loss in practically identical circumstances. We realised we had the same condition! This wonderful person had already done so much research and gave us hope that whilst it might be too late for this little one, we still had a future. There were treatments available - we provided our doctors with all the research.

18 weeks: My bump was popping out and growing well, I was still being sick. Scan showed our little star was continuing to fight hard. There had been some growth but the small pockets of amniotic fluid were gone although the EDF was still present.

19 weeks: Little fighter continuing to baffle the doctors and heartbeat still going strong. Growth minimal, EDF still present. Bump growing, baby kicking regularly.

20 weeks: Our little one still not giving up without a fight. EDF still present, no growth. We spent the weekend on the coast, remembering Molly on her first birthday and anniversary. We still couldn't believe we were going to lose our rainbow baby and we had such a horrendous sense of déjà vu as it was all happening at the same time of year again.

21 weeks: Heartbeat still there but EDF now absent again. I was advised to stop all the medication.

I woke up a few days later on 2nd May and knew our little one was gone. I had movement the night before but I knew when I woke up. A scan later that morning confirmed our little one had finally lost their battle. I was booked in for induction 2 days later.

4th May 2012, 22 weeks pregnant: After 6 hours of labour, Grace came silently into the world in the same room as her big sister was born. She weighed exactly the same as Molly, perfection in miniature. She looked so serious and deep in thought in her forever sleep. She would have been our little thinker.

I wasn't so scared this time. I held her. I looked at every part of her, including her tiny feet. I didn't want the same regrets as I had the last time. We had little clothes for her and teddies and blankets. We cuddled her for hours.

We kept Grace with us all night and her grandparents came to meet her. A bright, lone star also appeared in the sky outside the window. I think Molly had come for her sister.

The next day, we said our goodbyes. It took us a long time to walk away. Once again, I found this the hardest thing to do. There is nothing worse than walking away and leaving your child behind. It is the most horrendous thing I have ever experienced. I don't know how I did it either time. I don't know how my legs carried me out. I know that each time I did it I left a piece of my heart behind. I'll never get those pieces back.


Tests on the placenta have confirmed that, like Molly, the placenta was again attacked due to the condition MPFD. They are still not 100% certain of what causes the MPFD to happen, possibly an immune response, possibly an as-yet undiagnosed thrombophilia issue. They are not committing to either school of thought. What they have said is that the condition is aggressive and recurrent and they are struggling to find anyone else with as severe a condition. We are a unique oddity.

So... they have agreed to the treatment plan we have researched as long as we go into this with eyes open and accept that we are now sailing in unchartered waters with no guarantees. This treatment will include aspirin, high dose folic acid, heparin, steroids and Intralipids.

So we move forward with a quiet optimism and a realistic pessimism.


Update Jan 2013: Despite the new treatment plan, we went on to lose another baby at 11 weeks in December 2012. You can read more about this in my blog post 'Clara: When loss keeps on happening.'

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Clara: Massive Perivillous Fibrinoid Deposition

I wanted to write a short post about my horrid condition. It is so rare.

When you google it, various medical documents come up but there is no human face to it. Well, that's not strictly true as it is now mentioned on the Silent Love blog following my contact with the blog's author. That post now appears in the google search and it is my hope that once this blog goes live, anyone else searching for this may come across this post. Any pooling of information and resources is a step forward.

Massive Perivillous Fibrinoid Deposition (MPFD & sometimes referred to as Massive Perivillous Fibrin Deposition)… basically my placentas become clogged with blood clots and fibroids. These affect the function of the placenta and ultimately causes it to fail as it struggles to support my growing babies. There are different schools of thought. It could be due to an as-yet-undiagnosed blood-clotting condition or it could be due to an immune response. My bloods have consistently come back clear and we are of the belief that it is an immune response that causes this. My immune system is attacking my placentas causing the clots and fibroids to form and ultimately rendering my placenta useless. My girls fought hard but to no avail. My body let them down (despite being on aspirin and heparin when pregnant with Grace).

We are now pushing for a treatment plan that has worked for others with similar conditions. This involves aspirin, heparin, steroids and some sort of immune infusion therapy (IVIG or Intralipids, neither of which are available on the NHS). Our consultants have warned us that we are now sailing in unchartered waters. Time will tell.

If anyone comes across this post in the hunt for more information on MPFD, please feel free to contact me via the blog email address.

You can read more about my journey here Clara: My Story and here Clara: When Loss Keeps On Happening. This gives updates on our journey using the treatment plan we fought for which unfortunately did not work for us.