Meike and Mary-Rose’s Story
“Because Mary-Rose deserved a chance. She deserved to grow up. She deserved to be here.”
I never felt strongly about having children when I was younger. That changed when I met the love of my life, David, my now husband.
He had always wanted children, and when we met, something changed in me too. I suddenly felt this huge amount of love that I wanted to give to another human being – a little bit of him and a little bit of me.
After we got married, we decided to have a year of just us before starting to try for a baby, fully expecting it to take a few months.
Little did we know that just one cycle after removing my coil, we would see the famous two lines on 30 August 2025.
I was pregnant.
We were surprised, excited, shocked and completely over the moon.
I loved being pregnant. I loved feeling a little human growing inside me, watching my belly grow and, eventually, feeling those first kicks.
Our little girl was going to be called Mary-Rose. We had actually chosen her name a year before we even started trying. David’s grandmother was Maria and mine is Rose, so it felt like the perfect combination to honour both our families.
Apart from a small bleed at eight weeks caused by a subchorionic haematoma, my pregnancy was thankfully uneventful. The haematoma resolved, and our 20-week scan showed a healthy heartbeat, organs and growth.
We were SO excited.
We travelled to Germany and the US for Christmas to see our families. David’s mum had organised a baby shower, and our Christmas presents included baby clothes and stuffed animals.
Mary-Rose was incredibly active, constantly kicking – especially at night. David sang Christmas songs to her and felt her kick every day.
I loved every second of it.
“I had no idea it was amniotic fluid”
Shortly before travelling back to the UK, I started having very watery, frequent discharge. I didn’t think anything of it. Discharge is completely normal during pregnancy, particularly during the second trimester.
I had no idea that it was amniotic fluid.
On 2 January, I returned to the UK and went straight to Chelsea & Westminster Hospital for a triage appointment because I wanted reassurance about the discharge.
It turned out to be the worst day of my life.
A urine test initially looked fine, and I was almost sent home. I had been OBVIOUSLY googling my symptoms, though, and knew that a speculum examination could check whether I was leaking amniotic fluid. I pushed to have the test done.
I am so glad I did.
My consultant performed the test, and the room went silent.
I will never forget him looking at me with a very concerned face and saying:
“You are definitely leaking amniotic fluid… we should probably have a chat about next steps.”
I was 22 weeks and one day pregnant.
My husband was still in the US. My family was in Germany. And suddenly I was being told that I would probably have to give birth that day or the next.
The hardest days of our lives
We were told about the risks of continuing the pregnancy for both me and Mary-Rose. For me, there was a risk of placental abruption and sepsis. For Mary-Rose, there was the devastating reality that, at 22 weeks, her chances of survival were basically zero.
We had conversations with NICU nurses about what her life could potentially look like if we were able to keep her inside for longer.
But we never had to make that decision ourselves. On 5 January, my contractions started. Mary-Rose had decided for us.
A few hours later, I gave birth to our beautiful little girl.
Afterwards, I had complications with my placenta and had to undergo surgery to have it manually removed.
We finally went home without our baby.
“But there is no baby”
That was one of the hardest parts.
You leave hospital without the tiny person you had spent months preparing for, while your body is still going through everything that comes after giving birth. Your hormones are wild. Your body hurts. Your milk comes in. You bleed. Your hair falls out.
But there is no baby.
The first few weeks were surprisingly okay, considering what we had been through. I was very open about what had happened and immediately knew that I wanted to do something positive in Mary-Rose’s memory.
That was where Borne came in.
I signed up for a Solo Hyrox to raise money and awareness, and in May I raised almost £6,000 for Borne.
For me, fundraising has been about much more than raising money. It has given me something positive to focus on and, most importantly, a way to keep Mary-Rose’s memory alive.
Our journey after Mary-Rose
As the months went on, life actually became harder. What followed was another difficult chapter involving retained placenta tissue, surgery, months without my period, countless tests and eventually a diagnosis of Asherman’s syndrome – scarring of the uterus that can affect fertility and the ability to carry a pregnancy.
I have since had further treatment to remove the scarring, but our journey is far from over. We still don’t know whether I will be able to carry another pregnancy, or what the future will look like for us.
There are so many unknowns.
But there are also things I do know.
Why I want to share Mary-Rose’s story
I had never heard of PPROM before it happened to me. I didn’t know that your waters could break this early. I didn’t know that you could be completely unaware that you were leaking amniotic fluid. I didn’t know that something could go so terribly wrong after a pregnancy that had felt completely normal.
PPROM affects around 3% of pregnancies, yet there are still so many unanswered questions about why it happens and how it could be prevented.
That is why I want to share Mary-Rose’s story. Not because I want people to feel sorry for us.
But because I want people to know about PPROM. I want more awareness. I want more research. And I want, one day, fewer families to experience what we have experienced.
Because Mary-Rose deserved a chance. She deserved to grow up. She deserved to be here.
And although she only had 22 weeks and one day, she changed our lives forever. I will always be Mary-Rose’s mum, and I will always carry her with me.
Our journey to having a baby will likely look different, long and unconventional. But we are strong, we have each other, and the love we have for each other is endless.
And I am not done raising awareness.
The Solo Hyrox in May was just the beginning. I have another one planned for December.
