OK, it was not actually a stillbirth, she was born alive and with her eyes open according to the midwife, I was too terrified to look at her.
12 years ago last month, when I was 30 weeks pregnant with my 2nd DD (DD1 was 4 and we had been trying for a sibling for over 2 years before we succeeded), we discovered that the baby had a lethal abnormality.
This was after a few weeks of continually turning up at the maternity ward complaining I could not feel any movement, they would strap me to a monitor, tell me the heart was very strong, now go away and stop being so anxious etc. It was actually discovered when an astute midwife saw a ripple when she strapped me to a monitor meaning I had way too much amniotic fluid, an emergency scan was done and my consultant told me that there was a 'quality of life' problem but it was not 'life limiting' but I would have to go to London to the Fetal Medicine Centre for a full assessment. This was despite me having all the routine scans and tests throughout the pregnancy and an amniocentesis at 20 weeks because talipes was picked up. I can still remember the agony of those 2 weeks waiting to find out if there was anything else but we were given the all clear and told it was just talipes and had discussions with the pediatric orthopaedic surgeon as to the baby needing an op shortly after birth.
On the way into London, I was thinking, 'shit, I can't deal with a disabled baby' but by the time we got there, I had it clear in my head that a disabled baby was better than no baby at all and we would cope.
At the Fetal Medicine Centre, we were told the baby had a very rare symdrome (1 in 10,000 ffs why me?) and could die at any time in the womb, during the birth or up to 6 months afterwards. I was heavily pressured into aborting but I refused. The doctor actually said to me 'you do realise that this child's bones will probably break as she comes down the birth canal and she will be in terrible pain, if she survives the birth, she will be in terrible pain'. I am afraid I still could not consent to them injecting a needle through my stomach and into her heart to stop her heart beating while she writhed around (my consultant told me he was very glad I did not consent as he would have found it very hard to do).
I was refused a c-section (as I may experience complications) and an induction as 'it probably would'nt work' and was told that as I had chosen not to abort, I would have to wait for spontaneous labour to start but if I got to 37 weeks they would do something. I cannot describe the feeling of carrying a baby that you know is going to die, I wanted her out so it would all end but I did'nt want her to die. It was hell with people not knowing and asking me if I was looking forward to the birth.
I researched the syndrome she had at length even calling the John Hopkins Hospital in the US and faxing them the UK prognosis. Everyone I spoke to agreed that it was correct and babies with this syndrome did not survive.
A week later, I went into spontaneous labour after ignoring the twinges for hours. I was refused an epidural to start with 
and had to have one while in fully established labour which was traumatic enough as I was so tense it took 5 tries to get it in with the anaethetist threatening to not do unless I 'relaxed'. It felt like he was hammering nails into my back.
This is the thing though, when my waters burst like a machine gun firing, the terror I felt was unbelievable. I was shaking, freezing cold and absolutely hysterical. I think I realised it was happening and I could'nt stop it. THIS IS THE SAME FEELING OF TERROR I HAVE CONSTANTLY NOW, it's like I am reliving it day after day even while doing the bloody washing up.
A doctor was called in as the force of my waters breaking meant that the umblical cord could be seen as it had prolapsed. The doctor had not read my notes and asked why I was crying when I was about to have a precious baby, very rudely in fact. She tried to force my legs into stirrups despite my protestations and was shouted at the midwife. DD2 was born very quickly then, the epidural must have worn off as it was really painful. The midwife tried to give her to me but I shouted 'take it away' as I was expecting her to look like a monster. The 2nd midwife cleaned her and checked her heart, shook her head to signal that she was dead and then brought her to me. I took her only to see that she was absolutely beautiful. She was not malformed at all apart from having rigid legs and arms. She had loads of hair and weighed 3lb 3oz. She was the spit of her elder sister. The midwife washed her, she had meconium sticking out of her bottom, that really upset me. She was dressed in way too big clothes we had bought and held by us. After about an hour, another midwife brought in a large metal box with a tiny moses basket inside. I had been told that I could keep Mia with me for the night, but they wanted to take her. They put the metal box on my bed and put her in it. It was horrifying but I was calm. I was told I was serene but I think I was actually in deep shock.
They then took me for a bath. I specifically asked them not to put Johnsons Baby Bath in the bath as the smell of that would have tipped me over the edge. They did put it in the bath. I had then had to stay overnight in the hospital (in a single room on my own on the maternity ward) and the the next morning walk down the corridor hearing babies scream and seeing newborns held by their mothers. I cried on the way home but pulled myself together at the front door as DD1 was inside. I have no recollection of what we told her. Although she had told my sister the night before at around the time Mia was born, 'my sister's gone now'. I have never really believed she said that though. I refused anti d's and counselling was never mentioned.
My milk came in a few days later. I can remember sitting in the bath, my breasts leaking and so painful, feeling so empty like something should be in my arms. That was the worst part, the 'empty arms'.
Funeral was held. I think most people did not think it was that big of an event as she was born early and I was later told that it was'nt like losing a 'real' baby.
3 months later after moving house (a month after Mia died), the house we bought when I was heavily pregnant and because we wanted a bigger house for a bigger family and with the room I'd already pictured as a pink princess nursery for Mia, DD1 got very ill.
Vomiting, stomach pain, not eating, very lethargic. I took her to the GP 4 times in 3 days and he insisted she was constipated. I put suppositries up her bum as I had been told to even though she had had diarrohea ffs. I eventually took her straight to A&E and after a 3 hour wait while she was laying in my arms groaning, and after I had had to cause a massive fuss to get her seen, a doctor came to look at her, quite pissed off I had kicked off. One feel of DD's stomach and the room was full of doctors and nurses. I remember three of them holding her down while she was screaming because they were trying to put a tube down her nose through to the back of the throat. She kept pulling it out. I had to walk out of the room as I could'nt bear to see it. 'D'H has never let me forget that. We were then blue lighted in an ambulance to a bigger hospital as they thought DD had a bowel obstruction or a stomach tumour. All the way there I had the terrifying feeling that she was going to die too just like DD2. It was later discovered that it was appendicitis that had developed into peritonitis as it had been left so long. We were told when she was taken into surgery that it was a 50/50 survival risk as they did not know it was appendicitis then. The 5 hour wait was the longest of my life.
Within a week of DD coming home from hospital, I discovered I was pregnant again. Twins were confirmed at 12 weeks. I was numb and totally in shock but I pulled myself together and got on with it working until I was 35 weeks. It was very hard financially and I had no family/friend support at all. H worked long hours and nights so I had to do all the nightfeeds, getting up to get DD to school etc on my own.
My extreme anxiety surfaced when my twins were 3 and we had just moved abroad to start a new life. I made the very stupid decision to have an abortion at 6 weeks as I just could not cope with having another child (although I did have another 5 years later 
).
I did not link it to any past trauma (I had a very traumatic childhood as well), just thought I was going nuts. That 'new life' ended with us having to come back here penniless a year later and I have been suffering ever since.
Could this really be PTSD? I have dissociated so much from myself that it has been really hard to believe that this stuff has happened to ME, both stuff I have detailed above and childhood stuff. I was even raped and left with a STD when I was 22 but never thought of it as rape until the last few years. I am pretty sure I was drugged as I could not move or scream when I came to and found this 'man' on top of me. I cant remember how I got there or how I came to wake up in my own bed.
It's my fault I have ended up like this isn't it because I just let it all happen?