Alexis and Charlotte share how when their son Sage died at 22 weeks his loss was labelled a miscarriage but that this didn't reflect their reality, because they gave birth to their son who was fully formed, fully loved, and very real. 

Sage was the couple's second loss following IVF as they lost their first pregnancy at 10 weeks. They describe how they're not the same people they were before and how their son Sage is missed every second of every day. 

Please be aware that Alexis has chosen to share pictures of her son Sage and Sage’s feet with her story. 

We didn’t arrive at pregnancy by chance. For us, it started with IVF. As a same sex couple, nothing about this journey was simple. Every step was intentional, but we wanted this so much. 

When we got pregnant the first time, it felt like everything we’d been through had led us there. But at 10 weeks, we lost that pregnancy. A simple reassurance scan gave us the worst news we could have gotten. There was no longer a heartbeat. It was heartbreaking, but we kept going. We still had embryos, and we still had hope. 

The second time, things felt different, but also not. After loss, pregnancy is full of anxiety. Every twinge, every scan, you’re waiting for something to go wrong. It’s hard to relax into it. But we reached our 12-week scan, and everything was perfect. Then the 20-week scan, and everything was perfect again.

 For the first time, we started to believe this was real. We let ourselves relax a little. We talked about the future properly. We pictured our life with our son, made plans, imagined who he might be. He was active, kicking away daily and we bonded with him. We were so excited. 

Then at 22 weeks, everything changed. 

I woke up in pain early one morning and we called maternity triage. We were told not to worry, to only come in if there was bleeding. We trusted that advice. Less than two hours later, my waters broke and my cord prolapsed. Something I later found out was so rare, but reduced our son’s chance of survival even further. 

I was rushed by ambulance into hospital, to find that he was still alive and his heart was still beating. But he was slowly passing away. His heartbeat dropped and he died on the screen in front of us. I was told I needed to be induced to deliver him, and our son, Sage, was born too soon. 

Nothing prepares you for being told your baby has died and then having to give birth to him anyway. You don’t expect to go through labour knowing your baby isn’t going to cry. You don’t expect to arrive at hospital pregnant and leave without your baby. 

After he was born, things didn’t stop there. I experienced a severe postpartum haemorrhage and nearly lost my life as well. It added another layer of trauma to something that already felt impossible to process. My body was trying to recover from everything it had been through, while we were just trying to understand how our world had fallen apart. 

Saying goodbye to Sage was the hardest thing we have ever been through. We spent two days with him in the hospital — time we are so grateful for — and we have so many photos and videos of him. We hold onto those so tightly. But no matter how many memories we have, nothing will bring him back. And that is something we are still trying to come to terms with. 

What makes it even harder to process is that at 22 weeks, it’s still labelled as a miscarriage. But to us, that doesn’t reflect our reality at all. We gave birth to our son. He was fully formed, fully loved, and very real. 

Everything about our lives has changed. The future we had imagined — the one we had worked so hard for through IVF — disappeared overnight. It’s hard to make sense of a world that just carries on as normal when yours has completely stopped. People talk about plans, about the future, about everyday things, and you’re just trying to get through the day. 

We are not the same people we were before. We are broken. There is sadness, obviously. But there’s also anger. Not at one specific person — just anger that this happened to us. That after everything it took to get here, this is how it ended. Our son, who had an entire future ahead of him, was suddenly gone. 

We miss Sage every second of every day. He was so wanted, long before he was here. And he will always be our son.

Alexis and Charlotte share more about their journey being Sage's mummies and life after loss on their TikTok account @alexis.charlotte.ivf.