Missing Monty

This morning, my daughter brought a book into the bathroom when I was in the shower. "Mummy, read the names" she said.

I promised I would read it with her when I got out of the shower, dried and dressed. I kept my promise.

Snuggled up, comfy on my bed together, she handed me the book. "Mummy, read the names" she said again.

I looked at the cover: "What's Inside Your Tummy, Mummy?"

We hadn't read this book in months...

I asked her what the book was called. "All about how babies grow in mummies' tummies" she said "but Monty isn't in your tummy - he died in the picture."

I read the book. She asked me to read it twice more. I did. We looked at the pictures. We practised saying some of the words: 'umbilical cord', 'embryo', 'size of a pumpkin!'.

I said that I felt sad that Monty had died and she didn't have her brother to play with. She said she was sad too.

I asked if she would like it if mummy and daddy tried again to give her a brother or sister. She said yes. I said "We'll see..."

Then we came downstairs and she took the photo from the windowsill. "This is baby Monty" she said "and this is the bear. I want it." I got the bear, originally bought as a toy for him but subsequently given to her as a 'big sister present from her brother'. She put the bear and photo next to each other on a chair.

Then we made Mothers' Day cards for Granny and Grandma.