I promised myself I wouldn't think about all the what-ifs and should-haves but I can't help myself.
You should be 6 months old by now. We should be embarking on your weaning journey. I should be getting used to a little more sleep and starting to enjoy watching your personality develop. You should be sitting up unsupported and able to hold things with a fist-grip. Perhaps you'd have a tooth or two? You should definitely be able to smile and laugh at me and Daddy and your big sister. I should still be at home, not back at work.
But things didn't work out, did they? Despite my best efforts, nature got in the way.
I think back to this time last year. I was 14 weeks pregnant. I had tried hard to conceive you, wanted you so much and was so happy to be expecting you. You were still our secret, although a few people suspected we had news to break! Your EDD was 12/12/12, which would have been a cool birthdate!
I miss you so much. It has only been seven months but it seems like a lifetime ago that you were with me. Sometimes, I wonder if you were ever here at all.
I want the world to know about you, yet don't feel the need to talk about you with everyone I meet. I understand now why bereaved parents don't tend to talk openly about stillbirth - it's the look in other people's eyes, the delayed "Oh, I'm sorry" to which I usually quietly reply "It's OK". But it's not OK. It's far from OK. It's terrible.
I don't want other families to go through this experience but I know that they will. Every day in the UK, 17 babies are stillborn or die shortly after birth. How can we stop this from happening? No-one could have stopped it from happening to you.
I will never get over losing you. My heart is forever broken.
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