On Halloween morning last year, I had the wonderful news that at last, at last, a little baby brother or sister was on the way for Jessica.
This week, the week of the summer solstice, I should be awaiting her birth, if not already cradling her in my arms.
Today she was due. I would be wondering if every twinge, every niggle was the start. The clothes would have been washed and dried in the glorious sunshine, ready and waiting.
But instead, my baby girl left me and went to heaven in November.
And so, here I am. I feel so, so alone today.
My mother-in-law gave me a beautiful glass butterfly last week, as she knew that this day was coming and would be hard.
But apart from that, silence today. And it makes me feel like my baby didn’t matter and that I don’t count, and that is a miserable way to feel.
I know everyone is different, they feel differently, they need different things…but please, if someone you know is unlucky enough to lose a baby, please remember when they were due, and remember them, let them know you are thinking of them.