‘V’ Day

Today would have been ‘V’ day.  The day from which the chances of survival should you give birth are 50% and rising.

Ben and I have got back in to a routine since the miscarriage.  We’re back at work.  We laugh with my daughter.  Our minds are no longer completely consumed with thoughts of our baby and our hearts are no longer completely consumed with grief.  And yet we both struggle to come to terms with the fact that I won’t be giving birth in March.

I cry almost every day for the baby we lost.  Sometimes a silent tear on the train when I see something that triggers a thought.  Sometimes sobs that rock my body as I have a moment of realisation that our baby isn’t coming.  The grief has become less obvious to everyone, even me, but it is still there, silently breaking my heart over and over again.  The one thing that saddens me the most is that we don’t know nor did we chose the final resting place of our baby…

We had the post mortem results a couple of weeks ago.  There is seemingly no reason that our baby died.  It was “just one of those things”.  It is good news that there wasn’t anything wrong, it means the likelihood of it happening again is less.  It doesn’t make it any easier to come to terms with though.  If there were a reason it would be easier to understand why we’ll never get to hold our baby.

Our baby was a boy. My arms ache to hold him, I long to see his face and to feel his sweet breath on my cheek.  We named him Henry.  Henry Harrison-Chu. Image

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