Eleven months my darling boy

Yes, we are here, eleven months since those precious four hours when we felt like parents and held you and stroked your wavy black hair. I can't believe we are back in October again. Back, where this time last year, we were so full of optimism, brimming with happiness and constantly washing tiny baby gros. Exactly this date last year, was my last day of work. I walked out, slightly stunned that I was on leave for a year, and made my way into a new life. One that was meant to be so different to what we have endured. It's almost too much to comprehend, how times can change like that. How we didn't know, back then, what we have painfully felt now.
This month is especially confusing because we do have hope, tentative as it is, that life has happiness ahead. There is a little girl growing and kicking and making her presence increasingly known. She isn't aware of the thunderstorm that precedes her. She's just doing her thing, and thanfully, all looks normal and healthy.
So we have another life change ahead (we hope), and so much change to digest, that is leaves me feeling discombobulated. I have very sad moments, next to potentially exciting ones, and my poor tired brain (and heart) don't know which way to turn.
Well, I do know that turning to my darling husband is still, despite everything, as good as life can get. I let him hold me in his arms and I know that everything I have in my soul, he shares in his, and we both feel supported and united and just so.
I have no idea how we will feel on this day next month. What we do know, is that we will sit by Bear's tree and think about those crazy hours when his cheeks looked peachy and we had our son.

The never-ending worry

I didn't know how to follow up the last post. Do I wait again until the end of October, so that I just remember Bear, or do I let people in on the here and now? The journey of worry.
I have found the perfect answer. Another Mummy's words. She lost her son Jacopo last year in her 35th week of pregnancy. One month ago, her precious daughter arrived. Screaming and healthy.
She's commented on my blog over the months, and got in touch again when she saw our news. I, in turn, then clicked back on to her story. It arrived after a couple of difficult days. I cried at every entry. I feel her words. I feel her absolute, constant fear. She's had the perfect outcome, and I want to follow in her joy. She wrote this a couple of months back.

'I feel you growing. I can feel you are getting stronger. Don't give up my love. I don't trust my body but I trust you. You'll let me know if something is wrong, if you don't get enough from me and if you are not fine. I'm listening, any second of my day, any single heartbeat of my heart which rings with yours.'

This is just one of many potent, honest entries. Have a read. It's ok, there's a happy ending. Thank you Jacopo and Bianca's Mummy.



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