Day Three Before #CaptureYourGrief

I can’t really remember my “before” life. I’m not particularly good with dates or even the year any more. My brain struggles to comprehend much before losing Melody. Damaged even. 
I do remember the innocence and naivety I once had. Once 12 weeks had arrived I was allowed to get excited, all that was left to hear about was the gender of our much wanted baby. 
Then the newly “internet discovered” viability milestone, you know the one that if baby is born at 24 weeks, all will still be ok with the world. 
Receiving a t-shirt with hand and feet, because it was something funky for baby – Melody to look at once she had grown, maybe even use as a comforter. Bump pictures…a diary for her life, before she even arrived. 
Of course we got to 24 weeks, we had made it, we would be taking our baby home…no matter what…
She was born at 26 weeks fighting, screaming and kicking. She had an 80% chance of survival..we’d be ok. 
Even at three weeks old we naively believed that her discharge date, now set in stone be the one, where we’d say good bye to the hospital…. 
But it wasn’t even the 5 weeks of hope, the 5 weeks of life.
Not even on the proper statistics of why she died. 
Innocence Smashed.
Warmth of what I used to be, a carer, something I can no longer do or face. 
I was normal, normal family life, no disputes, no silence. 
Just normality…
Gone in 15 minutes. 
The picture of the three of us was when I was about 10 weeks pregnant with Melody at LegoLand, having an amazing time, through the sickness. 
Of course my bump picture. 
Having kangaroo care at 16 days old, she adored this, so did I. 
The final, live picture we have the only time her brother saw her out of the incubator. 
Less than 24 hours later, our lives changed..
I wish I had longer with her…
Broken But Not Beaten.

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