Everything is different.

To day is the day, I have to remember the loss of our girl. A date which should never have even been in our radar, in our calendar.
April Fool’s Day.

I did everything I could to keep her safe. I stopped smoking when I got my positive. I refused runny eggs, didn’t eat a thing that could hurt her.
I rested when I was told to, when things were going wrong with my body, I did everything in my power to keep her safe.
She didn’t get to come home.
We never once caused her pain or let her suffer. All we ever did was love her.
Expressed milk so she could have the best start in life, became anxious when she had to have separate feeds.
She still didn’t get to come home.

Four years ago,at 930am. Not only did our baby die,we of course lost her future.
First steps, first day at school, finding out who she would have been. I still can’t fathom that I don’t know my own daughter’s eye colour.
I’m told not to focus on things like that. I’m not. It’s just one of the many things we don’t know about her.
We’re allowed to wonder.

We encountered secondary loss too. Family,friends,career everything changed.
It’s been the most challenging thing I’ve come through. When at times people call people like me brave,but truth be told I didn’t have a choice. Neither of us did. She may not have been here very long but she still mattered.
We’ve had to get our heads around her dying,then we had to focus on why people walked away, turned their backs…changed.

Like I said yesterday we weren’t the only ones who’ve changed.
Secondary losses for me has been incredibly hard to deal with, somewhat ashamed to admit being let down by the very people who are supposed to pick you up when you fall. We didn’t just fall…

Everything has changed.

The realisation that for some,for outsiders looking in grief is boring,and ugly. It isn’t meant to be anything else.

Since losing her we’ve had our hands held tight by the people who shine the brightest. Particularly Melody’s Nanny. Never ever failing to mention her.
Our circle of friends have become tighter.
We walked away from that hospital dazed,numb.
Not knowing what would happen from there.
It was scary.

If I were to go back to my early days self, I’d remind myself it is OK to breathe. It is definitely OK to cry. Whether it in public or at home. The only people who matter in your personal loss is you.
I regret wasting my early grief on people who quite clearly, didn’t have the patience for us.
My energy was wasted.
What ever you are feeling is normal…it is normal to you. Nobody can tell you how to behave,or to judge what you do.
None of this is normal.

We’re here.
Still standing.
Still breathing.

Yesterday,on the anniversary of her final good day,we took to the beach,remembered her as we always do when we’re close to the beach.

Today we visited her,gave her some flowers and a minion.
We had lunch. And smiled.

I love that little girl so much, she’s my 3rd baby and always will be. Nothing can ever take those 5 weeks away from us.

I wish she was here.
Forever our baby she’ll be.

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