I found out that I was pregnant at around 5 weeks and instantly it was all I could think about. I woke up from dreaming about it, I'd go to work thinking about when my 12 week scan would be, I'd commute home wondering when I should order my "baby on board" badge. I felt sick and exhausted but I didn't care because it would all be worth it. And then, at just under 7 weeks, I started bleeding.
Even as the panic set in on the way to the early pregnancy unit, even as I lay there waiting for a scan, part of me believed that everything would be okay. I wasn't prepared for the physical or emotional aftermath, the pain of the bleeding, the sheer emptiness and the dreadful sense of loss. Nor for the difficult task of carrying on like everything was normal around colleagues and friends who never knew about the amazing life growing inside me, so couldn't know the silent grief that I was going through. So this is for the little life that wasn't, the first born who didn't quite make it, but who will always, always live on in my heart x
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