#misCOURAGE story, 12/05/2017, by anonymous
We lost our first little boy at 20 weeks just over 4 years ago.
At the time it was the most traumatic thing I've ever experienced to watch my wife deliver him, she was so brave.
We both didn't want to see (the doctors said it would be upsetting because of the problem he had) and I remember lying across her holding her and saying "it's done, it's done", I suppose I was trying to protect her in my own daft way.
She is my hero.
We have had another little boy since which is just magical, but we never forget him, he has a name that only me and his mum know.
There wasn't a funeral but we know the day he was cremated, and where his ashes are, he has a few little items in our house that only me and his mum know represent him, so he's with us all the time.
I suppose my message to others is:
The pain comes and goes and always will, and dad's can cry too, don't fight it if you think it will help, it does for me.
I get some comfort from the pain now, it means although I never met him, I love him with all my heart, it's crazy but sometimes I'll be in tears from nowhere and I find myself saying out loud "why are you hurting me today?"
In those are the moments I feel closest to him.
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