Screw you Kate Middleton. Screw you Kim Kardashian.
You lucky girls are having your babies now. I feel like I’m in the BUPA commercial. You know the one that suggests people ‘find a healthier you?’
You see, I should have been having my baby too. I know it happens to so many women; an unspoken miscarriage in the first trimester, an end date in sight but never realised.
I lost ‘Joy’ at 11 weeks, hust seven days before that miraculous 12 week scan. After the announcements of Kate and Kim bumps I thought I would be living out my pregnancies alongside them.
But that wasn’t to be.
It took 11 months for Joy to be convinced of joining us; if it took one month longer we would have considered IVF.
She was the much-longed-for second baby that would have completed our family. Yes, we have one babe who is on her way to three. I know that I am incredibly lucky and count my blessings every day.
Even though she was just the size of a lime, Joy wasn’t just a thing. She a person who died.
My grief has bubbled under the surface even when I think it has been addressed.
As baby news, baby bumps and baby arrivals surround me, the sadness that comes with my body taking so long to mourn part of itself is again confronted with not having that baby all over again this week.
I’m desperately pleased for everyone who can have their dreams come true. But when I go AWOL on 24 July it will be because I cannot tell the world that I’m desperate for that child. Wouldn’t it be easier to shout and tell the universe? And not have to look away with tears in eyes when I see reports of a baby called North.
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