I haven’t had time to blog for days – life has been busy and Tibbons has taken against bedtime so evenings have been spent in his room trying to coax him to sleep or else on the sofa in his none-too-sleepy company.
I have a few posts written in my notebook that accompanies me on my commute, but it’s late and I don’t feel like typing up words I’ve already put down on a page. Especially as they’re not so relevant now – you see, last week we found out I was pregnant, exciting and welcome news. But then I was quite poorly with a 40 degree fever and generally run down. And then the spotting started. And then the bleeding started and this evening I’m pretty sure this short chapter was drawn to a close. Tomorrow we go for a scan and I expect to be told that I have miscarried our baby.
I have wondered if this is too personal a post for the blog – certainly it is in stark contrast to my usual, more light-hearted and humorous style. There’s nothing funny about miscarriage. But it’s life, and it’s real and given how few people in my world will ever know about this baby, I’d like to mark somewhere my love for this child, one who I will never know and never get to see grow, but who in a remarkably short time nevertheless brought joy and excitement and was a cause of happiness and celebration.
And of course, it’s not like before – now we are blessed with Tibbons, he is a source of comfort and a reminder of how much we have, but also of what we could have had, and what this baby will not have.