When Rory died I found myself clinging onto everything to do with him (this is still the case); he has a full memory box, numerous decorations on the Christmas tree, photos in the house, hand prints, print jewellery, pandora charms with meaning, and countless other things I’ve not mentioned. I think this happens as there are no new memories to make and share so you have to make the best of what you do have. There was no 5 month old at Christmas and in our little family there never will be.
You also remember dates; IVF milestones, pregnancy test date, dates from the hospital, etc. Rory was cremated on my birthday and I’m glad we share that special date although many told me to change it.
My first thought on waking this morning was that it was the 29th December and I had a feeling it was our 12 week scan date; a quick glance at the scan photo in Rory’s corner confirmed my thought. This was unexpected as this date wasn’t imprinted on my brain like the others but yet deep down I remembered. The scan had gone well and we came home with lots of fuzzy pictures to add to all the early scans we’d already had. We were excited that everything looked well.
It is now I realise that the milestones will stay with me always; I love this but yet hate it all at the same time. The dates are my connection with my baby but they are painful and ones like this remind me of a time when life was different, happy and carefree – the life we should still be living.
Today I miss the life we should have had.
Note: this post has been amended as apparently other people’s feelings are more important than mine.