When you lose a baby there are so many dates. This time last year I found out I was pregnant with Henry. I wasn’t excited, I wasn’t happy, I was as scared as fuck and quite rightly so. I miss him, I wish he could have stayed. It was however the first and only time I took a test as I had a feeling I was pregnant. With previous cycles I’d tested because I had to, or I hadn’t needed to test anyway as my period had already arrived. With our successes I had no symptoms and found out by blood test at the clinic (I was too scared to test at home) but with Henry I knew and the symptoms were there – early waking, insomnia, nausea, thirst. I tested four days early and there it was – two pink lines and a whole bucket of fear.

I was talking to Matt tonight about the dates coming up – March is Rory’s anniversary, April holds his cremation date, in May we found out Henry was poorly and in June we lost him, July was Henry’s cremation and Rory’s due date… We concluded that the only months without a loss pregnancy or loss triggers are August and September (December is also a trigger free one but it’s Christmas and that is full of awfulness these days). October of course is the month we had Rory’s IVF cycle and it was the month of Henry’s due date, November I found out I was pregnant with Rory and it was the month the trauma of someone else’s pregnancy hit. January is when we had Henry’s embryo transfer… 

So there it is, two months out of twelve I’m not on edge waiting for a date and waves of grief to arrive. Realistically though, I’m always on edge, always on guard, always waiting for the next trigger to land.


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