"When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something's suffered damage and has a history, it becomes more beautiful."
There is a big Lucy shaped hole in my heart, in my life. In my mind I can feel her weight in my arms, feel her soft baby skin under my fingers. At the moment I am finding the days harder than ever. On my second day at work, a colleague said to me in the kitchen - "It's good that you are back, you have to move on".
That cut like a knife deep into my heart. Is that what everyone at work is now thinking? That at three months, I should be moving on, packing up my Lucy shaped hole and the condolence cards and everything baby related and putting them away?
I can't do that.
My life is always on pause, always stuck at that terrible day, hearing those words and staring at my dead baby on an Ultrasound machine. I can't and do not want to 'move on' right now. Carry on, yes I am doing that. I am functioning on a day to day basis. But I am hanging on to my little girls memories for dear life, and my opportunities to talk about her are dwindling by the day. No one asks anymore, no one mentions her the way they did. But she was here, she was my daughter, she kicked and rolled and hiccuped. She was made out of love by me and John, and she was the most precious, precious thing I have ever had the honour of meeting. Just seeing her beautiful face, it was the most wonderful and the most devastating moment of my life. If only she had opened her eyes.
The grief at not getting pregnant again is mixing with the grief of losing my beautiful, precious daughter. It is mixing and churning into a heady cocktail of pain, and bitterness. I am in pain today.