Miscarriage

Christmas Eve 2005. I was sitting in the Family Church Service feeling extremely emotional. This time next year I would be a Mummy. Every time I hear the Christmas Song, "Little Donkey" I get the urge to burst into tears. I have no idea why. This Christmas was no different. My hormones were completely up the spout. I was so happy and so proud and feeling fantastic. Only this feeling didn't last for long as a little over a month later the baby was gone. No more. Over.

"It wasn't meant to be". "There must have been something wrong with it". People mean well but the comments didn't help.

Each time I lost a baby, and I know thousands of women feel the same, I wanted a reason. "Why me?". It just wasn't fair. Life isn't fair.

I think about my babies more and more as I reach the end of my fertile years. Their Birthdays are written in my little book. Are they Charlotte's guardian angels? Will they be watching over her? Were they boys or girls? I know the answer to that. Let's call it a Mother's intuition. Would they have been ginger too? I could have them playing the Weasleys in a future Harry Potter film.

A woman becomes a Mother the moment she sees that blue line (or little pink dot if you go to the Pound Shop). Once we know there is a new beginning inside of us, we nurture that growing being and love he or she unconditionally. Miscarriage is unbearable and anyone that has experienced such a loss knows how intolerable the pain is.

This Christmas I will be praying for women that have suffered this terrible thing. Hang in there. The future is bright and there is so much help out their to guide you through the grief and give you hope.  That is why I am chuffed to bits that Ben and Rash are running the London Marathon 2013 for the Miscarriage Association.

I will never ever forget my babies that are not on this earth. All four of them.