Head Duck.

Wednesday, 18 April 2012

Another rather miserable day, not only because of the grey clouds leaking fat bellied raindrops that land like drunken thumps but more so because I can't take The Toddler out to dance in puddles. Stupid ankle.

Whilst raiding a box of 'stuff' or 'Junk' as The Husband would label it for a battery charger of all things (LeapFrog, I curse thee for not providing an AC adaptor with the leappads) I came across a familiar carrier bag.  Just looking at it quickened my heart and made something jagged and tangible stick in the back of my throat. I touched it and swallowed a succession of three ineffectual breaths before looking inside.  I didn't need to look for I knew what lay inside yet it was some emotional dare egging me on.  Inside were four positive pregnancy tests with marker penned dates from June 2009 on them.  The lines were still bright and teasingly pink.  The tests looked virtually knew as if they'd been pee'd on yesterday.  For those who're new to my blog, do the maths.  The Toddler wasn't conceived at that point.  These are the tests from my lostling.  (follow the links if you're morbidly curious to the relating entries) I still have the tests.  I still have the virtually empty set of pregnancy notes too.  I can't not have them because it's all I have other then sadness to remind me that although only six weeks of pregnancy, it was my baby and my baby was real.

Although expected, you cannot prepare for the vicious accuracy of grief.  Although an old wound, it still bleeds when poked.

I've always struggled dealing with this particular grief.  I miss what could have been.  I want that baby. However, it would have been impossible to have had that baby and The Toddler. Such a mind tangle.  I couldn't imagine life without The Toddler and had we not lost a baby, he wouldn't be here for he was conceived about 8 weeks later, give or take.  That's exactly it though isn't it.... something was taken and something was given.  How I wish for the impossibility of being able to have both babies.  How do you begin to mourn the loss of something so precious that lead to the creation of something so beloved?

Still, at least I still have two legs, unlike poor Pat.  The beloved Toddler 'accidentally' snapped his leg off.  Yet another toy that has survived over 6 years and two children only to be destroyed by The Toddler of destruction.

....It's a good job he's cute.

I miss you lostling.  Always loved & never forgotten.


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