HAPPY BIRTH-DAY, BABY

Today is my sons birthday - his due date. Obviously it’s unlikely he would’ve been born today, but to me, today will always be his birthday. I’m not coping. I’m not okay. I’m fucking angry. I feel ripped off. I feel cheated. And I’m still heart broken. You would think by now I would have moved on but how do you move on from losing a child? Even when others say or think “it wasn’t a thing” - He was my thing. They were all my things. I had hoped we’d be pregnant by now but the universe has other plans. Surgery failed and with my eggs running out, I can’t help but feel like it’s an impossible goal too far out of reach. The next step in our journey is the one I didn’t want to have to take. Daily injections, out of control hormones, more poking and prodding. I see my husbands heartache every time we see a child or when we get an update from one of our pregnant friends. We talk almost every day about the huge void in our world - our poor cat now receives excessive amounts of affection (much to his disgust and horror) in an attempt to “baby” something. I used to be able to visualise a family, I could imagine the future, but I can’t see it anymore. I’ve lost it.