Because of the people I have met through this blog and the beautiful way those of you who have lost babies write about your sweet children I know that it will be ok for me to hold on to the memory of my George.
I know that I don't have to get over it yet, and I'll probably never truly get over it. I'm different now, but that's ok. I'm going to cry some more, lots more, and that's ok too. I'm going to have crap, miserable, awful, angry, sad days and although that's not ok, I know it's normal and I won't fight it. Well, I will probably fight it but I won't win.
I know that all the feelings that jumble and crowd around my head are normal and perfectly acceptable for a member of the dead baby club.
I will never feel that I have to pretend that George wasn't real to ease discomfort in others. He will always be included. I will speak his name.
I know that the happy moments aren't a betrayal of my grief for my son and I will allow myself to be happy as and when those moments arrive because those moments are precious.
I don't know when it will be ok but I know I don't have to rush headlong at ok and force it on myself.
I might find ok when... when we're holding our second child. Or it might take longer. I know now that it doesn't matter. It will happen when it happens.
So, from this particular point in my journey towards ok-ness, 41 days since tiny perfect lost George was born...
Thank you for acknowledging my son and his existence and allowing me to share my journey with you.
I wish so much that I'd never found any of you in the dead baby club, and I wish you'd never needed to find any of us but thank you for allowing me to share your grief and the lives of your babies made with love..
Today I'm functioning and vaguely optimistic.