Today I've been having a crying day.
I needed one.
For me and for Ray and for our George.
It started early this morning in a dream where George was born alive but no one would even try to help him and I was running around with my tiny baby in my arms begging for his life... I woke Ray up with my sobbing and he woke me out of the dream with a cuddle.
So in between cleaning the kitchen, finding the dining table underneath all the dried washing and making a big batch of Rocky road, (no, of course it all went in the fridge straight away, the very idea) I have been alternately weeping, bawling, howling, blubbering, wailing, sniveling and sobbing.
I don't know if I feel better for it: better comes in small increments these days, but I had a build up of tears that needed releasing and so I gave myself permission to let the misery in and cry it out. I feel exhausted but I'm smiling a bit more this evening.
Today I've been missing my son inside my belly.
Tomorrow will be better.