Ten months today.

It feels like longer, much longer. I found this incredible poem that sums up every one of my feelings today, everyday:

You were inside me but only for a while.

Only in my dreams do I embrace your smile.

In my thoughts I see you, my bleeding heart is torn

for my darling little baby who would never be born.

Though my arms ache to hold you, my grief so hard to bear.

The pain you must have felt that day, my pain cannot compare.

(Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/you-were-inside-me).

I remember how much he cried when he wrote his letter to baby, I had never felt my heart break for someone as much as it did then. But I understood the agony, the upset because I was feeling it as well, more so. I didn’t have baby with me for very long, but the love I have is level with the love I have for my daughter, there is no question. It is horrible to love and miss a child that you never even met, the guilt is all consuming, the reminders are positively constant. 

It’s agonising.

I do wonder if it’s going to go through his mind at all today, our baby. I hope so. No matter how low I think of him now, baby was made out of love and, I really do hope he hasn’t forgotten that fact alone, or is refusing to think of it. 

On the 23rd of every month I always remember the same memory, in a weird way it makes me smile, I’m not sure why. When I found out I called him at work, he didn’t answer. I called again, about five times I think. He answered, annoyed as he was swamped but by this point I was so panicky, I blurted it out, it’s not something you want to say over the phone really. I remember his reply, ‘ohhhh my god’. I could picture his face, all I had wanted was him with me but he wouldn’t leave work. He said he couldn’t but I remember getting the feeling that even if he could, he wouldn’t have.

I spent the rest of the day lying in bed, unsure what to be feeling. Happy, confused, worried? I immediately felt maternal, just like I did when I was pregnant with my daughter. 

He came to mine immediately after finishing work. I remember him running up the stairs and appearing in my bedroom doorway, as he had done 100 times before, but this time was different. He didn’t say anything and neither did I, he came and knelt by the bed and just gave me the strongest and most protective hug I’d ever had; we both cried into each other’s shoulder with shock and apprehension I guess. But it’s memories like that, that remind me that he was decent, and it angers me fully that I now have to believe that it was all an act, times like that when he was the only person in the world who knew what I was feeling – I struggle believeing he was that good of an actor, but, how can I not think that now, after confronting what he did?

The rape had happened a few months prior to finding out I was pregnant (not due to that, though). We were already weak as a couple, he would cause fights and make me feel belittled, but those seven weeks and three days that I was with baby, there were lovely moments. I remember us being on a packed train, and he, without even thinking, protected my stomach. I remember the smile we shared a second afterwards, I felt so lucky.

I hope he remembers things like that, you know? I hope he doesn’t think of our baby as a mere blip in his life story because baby means a hell of a lot to me, more than some people who are around. Every night I kiss my scan photo, you can hardly see anything, but it’s a nightly ritual these days, just to feel close, stupid eh. I just hope the 23rd is still a day that he sits down and remembers what we shared for nearly two months, our baby.

Love you, brightest star.  



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