I believe..

… is to find the strength and courage that lies within us when it is time to pick up the pieces and begin again.’‘To believe is to know every day is a new beginning’

I’m not overly religious, but I do believe that our baby is watching over us now. A little angel dancing in the clouds playing with all the babies that have gone before, and there to welcome all the babies that will come after. The world is a cruel place, why do things like this have to happen? I ask my self every day WHY? Why me? Why my baby? Did I do something wrong? Everyone tells me not to blame myself, that it was nothing I did - that there was nothing anyone could have done. That this time it just wasn’t meant to me. Logic tells me that they are right, but it’s hard. How can I not blame myself, ‘bean’ was inside me - it was my job to look after her and I can’t help but think that maybe I failed. That if I hadn’t had those glasses of wine in the first few weeks - the weeks when I didn’t even know the baby was there yet. What if it was the the day I forgot to take my folic acid? What if it was the worry that something would go wrong? Maybe I jinxed it all by getting to excited, by telling everyone my news. Perhaps I should never have bought that tiny baby outfit. I knew it was too soon, I knew I should never have bought it - but it was so cute and I knew I wouldn’t be in Ireland to get it again. Now I can’t even look at it - it’s hidden away somewhere. I don’t even know where, and I don’t want to. Maybe one day it will come out again, maybe my next child will get to wear it. Somehow that seems wrong though, should you dress a new baby in its dead brother or sisters clothes.

I know I’m not even being rational anymore, I can barely even see the words through my tears. I think it’s time to leave my blog for today.

‘To believe….is to know that wonderful surprises are just waiting to happen, and all our hopes and dreams are within reach.’

Strength isn’t an easy thing to find, it’s not something I ever thought I had a lot of. I’ve proved myself wrong over the past week - by going through one of the worst experiences a person can go though. Losing my baby….at 10 weeks and 6 days my little bean grew wings and flew away. He or She I don’t even know, and it’s something I will never know. Calling my baby ‘it’ seems so cruel and heartless and I hate doing it. We always called the baby our ‘little bean’ and that’s what I’ll continue you to do.
I’ll never forget ‘bean’ for as long as I live, how could I forget about my own baby. Even if her life was short, she was still my baby - still a little person. Some days are harder than others, I was doing well, I even had a couple of tear free days. Until last night that is, it was the day we were meant to have our first scan - the day we were meant to see the little heart beat, see our little baby dancing around. I guess it was just hard knowing that we never got the chance to see our baby, so the tears came and I ended up crying myself to sleep.

It’s hard but I have to believe that it was natures way of telling me something was wrong with the baby, that this time ‘bean’ wasn’t meant to make it into the world. I know if the pregnancy had progressed further, and ‘bean’ had died later it would have been so much harder to deal with. So much harder to get over.

‘To believe is to see the angels dancing among the clouds.’