I'm sitting here in an airport with silent tears rolling down my face. Waiting for my bag to arrive I went to the loo and like a punch in the stomach remembered that this was the same cubicle where I first saw that tiny red mark on my pants. And today is the 4th anniversary of the due date for that pregnancy.
I was 10 weeks when I miscarried, I've since had a wee girl whose a bundle of mischief. Love her to bits and know that 8f I hadn't miscarried she wouldn't be her.. does that even make sense
But this morning, after a long flight I'm just so sad, not thought about it for such a long time and this has taken me totally by surprise