I'm hoping noone else shares this set of circumstances because every single year it feels like someone is playing a cruel awful joke, except it isnt funny. I'd hate it for someone else going through the highs and lows all in one day.
I haven't changed any details because I can't deny my daughter her right to be remembered, or her 3 siblings the right to their own feelings too.
28 years ago today, at 13:02, my 2nd daughter (3rd baby), Sofia Maria was stillborn at 37 weeks. I really wanted a boy so still blame myself but everyone else saying it wasn't my fault. She was very small for dates - she grew so well until about 28 weeks then that was it. She stopped growing and her heartbeat stopped during her induced labour at 37 weeks.
27 years ago today, at 16:07, their baby brother, Brendan, was born at 37 weeks, small for dates but tough as that proverbial Ocxen. He is so beautiful;it's like he has enough of everyone that he's like 2 people.
It always feels wrong, celebrating Brendan's amazing life whilst finding a quiet corner for Sophia, to remember her - she has taught me so much.
How do I stop Sofia's death causing this gut wrenching pain when I want so much to have a happy day for Brendan?