Tommy's about premature birth.
Part of the second project involved telling our story to a professional writer. And you know, I think its the first time I have cohesively told the story from beginning to continuous end to someone in a completely impartial role. And you know what, it sort of hurt.
When Joseph was in hospital and I was so stressed, caught up in it all, and wondering if it would ever end, people would say "one day, you will forget all about this time". And I used to hate it. How could I ever forget? The fear, the loneliness, the isolation, the anger, the grief. But you know, yesterday brought it all flooding back, and yes, I had forgotten.
I was never one for keeping keepsakes. Other mums left hospital with lots of different things from their baby's journey. I left with virtually nothing. I didn't even keep one of the incredibly small nappies. Last week, when at the consultant, I asked for one, so I could keep it, and take a picture.
When I support other mums and dads I always say the same thing, that that time in hospital is so surreal, you have a baby but you don't have a baby. The crib is empty, you may have bought your pram but you can't use it. I remember how weird it was to have our car seat fitted and we drove around for a couple of weeks with a car seat, but nothing to put in it. I wanted a big teddy bear or something so it didn't look so empty.
And today, both my husband and my mother have said the same thing "look at what you have now, everything is fine, you have a happy toddler". But my feelings today aren't about the present, and yes I know how lucky I am. I know and am painfully aware that not everyone takes their babies home.
Don't forget the give away for a Disco Pig