Absence

Dear Joe,

It's been a few weeks since I wrote. It's been no time since I thought of you; I think of you every day.

We've been away, Daddy and me, and spent some time resting together. We saw you in the skies above the Isle of Wight, and felt you in the wind. Thank you, my son.

I'm seeing less and less blue in the sky now. Autumn is drawing in and the skies are grey and sad. I look for you, and when I spy you it lifts my heart, it really does.

I'm pregnant. I'm so sorry. I don't even know what to write about that because I'm such a jumble. Please know that while I do want this baby, I want you too. I know I'm only pregnant because I didn't bring you home, and that is so painful.

We're scared. I'm taking tablets and having injections, having scans and everything else. I'm terrified I'm not going to bring this little brother or sister home either, but there's nothing I can do beyond what I'm doing. I've had some counselling, though it wasn't very helpful. I didn't like the therapist much and didn't feel she understood what I had lost. It's all too enormous.

I'm clearing the decks, selling some clothes and raising some more money as part of my promise to you. I can't bring myself to sell the sleepsuits we had laid out for you, but I have had to sell on the Christmas bits I had set aside for you this year.

We'll be short one place at Christmas this year my baby boy. More than one place if we count your brothers and sisters, of course, but this year was going to be your first Christmas and I know I'm going to struggle with the emptiness and incompleteness of my family.

Daddy sends his love. He spends time looking at your picture and thinking about you. We talk about you. We're still so sad. We know you would have been loved so much, and we would have had so much laughter with you here. We know we wouldn't have had much sleep but your sister is reminding us of that anyway so we would have been fine.

Sofie is doing wonderfully. She would have doted on you. I look at her and know that if this baby joins you in heaven we'll have to stop, and be glad of her alone, and I really really am of course.

I'm still doing my photography course, and have decided to try to undertake a series of woodland photos that can be donated to the EPAU/Antenatal waiting rooms next year. I hope to capture a bit of your spirit in them, a bit of your sunshine and blue skies, if I can. I'm going to spend a lot of time in those waiting rooms, if all goes well.

Lots of love always my darling,

Mummy x