I've been feeling pretty out of sorts today and haven't quite been able to put my finger on what's wrong. I felt grumpy as soon as I woke up and I've been finding myself getting irritated very easily as the day has progressed. Having a wander round the Brunswick Centre on my lunch break I had to stop and call the Boy as I felt on the verge of tears and it was all I could do to keep it together. I couldn't work out why I was feeling so overwhelmed and sad, which added to my frustration.
But it's just hit me like a slap in the face that today is the 1st of the month. Our baby Beans was due on the 1st November, so - while I'm sure he or she would never have arrived on that date, particularly if its timing was anything like its parents! - today I would have been seven months pregnant, and we would be just weeks away from meeting our child. I hadn't consciously remembered this when I woke up and I hadn't even thought about our lost baby today... but somehow inside of me, my subconscious and my instincts know the sad significance of this date. We had been so excited to think about meeting our first baby on the first of the month, but it's painful to think back to those butterflies and giggles now.
I wonder when the anniversaries will begin to fade - on Friday, similarly I felt most unlike myself and changing tubes at Westminster on the way to a beautician's appointment I was grasped by the same unexpected and stifling melancholy. It took me then some moments to realise that it was the 26th of the month... and therefore four months now since we'd had the heartbreaking news at our scan that our baby had unexpectedly died. Westminster has always been one of my favourite places in London, I love the juxtaposition of the old parliament buildings on the north side of the river, and the contrasting brashness of the London Eye on the South Bank... but now it reminds me of going to St Thomas's Hospital for those final appointments that were so sad and difficult.
I hope it begins to get easier from here on and the calendar in my subconscious becomes a little less accurate and the alarm bells begin to ring a little more quietly. I am frightened about what the due date will be like. At least the Boy and I have that day off so we can be together and comfort each other, and pay a visit to the tiny grave where our baby Beans lies until we meet again.
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