The sky was so blue on the day we found out we'd lost you. To me, it felt almost indecent at the time. That the sun could be shining so brightly and bathing the world in its warmth while all I could feel was grief and loss and desperate, raw pain. Weather cannot empathise.
You made it to 5 days of development, we know that for sure. How long after that did you survive? Did you ever get any bigger than your picture? Or were you gone soon after the transfer? On some level I was expecting this outcome, and for a while I felt strangely calm about it. It was after about 4 hours, when it had had a chance to sink in, that the intensity of the pain hit me like a tonne of bricks, seemingly out of nowhere. I cried so intensely that day that small capillaries burst in my eyelid. It felt validating somehow, that there was a mark. A physical reminder of the full, ugly, wailing cries that had poured their way out of me. Grief can be so messy. So unpredictable.
The sun kept defiantly shining for days after we lost you. It began to feel comforting at times. On day 3, overwhelmed with emotion and heat, I walked to the beach and had a dip in the sea. 5 years ago I would have taken a long time to inch myself forward, squealing into the cold water. These days I've learnt that facing difficult and painful things head on, with purpose, is the quickest way to make them easier. The water always feels better once you're in. And though the waves of grief can be unpredictable, there is a kind of peace involved in surrendering to them. Simply floating. Accepting.
I tried to make a good home for you little embryo. When I realised I'd failed, my instinct was for self destruction, but so many lovely people implored us to take care of ourselves that I found myself doing so. And it helped, to eat, to shower, to get out of the house and move my body. And to soak up all the love and well wishes of those around us. There is so much love in our lives. We were desperate to share it with you. To introduce you to the people who are our blue skies and our bright sun at times like this. For now, we will bathe in their warmth on your behalf and keep hoping.