What a difference

A year makes.

This time last year I was sat in a stark A&E watiting room as I had just started spotting at 10 weeks during my third pregnancy.

Many long silent hours later I was seen and told to simply go home and wait it out. Sadly any hope we had died along with the promise of our child on 15th March 2011. We were the victims of a missed misscarriage due to a blighted ovum. A quirk of nature where nothing develops from the fertilised egg save an empty sac. An empty sac that your body clings to desperately for weeks before nature takes it's course.

In some respects it feels as if it only happened yesterday and in others it feels like it happened 10 years ago.

Yet here we are, a year later, expecting the arrival of our third daughter by elective c-section on 9th March this year. Her original due date would have been 16th March, a year and a day from the loss we suffered.

One thing that loss cruelly took from me was ignorance. The innocent belief that every pregnancy ends in a baby and that everything would be okay. Of course I knew about misscarriage and loss, but those were terrible truly sad things that happened to other people.

I will never believe that my unborn daughter is safe and well until she is here and in my arms.

25 days to go.