It's a strange feeling watching everyone around you moving on - getting on with their own lives - leaving you floudering behind. I get the feeling they think 'It's been 8 weeks now, its time to move on'. And maybe that is true, for them, but not for me. Who said they got to put a time limit on losing a child?
Throughout all of this - right from the minute things started to go wrong at our 12 week scan - people have been texting and calling making sure we are OK, asking if there is anything we need. I noticed that after July 24th when Emily was born that we got an influx of calls and texts - people sending their sympathies - but then they started to dwindle until after her funeral when they almost stopped altogether. Apparently after the funeral we dont need support anymore? Or did I manage to fool enough people by telling them I was 'Okay'? Who knows. Would I have been different if the shoe were on the other foot? If I was the one in the position to offer comfort. I dont know. I honestly dont. Because if this has taught me anything its that you never know what you will do in any given situation until you are in it - until you have to come face to face with your fears you can not say with ultimate clarity what you would do.
For me, I feel like everything is getting worse rather than better or easier 8 weeks on. People keep telling me that time heals all wounds, well that may be true, but it seems that learning to live with the scars that are left behind is the hard part.
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