Invasion of the baby bellies

I took little DG yesterday to meet a friend and her baby. We met in  a cafe, there was torrential rain. This cafe has some sort of conservatory in the yard, with sofas so we settled there.

In came a couple of hugely pregnant women. Then another. And another. Six in total. I didn’t say anything to my friend. These were very yummy soon to be mummies. Glamourous, and, eavesdropping a little, doctors and architects and so on (it’s that sort of area)

Anyway. I survived. Walking along the road afterwards I saw my friend, jiggling her little one, looking quite sad. “It makes me feel such a sense of loss” she said. And of course, I realised. Although her daughter is doing just fine, and is now 9m adjusted… little A was born suddenly at 24 weeks, with no warning and my friend missed out on the last months of pregnancy, of looking pregnant in fact. She missed out on giving up work, receiving gifts, meetings with other very pregnant mums in coffee shops while waiting for the happy event. Of honestly meant congratulations after the birth. Of bringing her baby home with her. Of confidence in what the future holds for little A.

Sometimes we are so lost in our own grief, we forget it comes in many forms.


~ by drownedgirl on July 21, 2007.

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