She had the most piercing, adorable bright blue eyes and hair that coiled in little gold springs around her pale face. She was the absolute double of her Dad. So much alike to him that she was almost so pretty it would have taken the breath from people, had she reached her adult life.
Three weeks ago, though I never knew she existed until just before she passed, this little girl; this small and vulnerable human lived inside my body. The wrench of losing a second child was like a stab to the heart. Not because of untimely creation and subsequent death, but because of circumstance. Above all things, I believe in fate as if it were the bible. I firmly believe that if something is taken from you, it's because it was never the right thing to allow you to have it. The pain of this belief made dealing with the loss so much more difficult.
One loss was trauma....but the loss that followed some days later was one that will stay with me always. Not a single day has passed without grief for that boy. I trusted that fate brought us together, as it did, to realise something I never thought possible. Now I am cheated and doubt myself beyond repair. When I started my blogs I felt hope, love and promise and felt a future which was idealistic and tinged with naivety. This was nobodys fault. I know not why a child came to me when this was technically impossible. I have no idea why my daughter died (I am adamant she was a girl, just as I know my first passed was a boy)....I have no idea why I was so foolhardy to push something certain to fail, but I did.
I will always have a marker now for what love is, always.
I knew nothing of love until this moment and I know only the pain caused, which is why it is a first for me.
This was nobodys fault...
Timing, distance and ambition will keep us apart but I'll never forget that boy with the tattoos who changed my entire world with his humble and adorable honesty. I'm so grateful for the honesty.
Make no mistake, this blog is not intended for pity or sorrow, only to finalise the story which started only 4 months ago. It has taken three weeks of strength building to even say the words without breaking down. But the boy is gone. In my heart there will always be a space for him, we will always be friends. As for that little girl, the most peculiar thing happened - some two days later, a smiling face came into view and the words 'she's fine now with her Grandad'. My new found spirit guide. Grandad. He said she looks like a Daisy Marie....I'm puzzled, but I'll take his word for it.
Rest in peace baby Kightley. Tell your big brother hello from Mummy xxxxx
