We can't have another baby for many reasons. I thought of another one today.
What if it all went well?
It would be awful. I would know every single little thing that Skittle should have had. I would have everything with another child that I could not have with him. A birth, skin to skin, seeing them, being with them, holding them, hearing them, dressing them, feeding them, changing them, bathing them, closeness, relationship, tenderness. Everything me and Skittle didn't have, or didn't have for such a long time.
I just couldn't let that happen. The guilt, the comparison, the knowing what it should have been like.
This thought hit me like a slap in the face while walking through the bus station today, I couldn't really tell you how I got from there to sainsburys for overwhelming, swirling brain motions that made me feel light headed.
It's a jolly good job another pregnancy might kill me then. I owe it to Skittle to never have another.