I don't blog about that much. Well because this blog is about me, about grief, about Yuna.
I'm not for a second ungrateful for what I do have. It's just earth shattering to realise the finality of where I'm at right now. The loss of my womb at only 24.
My feelings as a woman, as a mother.
I love my children. I do. But I also miss, well grieve the daughter I will never see live a long life. The baby I'll never know. She is memory more than real. I just struggle knowing it was all taken from me. Motherhood.
I don't say I have three children anymore. That's not forgetting, it just seems now time has passed it's socially unacceptable to do so. To talk of a dead baby as if she were part of the family. *insert sarcasm here*
This Western world sucks at death. Especially dead babies.
Ssh it's taboo. I want it to be real. To cry in public. Swear at Dr Fuckwitt and his pink shirts. Tell random strangers how sad I am. Reveal myself. Not pretend.
Be socially unacceptable.
Peachyfuckingnot...
They have pills for that kind of behaviour though.
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