My dearest Bean
You were conceived out of love - lots of love. You were so very wanted by your father and I. It took 6 attempts via various fertility treatments, for us to reach the stage where one embryo was viable and survived, albeit, briefly in my womb.
You were the Bean, because that was the size you were on the ultrasound screen when they told me. I saw your tiny heart beat; you made my back ache (even at such an early stage of pregnancy) and made me dislike the taste of my favourite tea.
Daddy and I were so worried about you, and maybe that's why you just died in my tummy. When the nurse couldn't find a heart beat, I cried from the deepest part of my body. A missed miscarriage - I'd never even heard that term before. It wasn't meant to be.
I had some names in mind for you, and when I hear them mentioned anywhere now, I pause, and my heart aches. My 'mummy' friends will never understand my pain, and I just don't think they really know what I endured to get pregnant. And why do people bring their babies into work? Don't they have any awareness for the feelings of others?
Your Daddy and I are no longer together, but we still message each other, not least on the date you were due. You would have had three cousins - all girls - and they would have adored you. My beautiful Bean.
You will never leave our hearts x
ANON