I woke up at around 3.30am last night for a pee break and couldn't go back to sleep for quite a while. The reason is simple. I was scared. Terrified that history would repeat itself.
Exactly 2 years ago, I woke up at around 4.30am for a pee break and then went back to bed. An hour or so later, I felt a warm trickling and upon rushing to the toilet, I realized that my waterbag broke. It was also then when I knew deep down that I would lose Chloe cos I was only 24 weeks into the pregnancy. Mark's reaction when I woke him up is something that will remain etched in my mind forever. He was understandably worried and upset, but on top of it all, he was angry, not with me, but with God/fate/etc for taking away our baby yet again. My normally placid and mild-tempered husband took his frustrations out at the bathroom door (thank goodness the wood was sturdy) and the intensity of it shocked me. I have never seen such a fury in him in all our years together.
Although my waterbag ruptured on the 24th June 2009, we were blessed to be able to spend another 2 days with Chloe before I went into labour and officially lost her on the 26th. In another 2 days, it'd mark the 2nd year anniversary of us losing Chloe. We still miss her as much as ever.
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