I say ‘alone’ as of course I wasn’t; I had my amazing family and friends rallied around me, and they still are. They were there all hours of the day and night, only a phone call away, if that-often they just turned up. They were there from the moment Gabriel died, with one of my closest friends by my side throughout my labour and Gabriel’s birth. She held my hand, wiped my tears, gave me water, topped up my epidural, was a strength I needed but had no idea how to muster. And from that moment, my friends and family have made sure I have never had to deal with more than I could. My lovely friend made the first contact to arrange Gabriel’s funeral, she dealt with all the things which I had no idea how to deal with. My sisters were there to look after Poppy and be with me in the hospital. My parents, though utterly heartbroken themselves, did all they could to support my children and be there whilst I was in the hospital with Gabriel. If there was anything I needed, I knew I only had to ask and someone would make sure I had it. I found out what beautiful, loyal and amazing friends I have (not that I didn’t already think they were amazing, but I mean…really fucking amazing!)

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On Tuesday, it was the first time Poppy cried about Gabriel. I am not entirely sure what prompted her to start talking about him; we had just got into the car after doing some shopping and out of, what seemed to be nowhere, she said, ‘I miss Gabriel Mummy, is he coming home soon?’

It wasn’t the first time she had asked when Gabriel would be coming home, we have had that conversation several times. It’s a conversation I dread having with her as I have to tell her he won’t be coming home.

One of my first thoughts when Gabriel died was how I was going to tell Poppy and Jordan. Both of them had anticipated his arrival and were excited in different ways; Poppy was going to change his nappies and give him his bottles, whilst Jordan definitely wasn’t keen on doing the dirty work but looked forward to finally not being outnumbered and having a little brother to share ‘boy things’ with.

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