I wasn't going to let the day pass without celebrating it though, It was a massive achievement for Smidge to have reached her due date after spending one hundred and thirteen days in hospital and despite the set back I considered it a real milestone.
I dug out all the congratulations cards, (likely sent with some scepticism several months before) and hung them all around her cot space. It was looking like I might get a take home baby after all, a cheerful yet terrifying prospect that had me biting down on my bottom lip so much it actually caused me ulcers.
Today, a year on, I ask myself... Have we have moved on at all from the experience?
Well Smidge definitely has, She is every bit the thriving baby and to see her today you might never guess the start she's had. (the head scarves help with this)
Today she plays, she crawls, she cruises, she shout's 'Get out' at our German shepherd dog, whose at least twice her size. All in all, she does everything you would expect of a baby her age and I couldn't be more proud, or brag less often, even if you paid me.
On the emotional front it's probably fair to say I've been a bit all over the place (even without the wine) but I'm trying to see it as a natural part of the recovery process. It's taken nearly a year to get out of this 'being strong' mode, and although I've been able to talk about my experiences, it's only been the last few weeks that I've been able to embrace the emotional upset in all it's entirety and have a good old fashioned cry. Thornton's have had more than their fair share of money out of me through out this period and my poor jeans are now begging me for mercy.
It couldn't be a more beautiful day outside to mark the occasion that never really was, It's a day for planting flowers in the garden, Something I didn't have time for this year so I'll probably go to garden centre and pick up a little something that was grown in a plastic box that will later blossom at home...
Just like my Smidge.