Today I held a death certificate in my hand for the very first time.
The word is there at the top of the page.
Black and bold.
Baby Tilda is not coming back.
Tomorrow it has been two weeks since I found our daughter sleeping.
Two weeks since her beautiful soul escaped to the sky.
Two weeks since my heart broke irreparably forever.
Two weeks since our beautiful Matilda Mae just died.
She just died!
I am struggling on every day.
I have moments of utter weakness.
I hide my pain as much as I can from Esther and William.
But I fear that I am being a bad mummy to them.
People the world over are loving their children more because of Matilda Mae.
Yet sometimes I can barely stand the sound of mine.
Sometimes I long for peace and quiet to grieve.
But at the same time I am desperate to hold Esther and William close.
And be the best mummy to them I can be.
But I miss Matilda Mae so much.
Her death is eating away at me.
My heart is like stone.
My chest weighed down with the coldness of it all.
I miss my youngest daughter.
I want my baby back.
But today I held a death certificate.
A single piece of paper in my hand.
My heart, my soul, my body crumpled.
As I read the word at the top of the page.
There it stood black and bold.
Clear for all to see.
Telling me what in my deepest of hearts I know to be true.
My baby is never coming back to me.