Sunday 1 June little Kingsley came into the world. He didn't stay very long, but he certainly made his mark. I know his mother will never be the same- but she will eventually be the stronger for having known him. He was a little fighter. With everything seemingly going against him and the medics consistently surprised by his survival, he managed the spirit to meet his mother - if only for a short time.
I have known people before who have had babies pass, or born sleeping, but I didn't really understand their loss until having my own children. Not only have I shed tears for Kingsley, but I have had to try to explain why I am crying to A - who is 4 and a half.
Unfortunately, he overheard me telling someone that she had lost the baby. I didn't realise he was listening, until I told my husband the same news, and he questioned me, that A announced that the baby had gone missing! We talked very briefly about Kingsley had died, and gone to heaven - of course a theory he doesn't understand.
"What is heaven" he asked.
"It is the most special place you can imagine, where people go when they are no longer with us"
"I know. It is the place were babies go where they wait to be born again"
A lovely thought.
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