It has been a week since we removed you through a DNC, 10 days since we could no longer detect your heartbeat. Your dad and I have been devastated, although others might think we are coping reasonably well… We go to work, cook, socialize and so forth. We’ve even taken the Christmas tree out and erected it in the lounge, although we’ve not yet had the heart to decorate it. Your nonna hasn’t been well and so she has spent a few nights at our house where we have tried to care for her. I think we did a reasonable job. We attended my work Christmas party and put on a brave face. We drank too much wine, of course, and paid terribly the next day, but we got through it and did what needed to be done. In private we have spent 3 nights of the last 10 in separate beds… Your dad’s choice… A first in our marriage. He’s so angry, not with me, but with the circumstances that led to your demise, and it’s easier for him to have some space. He had so much hope for you and played you Formula One sounds everyday to give you motivation to grow. He loved you despite the fact that you were the size of an apple seed… He saw the potential in you, and so did I. Your due date was July 6th 2015, a date that will forever be etched into our minds. I know you were broken and that you had to go, but we loved you nevertheless and miss you. You were our first child and it was an enormous honor and blessing to carry your life within my body, even for a short while.