Lower than this?

The past few days have been my absolute worse yet. I haven't left the house and I've hardly left my room apart from at meal times. Last night I felt like I had truly hit the bottom of what has been a continuous dark black hole. I don't know for how long, but most certainly a couple of hours, I sat at the edge of my bed from around 1am this morning sobbing, crying and visioning over and over in my head that awful day that I saw my beautiful angel on the screen at the hospital, the tiny speck of happiness that shone in my heart just before it was ripped away by the words 'there's no heartbeat'. The worst thing of all was turning to my other half, looking him in the eyes and seeing the pain and sadness that I had never seen before. Although he doesn't say much, that one second I could see him crushed. But all he wanted to do was to hold me, to take my hands and never let go. He wanted to protect me from anything bad happening ever again and for that I am so thankful for because I wouldn't have been able to get out of bed and start the day this morning, and for every morning for the past 2 weeks without him being there. 

After last night, I really don't think I can feel any worse than I possibly did right then. Feeling so alone and helpless. Feeling as though there is nothing left but an empty hole where my former self used to be.

Grief takes different forms for each and every one of us, and yesterday I realised that both of us are completely different in this way. But although he doesn't cry and although he doesn't shout I know that he will never ever stop thinking about our little peanut. Everything about our little baby would have made us so happy, but we still have each other. We are stronger together and nobody should be left alone! Someone that has helped me a lot over the past couple of days has been a wonderful lady called Laila. This may sound strange, but Laila and I have never met before, in fact I don't know where she lives or what she does for a job. But one thing that we are connected by is the grief that we are suffering through the loss of our beautiful children. We are untied by our angel babies. We connected through the community of angel mummies on instagram and Laila runs her own blog Loving An Angel Instead which tells her own story. Something that she posted yesterday hit me hard, and made me realise that I had to come to terms with the way in which me and my other half grieve and how differently we do deal with what has happened.

I just want to say: I know you are hurting too, I know you are grieving too. We don’t need to grieve the same way to share the same pain. I am sorry if sometimes I lose track of that fact. We are in this together. I am here for you, as you are here for me. I love you. We’re still standing, together. We’ll get through this, together. And we will remember her,always, together.

I miss the feeling in my belly and the feeling in my heart when you were part of me. You weren't big enough to make yourself known yet but we knew you were there and the love you bought to the world was stronger than anything we could have ever imagined.