Today it’s been 3 years since I was told I’d lost my baby girl, and it’s been 2 years since I broke up with the man I planned to spend my future with. 

The two events forever merged together, their anniversaries on the same day. The heightened emotions of the first anniversary of losing Effy the catalyst for the breakup. 

So today I mourn two losses. Two futures I’d planned that will never be. 

On Thursday I’ll celebrate the 21 weeks I got to carry my daughter. 2nd June, the day I delivered her will be all about her, I’ll make a cake and take her presents.

But I’ll grit my teeth and get through today by remembering that however much shit life throws at me I will always come out even stronger, fighting, ready to take on the world another day. I may be hurt and broken but my god I am tough because I’ve survived the worst and I’m still here to tell the tale.