The one that got away

I have 2 beautiful boys. One is 2, the other 4. I treasure them, like only a few out there would probably know.  Before the birth of my first son, I was pregnant.  I felt happy, my husband was happy.  I was at what they call the safe point when I had an ultrasound done.  The baby had stopped developing at six weeks old.  I had been carrying the baby for almost twice this length of time without even knowing.  I was booked into hospital, and the baby removed.  No so some, I was early in the pregnancy, but to me, it was my baby, and I had to go to hospital knowing that when I left it wasn't going to be there anymore.  The silly thing is, when I woke up from the operation I just wanted to leave the hospital so badly.  I got up to walk myself out, before I was physically able, vomiting all over the reception of the hospital and collapsing on their floor.  It was the sadest day of my life.  The only thing that could be worse, would be losing one of my sons now.  I only write this as there are so many people out there who lose babies, and they need to know that they are not alone.  And it is okay to hurt, and to cry, it is almost five years ago, and I have 2 children, yet I still wonder, and cry, over the loss of the first pregnancy.  But it's okay.