It was a sunny, life-affirming start to Mother’s Day. Breakfast out with Paul, celebrating our four embryos.
Then lunch with my Mum and siblings, my nieces and nephew. We brought cards and gifts for Mum. We chatted by the fire in a cosy pub.
Somewhere along the way, I dropped out of the conversation.
I couldn’t find my way back in.
I know it’s awkward for people, when they see me upset. It’s hard for them to know what to say.
I should have asked Paul or my sister – for a chat, a hug.
Only, my words weren’t working.