I haven't been in this part of BB for a while. It seems once you finally get your bubba you feel the need to distance yourself from the horrible things that once were. Well, I did anyway... I have my little baby now, so there shouldn't be a problem, right?

I don't know why I'm writing this. But I need to get it out, because I never have.

Every now and again I do this to myself. I get out Jayvans photo album to imagine what once was and what could have been. I know I shouldn't. What could have been would have resulted in not having Jackson, and I can't imagine my life without his little cheeky smile in it.

It starts off with ultrasound pics. A perfect little bubba just floating around there in the womb, everything looking pretty hunky dory. I smile at these while I take note of how many months and weeks I have left of pregnancy innocence before it's all taken away from me.

The next lot are photos I didn't take, but the midwife who helped me deliver him took them for me. They're fuzzy, unfocused, grainy, and poorly printed. Really crap. I could have taken way more better photos but I didn't, because I was too chicken and after I peaked over at him laying on the bed next to me, and then being taken away in his little bassinet I never saw him again. I never touched his skin. He never felt a warm mummy cuddle. I just sent him away, wrapped in a little rug, in ultimately what was a little plastic box.

What kind of a mother doesn't touch their baby? I'll regret it every day for the rest of my life. Every. Single. Day. My first baby, who never got a cuddle, who I never told I loved him, who never had a first photo with Mummy, or Daddy, or a kiss or anything. He got nothing. How awful. Just sent on his way, to god knows where... I don't even want to think. I was even asked if I wanted a cuddle, and I said no. I didn't want to bring him back into the room because I was worried I'd upset DH. Idiot. I've cried a million tears over this. Even today, over 2 years on and I can still sit and blubber like a giant baby over my own guilt.

Then there are the next lot of photos. These ones have obviously been taken by someone who knows how to use a camera. They're posed. My sweet little man is wearing a tiny little nappy and laying with a teddy bear all bundled up with a rug (covered in pink flowers, mind you). He looks peaceful and uncomfortable all at the same time. I can make out his tiny hands, his fingers, his feet, his toes, his nose, his little lips and mouth and his eyes. I can even tell you he has those little fat rolls babies have at the tops of their legs between their inner thigh and crotch. He looks like he's sleeping. I'm grateful for these photos and bitter about them at the same time. some gorgeous soul took photos of my precious for me to cherish always. And then, Some person I didn't now got to take photos of my precious and I didn't.

I could drone on forever, really. Maybe one day I'll come to peace with my guilt. I hope so.

Jayvan, I love you, my forever baby. With every fiber of my being. Always.

Time to hit submit.