Friday, the 19th of October, is going to be a hard day. That was when we were due to have our anatomy scan, which is the ultrasound that confirms everything is okay and can tell us the sex of our baby.

I didn’t actually think about it until just now, when I was planning my week. The realization hit like a freight train. It is the first “milestone” moment that we will reach since the miscarriage... something that we were both looking forward to and had bookmarked in our diaries before we lost the baby.

There are going to be a few more, too, big and small. This Saturday, we were going to go to a demo day to check out a fancy pram. Next Tuesday was to be my first antenatal appointment at the our local hospital. My family was due in December to celebrate Christmas and to help us set up the nursery and do some baby-stuff shopping. I was going to start maternity leave in February.

And then of course, there’s the 10th of March. That is going to suck, no two ways about it. I think even if we feel mostly recovered by then - even if we are somehow pregnant again by then - it’s going to knock us sideways.

I recognize even now that it could be worse. We could have been even farther along, with the nursery all set up and everything ready to go. I have no idea how parents who have lost their babies at those even later stages must feel. It’s not exactly a comfort, though.

It’s just a bit rough to know that we can actually do quite well, but that there are still going to be things that will always make us need to pause and take a deep breath. We know we will be keeping this baby in our hearts forever. That means having this sadness quietly sit next to us most of the time, then on those significant dates, just allow it to give us that silent, powerful hug.