Yesterday I went to visit a tiny, baby girl. I waited until she was home as I am not ready to visit people in the same maternity hospital in which Alice was born and died.
She is perfect and small and perfect.
She slept in my arms for hours.
I cried a little.
I was happy for her family but I felt empty and sad on the inside.
I watched her asleep. I took photos.
And for a tiny, fleeting, fraction of a second I thought about taking her with me when I left.