Time really does move in mysterious ways.
Just the other day my colleagues at work were making chitchat, saying 'how can it be September already?' and 'hasn't the year flown?'.
Then on Friday night I turned up at Rose's house to pick E up after his day at daycare to find L's mum there, visiting Rose. I hadn't seen her since the week of L's funeral, when she and her husband (amazingly, stoically, heroically) came around to Rose's place to take part in a small fundraiser we other parents put on for Red Nose Day - the money going to SIDS research ... SIDS being the official cause of her son's death at 16 months of age.
She remarked that time was dragging. And I have to agree with her. It does seem like forever since L died ... when in fact it was June 8. Not even three months yet.
I hadn't seen her or spoken to her since that last time at Rose's place. She appears to be holding up as well as can be expected (what is expected, I wonder?).
In the way that only a teenager can, Rose's 16-year-old daughter bluntly asked her, "So do you think you'll have another baby?" (I guess we were all wondering, but I personally wouldn't ask such a question).
It was then that she said she'd had three miscarriages before finally having L. And that she had actually been pregnant with a second baby this March, but had lost it too.
This is not my sorrow (thank God for that), but I cried in front of her when I heard that.
Just ... how? How can it be possible that life could dole out this set of circumstances to one lovely, kind couple?
So now she and her husband are having some fertility tests carried out and back they will go to the beginning: looking to a start a family over again.
They have so much to endure yet ... but I really, really, REALLY wish for another baby for her. With all my heart.