I wrapped my hands around you, wanting nothing more than to protect you and keep you safe.

I held you on my chest, your ear towards my heart, knowing full well you would never hear it beating from the outside.

I breathed you in and kissed your head, your cheeks, your hands and your feet.

I carefully wrapped you and placed a tiny beanie on your head. I understood you needed to be kept cold and yet my instincts screamed to keep you warm.

And I loved you.

Oh how I loved you.

I put on a dress and did my hair.

We carefully arranged the things in your forever ‘cot’ to go with you. I placed you in and screamed when the lid was closed on top. It felt as if we were killing you and it sure felt like it was killing me.

We read out letters to you, your sister sang you a lullaby, we played some songs and then… then we handed you over.

To this day I don’t know how they didn’t need to pry you from my fingers. To this day I don’t know how I was able to pick up your little white coffin and simply place it in her hands and watch her take you away.

I wish I saw you one last time.

I wish I had one more cuddle, one more kiss, one more photo, one more of anything with you.

But the problem with goodbyes is that I could have had a million more of everything but it would never be enough. The problem is there would always be a last.

So many lasts when it should have been our beginning.

Now I hold a little blue box filled with your stardust.

Now I protect your memory.

Now I wrap you up safely in my heart.

And I continue to live.

And I continue to love you.

Oh how I continue to love you.