The wait… There she was again, in the corner of the room, rocking backwards and forwards, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. She wouldn’t move from this spot until all her crying was done for the day. This girl in the corner was barely recognisable from the happy-go-lucky, maybe a little naïve, girl who had loved till it hurt…
This is who I had become over the course of a few deeply painful years of waiting and trying for children. In my corner I felt like I was outside of myself, looking down on a mess of a human being
Who was this person? This wasn’t me was it?
