Sleep tight, my little apple

Thunderclap in a clear sky... Never have I felt that proverb so intensely as today.

Full of anticipation (sic) to the gynecologist today, happy to catch another glimpse of our little apple.

And after two seconds that doctor says 'I'm afraid I have bad news'. And then you see it yourself: where you should see a small flickering light, you now see nothing.

Very quietly you see the contours of your child and it slowly dawns on you that it is no longer there. For God knows what reason, it has gone away like a breath of wind.

You then have to arrange practical matters with the doctor regarding the curettage, all sorts of appointments that need to be postponed so you can be with your wife, and then go home and tell Lucas the bad news.

Laurens doesn't know yet, he's at boarding school tonight. Lucas went to sleep at grandma's because dad and mom have to leave early for the hospital tomorrow. For him, brother or sister is now a little cloud in the sky.

At bedtime, Lucas told his teddy bear not to be afraid, that everything would be normal again tomorrow.

I wish I could say that too. This is the second miscarriage in six months. Now, in the silence of our home, between my salty tears, I wonder if I am selfish if I try to rationally consider whether nature is telling us we have become too old or if I stubbornly want to persevere.

I don't know, time brings counsel, they say...

I only know now that I miss my baby so much, that I will never be able to hold and cuddle it.

I miss you, my little apple, forever...