Afterwards, I pushed it out of my mind for many years. Eventually, it broke through into my mind and I was very disturbed for a long time, as the connection to my baby became clear to me, the shock that this baby had been a real baby, my baby. I was astounded, the feelings came to me: the grief, loss, yearning, the desire to wrap my baby up and keep him warm, protect him from harm and hold him close. The desire to give birth, to feel the baby come into the world. Most of all and the most painful was the desire to see my child’s face; as I write this tears come yet again. Not the burning hot tears of before, but fresh tears for a face so precious and a face I will never see. And so it was that I had to live through that first Christmas after the death of my baby. Christmas is always a painful time for the newly bereaved.