When you died and it came time to leave the hospital without you, I got stuck. I got very stuck. I knew, on some level, that you were not in the hospital any more - that I was not really leaving you, because you had already left your body - but somehow in my mind I still managed to attach you to the hospital, and I could not leave. Maybe I thought that once I left, it was definitely over. No more pregnancy. No more baby. No more you. And no where to hide.
People moved around me, packing my things into my bag and doing what they could to get me ready. I spoke to a beautiful soul who told me everything I needed to hear and more. I held photos of my precious children, Miss J, Miss F, Miss V and you.
I just couldn't make myself leave that room.
I had been sitting on the bed for hours, bags packed, everything in order, ready - yet at the same time anything but ready - to leave. Just as another wave of grief threatened to drown me, the door opened and I heard the most beautiful, sweet and vulnerable cry in the world.
A tiny kitten, just 8 weeks old and missing his mum, was placed in my lap. I looked down at the fragile little being and felt the most intense kind of love rush through me - maternal love.
I held the kitten to my chest and he immediately began to purr. Without thinking I stood and moved to the door. The people around me - my incredible friends - recognised my cue to leave and came to form a guard around me. Around us.
That tiny little kitten, held close to my heart, stopped my soul from tearing in two as I walked out those doors without you.
From the moment he came to the hospital, he was known as "Zy's kitten", and in the days and weeks that followed, he never strayed more than a few meters from me. There was only one other person your kitten would seek out, and that was your dad. As time passed and plans were made for the future, your kitten started spending more and more time beside your father. The plans that were being made were for your surrogate sisters and myself to travel with our circus family, but your dad had decided to stay where he was. The gaping hole in his heart as he grieved for you was almost visible, and your kitten was the only one he would allow close to him.
When it came time for me to leave, it seemed as though your kitten staying with your dad was the only decision that could be made.
This week your surrogate sisters and I went to visit your dad and your kitten. It had been five months since I'd seen your kitten, and he has grown into the most beautiful cat I've ever seen. The moment I saw him I picked him up and held him close, and he rubbed his head against my chest, purring so loudly he made your surrogate sisters giggle.
Later that day, we were sitting in the kitchen when I heard your kitten meow for the first time since leaving him with your dad. I was instantly thrown back to the very first time I heard him meow in the hospital, and all the times that beautiful, sweet cry had bought me comfort in the weeks after losing you.
Your kitten meowed again, and I felt the tears spring from my eyes and fall freely down my cheeks. A moment later, I realised my eyes weren't the only things that had sprung a leak.
Even though my milk had dried up months ago, when I heard your kitten crying again, milky tears began seeping from my breasts.
I've been with your kitten for almost a week now, and still, every time he meows, my breasts cry for you.
Darling Zy, I guess what I want to tell you today is that I hear you. No matter who created you, or who's child you were supposed to be, or who was supposed to be your mother - I hear you.
And I always will.