Just a little something to remember the absolutely heart-breaking scenes we watched six years ago today. I hope you enjoy it. x

It was six years. I still remember it as if it were yesterday. They say that grief eases with time, but it doesn't. Every special occasion, every new child born around you, every happy family you walk past, every day, opens fresh heartache.

It's not fair. Why did my little girl never get given a proper chance to live her life? I remember when they told me. I would have done anything to swap places with her. I still would. I feel selfish, why do I get to live my life with all the mistakes that I've made, and she doesn't even get a shot?

I don't think that Peter remembered what day it is today. I'm not too sure whether he remembers anything that happened over those few months, he was drinking so heavily. I was so sure at one point that he would actually kill himself in the process. In the few weeks that followed, I drank too, hoping that the pain of losing the baby would go away, but it was the only thing that remained the forefront in my mind. We don't talk about that period in our lives, but sometimes I wish that we'd talk about her.
Saying that, it's too easy to say that I would like to sit down with Peter and talk about the loss of our beautiful baby girl, but I'm not sure what I'd actually say. Even though she grew inside me, I never met her. I don't have much to say, other than I loved her, I still love her and I miss her, and will do for the rest of my life.

Even through I never got the chance to properly meet her, I think about her all the time. Questions circling around in my head that I know I'll never get an answer to. Who would she look like? Who would she act like? Would she have her Daddy wrapped around her little finger? Although now, I'm almost certain that the answer to that last question would have been a massive yes. I see how Peter is with Bertie – a pushover, a big softy, someone that would have made a great father to our little girl.

I never doubted Peter's parenting abilities, despite what had happened in the past with Simon. Maybe it was because I was too consumed with the thought that I might turn into my mother. I wasn't sure that I could love my baby, after all, she didn't love hers. But I soon realised the difference between her and I; I grew to love my baby, more than she ever could. At just twelve weeks old, my baby had a Mummy that loved her more than anything in the world. All the fears that I had in my mind were pushed right to the back, I was so consumed with love and contentment that I was certain I would never have, especially at the start of my pregnancy. But I did.

Those thoughts that I initially had, about a termination, I will regret for the rest of my life. If I hadn't had thought about it, she might never have left me. It's my fault. It has to be. When I asked why, the nurse in the hospital told me that these things just happen. They don't. Everything has to happen for a reason. I must have done something wrong. I was too wrapped up in the affair to worry about my stress levels, too concerned with work to eat, but one thing that I was sure of, even through all of that, was that my baby would be worth everything horrible that had happened to me in my entire life – she would have completed me. She never got the chance.

I know that Hayley's looking after her. Wherever they both are, I know that my little girl is safe with her. It's a comfort to think that she has someone up there with her. I'm glad it's Hayley, she would really take care of her for me until I, or Peter, got to be with her.

Peter asked me once, after a long day looking after Bertie, whether he thought we would have any children of our own one day. I just laughed him off. I mean, we're too old now to have a baby, it was a stupid question, but it wasn't the fact that it was an almost impossible suggestion that got to me, it was the fact that we already had a baby. Even though she wasn't there with us, she was still ours. I wasn't mad at him for saying that he did, he didn't mean any malice, but it hurt. He was right though, I wasn't really a Mum. Almost, but not quite.

For the first few seconds this morning, it was as if everything was as normal, until it felt as if I had been punched in the gut, as if I was losing her all over again.
I still remember everything about that day: collapsing in the street, getting to the hospital, telling me that I was going to lose her, telling me that there was nothing else that they could do. I don't remember much after that. It was all an insignificant blur. Nothing else mattered. Over the past few weeks, I had been staying strong for the sake of my baby, but she was gone. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered and it seemed as if nothing would matter again. It did, maybe just not as much. Everything was put into perspective.

Today was a nice day. It was warm, but not too hot. A nice day for a picnic, or to go to the park and play. It was a perfect day to remember her. In the morning I decided to go to the red rec, to clear my mind, to think about nothing but her. That was the least she deserved. Today was her special day. It was the only day out of the whole year that she ever really had.

I ended my journey in the peace garden, enjoying the comfort it seemed to bring me. I was in my own bubble, and it was beautiful.

Time wasn't something that Carla felt the need to worry about, and to be honest, she was enjoying the time on her own to think, without feeling suffocated. Roy had seen Carla come past the café a while a go, and after a worried Peter had asked him whether he had seen her, he seemed to know exactly where to find her.

"You've been out here for a while." Roy commented, sitting down next to Carla.

"Have I?" Carla asked, as she looked at a patch of flowers opposite the bench.

"About thirty minutes." He replied informatively, before a peaceful silence washed over them. "I haven't forgotten what day it is today." Roy added.

"Neither have I." Carla replied, taking a hold of Roy's hand in her own.

"I wondered about calling round later, but I didn't want to intrude." He explained, as Carla broke the gaze that she had developed over the flower patch, opting to turn and face Roy.

"Oh Roy, you'd never be intruding." She told him, sighing that even after all this time, he was still conscious of things like that.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, knowing the response he was likely to receive, also knowing the truth.

"Fine." She lied, smiling half-heartedly.

"Peter was looking for you earlier." Roy mentioned, looking at Carla, trying to judge her current mental state.

"Was he?" Carla asked in reply, a little shocked. She had assumed that he was at work today.

"Yes, I think he was a little concerned." He explained.

"I better get back then." She mumbled, getting up from where she was sat, as Roy followed.

"If you ever want to talk…" Roy offered, trailing off, as Carla engulfed him in a hug.

"Thank you." She smiled painfully, before heading back to number one.

As she unlocked the door, Peter immediately jumped off the sofa to come and greet her. "I thought you would be at work." She told him before placing her keys on the side. "I decided to take the day off." He revealed, as he followed Carla into the living room before she sat down where he was previously sat. Peter sat next to her, before wrapping his arm around her, pulling her in close.
It was precisely at this moment that she had the desire to talk about her baby girl, something which they hadn't previously done in depth. Maybe it'd be good, for the both of them, although it might make Peter feel guilty and that was the last thing she wanted. In amongst her conflicted thoughts, she got her answer, as Peter spoke softly. "I think about her too, you know." He mused. "I mean, I know that I wasn't there for you as much as I should have been, but…" Peter continued, before being interrupted by Carla shuffling and getting up from where she was sat. "I'm sorry, you probably don't want to talk about it" He panicked, wondering whether he had upset Carla. "No." Carla stopped him, a small smile on her face. "I want to talk about her." She revealed. "Come with me." She instructed, leading him to their bedroom.

Peter sat on the bed, as he watched Carla go into the wardrobe. She fetched a light pink box, before placing it on the bed and sitting next to her partner.
"I loved her, I wanted to get the chance to prove I could be a good Dad, you know?" Peter confessed, as Carla handed him the scan photograph. "You were already a great Dad." She told him, as she reached in and grabbed the teddy bear she had bought for her baby, holding it close to her chest. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, before cuddling into Peter. Peter continued to look intently at the photograph he had been handed while instinctively wrapping his arm around her waist.

The couple had remained where they were for a few minutes, before Peter decided to break their mournful silence. "I'm sorry." He apologised, as Carla looked to him. "Don't be. It's all water under the bridge now." She told him, as she reached from his hand that was still placed on her hip, she entangled her fingers in his. "There's no point in apologising." She added. "There is though Carla." He argued, sitting up properly, and pulling away from her. "If I hadn't had the affair, put you through all of that stress then…" He attempted to explain before Carla stopped him. "Peter, I really don't want to think about that." She told him. "Who's to say that I wouldn't have lost her anyway?" She asked him rhetorically, before handing him the bear she still had in her hand. "She would have been so beautiful." He told her, as he held the bear in his hand, and folding the scan photo, before handing it to Carla.
Instead of placing the picture back in the box, she put it on her bedside table. "She would have been six this year." Carla informed him softly, as he nodded. "I remember it like yesterday." She added, chewing on her bottom lip. "Me too." Peter told her. "I remember I was telling Deirdre how much I wanted to be there with you, you know, at the hospital." He recalled. "She told me that I needed to sober up, she brought me what seemed like a gallon of coffee." He chuckled slightly. He was sure that if he hadn't have laughed, he would cry. He felt as if he had caused Carla so much hurt and pain. Peter leant on the headboard at the top of the bed, as Carla joined him, snuggling into his chest, as he still clutched the plush toy. She reached out and played with the bears soft fur.
"We'll always remember her, you know. How much we love her and miss her, it won't go away, but I'm always here for you, whenever you need me." He reassured her, before placing a soft kiss in her hair.
"I know." She told him in response, continuing to find comfort from the white teddy.
"I'm so proud of you, love." Peter confessed, as he handed the soft toy to Carla. "I love you so much." He reminded her, planting another kiss in her hair.
"I love you too."

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