Song time...

It was the end of play.

The children were tired but happy as they made their way to the mat at the front of the room.

A lady sat quietly, waiting for the children to ready themselves.

A myriad of colors.  Pinks, blues, pastels and brights.  Ponytails and ribbons.  Short boyish cuts.

Some parents dotted the room.  Proudly keeping an eye on the children.  Never really needing to acknowledge just how precious they are.

One mother sat on the floor with them.  Behind them, but still a part of them. 

On her lap a child.  In her heart, another.

The song started.

"Five little ducks went out one day... "

Little hands moved.  Simulating the actions they knew associated with the song.

"Over the hill and far away... "

The mother's hands moved too.  Sometimes a little behind.  Unsure.

Trying to remember.  Another time.  Another world. 

Before.

"Mother duck said "Quack, Quack, Quack, Quack"...

The mother's eye's quickly filled with tears and spilled down her cheeks.

She tightened her arm on the little one in front of her, as she hugged him to her.

Oblivious to his own preciousness.

Her chin tucked to her chest.  Her bottom lip quivered as she concentrated on staying "together".

Staying "acceptable" in our society.

Did anyone notice?  Did anyone wonder?  Did anyone know recognise the pain?

"But only four little ducks came back... "

:::

Yes.  It was me.

On Wednesday I took Toby to his first Playgroup session.  I enjoyed it, and Toby enjoyed it.  It's run in our new little town so it was an opportunity for me to get out there and meet people, in the hope of making new friends. 

Toby is only sixteen weeks old, so he's not really at the play and join in stage yet, but he enjoyed watching all of the little people.

At the end the older children gathered for a song and a story.  I was about to leave, but thought, why not?  Toby loves a story!

I don't really need to tell you what happened.  I already have.  I was caught by surprise.  It was one of those moments that hits like a ton of bricks.  I had no escape.

Of course things should be so different.  I never sang that song to Ciaran, but it's also one that I never had on my mental "playlist", so why should it be a trigger?

I guess it's the whole scene.  The picture in my head of the way it should be.  The joy on the faces of the little people around me, that should be on the face of another, conspicuous in his absence.  The baby in my arms who will never know his brother.  Who I hope will never know the pain that his parents know first hand.