de ja vu

A friend visited this morning. While she was here some flowers were delivered. From my parents. Saying they are thinking of us this week. With those flowers came the end of the illusion that I'm fine and this is just another week. With those flowers the return (with a vengeance) of the old familiar nausea. With those flowers a time warp back to one year ago.

I sucked it up and pretended to listen to my friend. Relieved when she left at last.

A year ago we went through to Knysna for lunch, to a place called Cornuttis. It is gorgeous. Right by the Knysna Heads. I remember some older people chatting to us, asking if this was our first. We smiled naively, innocently, proudly.

I remember being anxious for the pregnancy to be over. I was missing my baby - since she had "dropped" on the Friday night she hardly moved at all, and when she did it was totally different. Very slow and soft. Or so I thought.

For some reason I don't have bad memories of Plett, as in I don't dread going to Plett - even though that's where we were that week. But Knysna. I think of the place and I feel ill. There was just an under current in that day of such dread and doom.

WOW I was in such denial. Idiot. Oblivious. I wonder if I will ever forgive myself for not realising, or admitting. Probably not.