Finding our way for Finn

Our son Finn had cystic fibrosis. One day we had a normal, happy, healthy life, a happy, healthy one year old and a happy, healthy pregnancy. Within just three months we were arranging a funeral for our beautiful baby son, we were cystic fibrosis carriers, I was a different person and our lives had changed beyond all belief. This is a very brief snapshot of how our journey started. Finn was meant to be healthy, there was no reason why he wouldn’t be. My husband and I are from large, healthy families; a very boring first mid-wife appointment with me answering ‘nope’ on default just went to show we had nothing to worry about. I happily walked and ran and chased my one year old around throughout my pregnancy with no worries. I was fit and happy and within touching distance of the two kids, two dogs, loving husband family I’d always expected.  I remember going on a weekend break to Loch Tay when I was about 32 weeks pregnant, we’d just come in from a walk, the rain was do

I miss my son, I miss him daily, I miss his hands, his feet, his little chin, I miss our fight, his life, the chance we'd win. I miss the moments he'd hold my hand, his fingers curling, gripping and clinging to mine,  I miss him every moment, every second, I miss our time. We should have had longer, he shouldn't have died, I should have seen him grow up, grow stronger, I should have watched him learn and live and love, We should have had longer.