My grandad once told me a story about a Tribe who believed that when people die they journey high up into the sky, and that the stars are their campfires.
Réalti means ‘little star’ in Old Irish, and Réalta means star.
One day I hope to build our own campfire, where nobody is missing and nobody will be without the other.
So if you are out there my little Star, I hope you know how loved, and how very very missed and wanted you are.
Sweet dreams my little star, I cannot believe it has been 6 months without you all ready.
I love that story, I like too think our own little stars are waiting for us up there, that we’ll one day be together again. Do I truly believe it? Honestly I don’t know but I have hope.
Surviving Miscarriage Together 