25/01/2017 12:41 GMT | Updated 26/01/2018 05:12 GMT

When Sorry Will Never Be Enough

imagewerks via Getty Images

I remember the day we found out we were both pregnant, we began making plans for the future.

We soon settled into being the best of pregnancy friends.

It was our little secret, a bond between us, as women, as mothers.

We laughed when neither of us could face Christmas dinner and when I was sick in a bush on Boxing Day.

We shared our weird cravings, brought crisps for each other and we confided in each other when we were down.

I told you things I hadn't told anyone as I knew you would understand.

I didn't feel crazy talking to you, I felt normal.

You were my sanity in those first few weeks.

We talked about being on mat leave together, having newborns within weeks maybe even days of each other.

We laughed when I was I as in maternity clothes from six weeks, and we discussed where to get the roomiest jeggings from!

We helped each other when morning sickness reared its ugly head.

The future was our ever expanding tummies and ever changing cravings.

It was our summer babies.

Then one day it was gone, in the most brutal of ways.

The dreams of having our babies together, ceased to exist.

Only one of us was still pregnant.

The guilt I had for it not happening to me, hung heavy in the air.

I mourned for what could have been, what should have been between us.

We should still be sharing this together.

You should not have had to face this.

Your heart should not have been broken like this.

I am sorry I had no words.

That the sadness engulfed me for what I had, and you no longer did.

I am sorry you have to watch me go through my pregnancy, that I may remind you of what could have been.

You were so brave.

You told me to act normal with you and not to make a fuss.

I wanted more than anything to make this better for you. To make it right.

But, it was something no one could do.

Our babies should have grown up together, started school in the same year.

We should have given birth together, and shared our stories.

Instead you faced the most awful night of your life where you lost your baby.

You were cruelly reminded when you were wheeled out past all the pregnant bumps in the waiting room.

Faced with what you had lost.

The bond we had is something I will always treasure.

It is something that can never be forgotten or replaced.

You are amazing, one of the bravest and strongest people I know.

My words mean very little in the great scheme of what has happened but they are from the heart.

This is my letter to you, when sorry is not enough.