After my moaning about how I look I had a think back over my day. Whilst changing my baby I got chatting to the lady next to me, changing who I assumed was her granddaughter. The baby was an adorable black girl while the lady was white, hence I assumed that was the relationship. After chatting to her I found that she was in fact her foster carer as the mother had died when she was two weeks old. She had breast cancer and discovered it when she had the happy news she was pregnant, what a cruel, cruel twist of fate. The baby was delivered 2 months early, I’m assuming so the mummy could get cancer treatment. What a little warrior to be born early, the only comfort is that at least her mummy got some time. Thinking about her breaks my heart. My biggest fear is not being here to seen my girl grow up. To wipe her tears, hug her tight, make sure she eats her veggies and comfort her when she has bad dreams. Imagining how that lady must have felt knowing she would be leaving her beautiful girl is hard to comprehend. We are so lucky. The baby is also lucky to have a caring foster Mum who obviously adores her and is trying to adopt her as was the mummies wish before she passed. But what a bittersweet, selfless job to take someone else sweetheart and care for her. My heart aches for them.