I know that sounds like a statement of relief, but it’s really not. I feel as if “Another Year Done” is a huge tick in the metaphorical box of life, a massive achievement on our part. I am not one to wish time away, quite the opposite; but I knew from the start that I had to be kind to myself in 2017 and so getting through it feels epic. This time last year I felt utterly miserable; I honestly couldn’t see the wood for the trees. I couldn’t fathom how, after Teddy had already died, we could go on to lose another baby; our rainbow. Life was feeling incredibly, dare I say, unfair; and I wanted things to turn around for us so desperately. I recall the walk we took on New Years Day, as we do every year; and I remember us saying to each other that this year, 2017, it had to get better. Let’s face it, I don’t think it could have got much worse.