Every morning when I wake up, a flood of sadness overtakes me. When I fall asleep at night I am gifted with hours of respite from my grief, but then it all comes rushing back in full force the moment I open my eyes. My broken heart takes full control of my body, reminding me over and over again that it's broken and empty. I just lay under my covers basking in my sorrow. I can't breathe. I can't think. All I can do is feel the weight of my loss.
But then, after a while, my brain finally wakes up. It takes back some of the control and helps me start my day. My brain tells me that yes, I carry a life-shattering sadness, but I am still living. I finally get out of bed. I shower. I get dressed in an outfit that makes me feel good. I do some cleaning, some school work, or go out for a little shopping. I do the things that I used to enjoy because my brain tells me to. My brain helps me keep living.
My brain helps me know that my life will go on, and that I have many happy moments ahead. I know that my grief will become easier to bear. I know that I still wake up each morning in a beautiful home with a lovable dog and a loving husband. I know that we are starting the journey to bring home our next baby. I know that I will enjoy, although be scared out of my damn mind during, my next pregnancy. I know that I had an unbelievable tragedy happen to me, but I am still living life. I know that I brought a beautiful daughter into this world, and that she will always be a beautiful memory and forever piece of my life. I know all of this because my brain tells me so.
I know so much, but I also feel so much, too. My heart allows me to feel all the sadness that I carry because my daughter died. It lets me feel the hurt and the pain of a mother who has no baby to hold, kiss and love on earth. My heart lets me feel anger and rage before logical thinking takes it away. It lets me feel jealousy, too. I don't even know who or what I'm jealous of, but my heart allows it. I get to feel guilt. My brain argues that one big time, but I feel it. I feel an unequivocal love for my daughter. I could only hold her after she was already gone, but I feel love, pride, and joy in the beautiful child my husband and I created. I feel whatever it is that comes my way, and that's because my heart lets me.
I am so glad I have both my brain and my heart working for me, even if they can be opposite forces. I need the logic and the focus and the planning that only my brain can provide, but I also need the feelings and emotions that my heart gives me. I need both.
I need both working together to give me what I need most right now, hope.
I can think and rationalize my way through our TTC process. I can read the statistics and understand the science behind a pregnancy. I can listen to my doctor's advice and updates and understand that another pregnancy is most likely going to be a successful and healthy journey for us. But, the thinking only gets me halfway there. That hope is also fed by the faith and love I feel in my heart. I feel that my God will bless us with more love and happiness. I feel that if I cling to the love I have for Charlotte and my husband that good things will come our way. I have to feel the hope for a brighter future as much as I have to think it.
And so, even though my head and my heart often work against each other, they also work together, too. They give me what I need to have hope for a happy future.