Morning is broken

 
I'm finding the mornings the hardest part of the day at the moment. When I'm asleep the pain of our reality is numbed, and so when I wake up it takes a few moments before what has happened sinks in all over again. And I can feel the sadness and ache creep inside of me and take a hold of my heart once again. I miss our baby so much the words evade me, as it's so much more than I imagined it would be.

I try and comfort myself and rationalise my sadness - I have the Boy, we love each other so much, we are in this for life, we can try again, our dreams may only be postponed not ended, we're both open to adoption if there is a problem naturally yet to be detected, this isn't the end it's just the beginning of our journey into parenting... but my words fall upon deaf ears. I really wanted this baby. And it's the loss of this baby that hurts - my first one. The first time I have ever been pregnant and felt the morning sickness, felt the fatigue, felt my maternal instinct kick into being with a force I couldn't have predicted, felt the anticipation and the excitment of when the baby would kick and what gender it would be, felt the wonder that a life was beginning in side of me, felt the things my body could do that I'd never known about...

I know this will all take some time to subside and I have to let go and ride out the wave, let the emotion wash over me, and let our inner strength carry us through. Which it will, I am in no doubt. But it hurts, and I know it will until we come out of this the other side, and beyond. If only life had a fast forward button and I could wake up again in a few months - I know things will feel different in only a short space of time, but I want to resist the pain that comes before the relief in taking those few steps forward.