As time passes, I tend to get angrier at past events that didn’t really faze me before all this. I guess I’m in a new stage of grief.
I’m not angry that the boys are gone – that’s still so painful to think about. I’m angry at the way it all happened. How I was left on a stretcher in the hallway of the ER for a half hour while no one checked on me. I’m angry at the way I was told, so cold and briskly by a doctor I’d never met and who never came in to see me again.
I’m angry at the hospital I was transferred to waking me up that second night after not sleeping for 48 hours to pile all the flowers and cards and clothes on top of me and wheel me to another room at 1am to save costs. I’m angry that it took a media storm for those stupid doctors to treat me like a human being instead of a hysterical moron. I’m angry that my last few days pregnant were spent stressed out and afraid I’d be asked to leave the hospital.
I’m so angry that even when it was all “done” – I still had to be told over and over how the two children that died in my hands weren’t really babies at all.
I’m angry that I can’t show any pictures of my babies on here. Ever.
I’m furiously angry at the people in our lives that made these months harder on Sam and I.
I also know that a lot of this is not productive. But I’m also learning that’s ok – this is simply how I feel. Right, wrong, indifferent. It’s part of my grief and healing process.
I’ve learned in our grief counseling that anger is a cover up emotion for so much more. So I’ll try to explain how I really feel.
I feel disrespected. I feel abandoned. I feel rejected by people in my life who were supposed to be there for me when this all went down. I feel cheated out of grief because I was so worried about what everyone else thought – which is completely my issue.
It’s not that I didn’t have a support system or women (and men) that stepped up to the plate when I simply couldn’t do anything more emotionally. I’ve talked a lot about that on here, but tonight is the flip side. I have to get it out. This wasn’t all sweet and lovely and wonderful – there were some really, really ugly sides to the past few months.
I’m working on it. Working on the anger in people that weren’t able to be there for us. The anger towards the doctors that were too wrapped up in policy to see a broken hearted set of parents that wanted their babies. The anger at the world for getting to the point where we can grieve the loss of a forest or lake but not of a baby born under 24 weeks or still.
Big anger. That’s ok, I’m working through it. I’m trying to remember to turn to God for a lot of this. He can handle my anger so it isn’t affecting others.
And I’ve learned this: unless you’ve walked this path and know what I went through, you can’t tell me I shouldn’t be angry.