Rage

It's Christmas - the first Christmas without our baby. I have been crying every day for a week. It's almost too much to bear.

We attended the SHARE Christmas Memorial last Thursday at our hospital. We attended to honor our daughter, thank the womderful nurses who tended us during the worst days of our life, and show support other bereaved parents, some newly bereaved, others going on 12 years. It was an emotional event, so much so that DH left after the first musical number, not to be seen until the end of the event. Both of us have been in the pit ever since.

Grief is hard. There are rare days where I can manage my life without tears - those are the good days. My grief is never off my mind, but I do find days where I can manage without crying. I feel numb and sad, but generally there are few if any tears on 'good' days. Then there are days where I cry a little bit, but am still able to function and go about work, laundry, cooking, etc. My sad, functional days. There are lots of variations on this theme, each progressively worse until I reach rage. Today was one of those days.

I went to 10am Mass, hoping to gain some peace and to praise the Lord on His birthday. Instead, I felt tormented by babies and toddlers all around. I left early and went to visit my daughter's grave, and began to cry before my car even reached the cemetary. As I reached her grave, I sobbed apologies to my baby - sorry that it was Christmas and that we weren't able to be together. Sorry that we are missing out on our lives together. Sorry that her mother is a sniveling, sobbing wreck who comes to cry at her daughter's grave. It's not the way I want my daughter to see me. I want so badly for her to be joyful in Heaven, to be at peace with the Lord. And here I am, telling her how much I wish I were dead so I could be with her. I feel like a terrible parent and I ask that she not worry about her dad and I. I ask her to forgive me for sobbing to her.

On the way home I became angry, enraged. We go to church to praise God and are to be thankful for the good things in life. For life itself. What am I to be thankful for? If God is all-powerful and can claim responsibility for all of the good things we have, why can't I hold Him responsible for all of the misery as well? He is responsible. He took my daughter away. He could have saved her, but He didn't. Why? To teach me some cosmic lesson? To make me fear Him even more??? Is He happy that I fear Him more than I love Him? Life is full of suffering. Anytime we let in love, we let in suffering. This is life - and welcome to it. Wow - what a fucking good time.

I am enraged today. I have been crying for almost 7 months now - I am tired of holding the anger in. Tired of trying to be a better person - of going to Mass every Sunday hoping that this will be the week that I feel some peace and comfort.
I'm tired of missing my baby and wish I could just lay down on her grave and die. This is no life to be thankful for.