Lately, anger has been a prevalent issue at group. I know it is one of the steps in the grieving process, and I have been thinking about it alot. At first I thought there was something wrong with me because as I looked back over the last year, I really couldn't pinpoint a time at which I felt truly angry that Boe was gone. As I recall the last year's events, there really is no one I can blame for what happened, so how can I possibly be angry?
Yet, the more I think about it, the more the anger builds. The more it builds, the more horrified and disgusted I am with myself. I am angry at YOU. When Adam and I found out we were expecting triplets, our world turned upside down. How were we gong to do it? I would have to stay home and we are both teachers. How would I care for 3 babies and a toddler all by myself? What if my children were not OK since a multiple birth presents with such a plethora of risks, how would we handle it? The answer, to me, was simple. We just would.
God, I believed in you. I believed that you would not give me more than you felt I could handle. I believed that you must think me pretty special to entrust me with not 1, but 3, new babies. Every night as I put Libby to bed, she and I would pray. Our last prayer was always for the health and safety of her unborn brothers and mommy. Until April 22, 2010 our prayers were being answered.
Perhaps I had myself fooled. Throughout my pregnancy I had myself convinced that God loved me too much to bless me with 3 precious boys only to have something bad happen. God, something worse than bad happened, something unspeakable happened. In the days immediately following Boe's death, I clung to you. I was sure that if I held fast to my faith, I would be OK. It comforted me to know that Boe was safe in Heaven with you.
Now 1 year later, knowing that he is safe with you is not a comfort, but a source of anger and pain. Wasn't I good enough to be his mommy? Was there something wrong with me? With Adam? Don't we deserve him? Adam and I are good people, we live our lives trying to be of service to others. We live our lives trying to do the right thing, and look where it got us.
God, I know this may sound sacrilegious or blasphemous. I think that is why it has taken me so long to identify and speak about the source of my anger. I am ashamed that I am angry with you. I no longer wish to go to church on Sundays; to do so is actually a painful reminder of my loss, as it is the last place Boe was actually close enough to touch. I no longer say prayers for health and safety before I go to bed each night, what is the point?
Sayings like, "God does not give you more than you can handle" or, "God has a plan" or, "God doesn't make mistakes" no longer comfort me or give me the strength to keep going. Rather they anger me and make me shake my head because I cannot handle that Boe is gone, I do not understand how you keeping my baby is a good plan, could it be that you did, in fact, make a mistake?
God, I used to turn to you in my deepest, darkest hours of need. I would pray, bargain and plead for you to help me sort out what was wrong in my life, and you always seemed to deliver. But now, you are the one who has caused my deepest darkest hour of need. How am I to free myself this time? To whom can I turn now?