With a restless night of sleep and much contemplation, I realized that I don’t really hate this kid, I hate the situation. I hate that these two irresponsible, unfit parents get their son when my son was taken away from me. Even eight months down the line, I have such a hard time trying to make sense of that in my head. People say, “things happen for a reason”, but how do they explain this? There is no explanation. I just have to sit with the reality that things don’t make sense, these people aren’t more deserving of a child than me, but they got their child and I didn’t.
I hate that I am constantly faced with this reality; my son is dead and other peoples aren’t. When will the “why me’s?” go away? Will I ever be able to accept that this is forever my reality? When will I be able to be happy for others good fortune and healthy babies without being more sad about my loss and my crappy reality?
Some people assume that now that I am pregnant again (51/2 months) that things are “better”. Not perfect obviously, but as it was said to me, “I assumed that you would be able to find joy in things again”. At first, I thought that this statement was an unfair judgment that I have no joy, but when I really think about it is kind of true. I can laugh, I can be lighthearted, I can be hopeful for this baby, but am I truly joyful? I don’t think so. This baby doesn’t take away my deep despair and sadness about losing my son. I hope maybe, if I am lucky enough to birth to an alive, healthy baby in February, that I will find some joy again in my life. But, there will always be a hole. My family will never be complete. And, I don’t know if I will ever be able to get rid of the envy I have of others who do not know my reality.