Grief & Anger

I woke up today with the strangest familiar feeling. I went to the bathroom and sat on the cold tile floor trying to pull myself together. It didn’t work like it usual does. I turned the faucet in the shower as hot as it would go. By this point my hands were shaking so fervently I could barely grip the knob. I stepped in the shower and let it all go. Crying so hard I made myself hyperventilate.

 

I don’t know really what did it. I had a dream that stirred me and I knew this week would stir me, just not as much as it has already and it’s not even Sunday yet.

March 23, 2014. Sunday. My due date.

You think you’re on the mend, rearing a new corner, a new outlook, new hopes, new dreams, new life, happiness, joy, excitement. And then grief rears its ugly head back at you out of nowhere. God, I truly hate this process.

I have to say, I was honestly feeling great the last couple of months. I was beginning to feel more myself in January. February brought my sense of humor back and my exciting enthusiasm for life. And then, knowing this day, this week, this month was coming somehow I was still okay. I was doing great. Keeping busy with lots of exciting birthday festiveness, St. Patty’s Day parties and parades, welcome home parties, and the hustle and bustle of the new spring season beginning. But I woke up today and it was gone. The grief smacked me in the face without any warning. And the anger, that is back a little more than it was before. So here we are. The week Lylah was due.

I wasn’t anticipating this. I wasn’t expecting to fall apart today. Out of nowhere. I wasn’t prepared. I hadn’t thought of all of the positive things to remind myself yet. I hadn’t grabbed for my journal and reread all of those initial feelings just to remind myself look at you now, you’re doing so much better. You have a real handle on how God is working things in your heart.

And like usual, I’m sure God did this for a reason too. Because I’m different. My life is different. I’m never going to be the same person again. I’m a little broken inside; I have a missing piece of my heart I’ll never get back.

This morning I was shaken to my core again. I had feelings I haven’t had in a long time. I’m angry. Really angry. But not with God or my doctor or my husband. I’m angry at the people who aren’t at my side anymore. Even family.

The week we lost Lylah we were planning my baby shower with Austin’s side of the family. It was Thursday evening. Austin’s aunt was throwing it and she was working on finalizing the details. And then, just like that it was Sunday and my whole world was gone. Everything was gone. Everything was over. No party to plan. No nursery to finish. No clothes to buy. No bottles to sterilize. It was over.
That makes me angry.

In situations like this you find you suddenly have so many people that “care” and show up in your life again, whether wanted or not. You also find people that you thought would always be by your side leave. They don’t know how to deal with your grief. And since you’re different, it’s hard accepting that. It makes me angry thinking about these people and so many we consider family that have ignored me. Ignored that day. And ignored the fact that I buried my daughter. And I’m not okay. I’ll never be okay. But it would be nice to be asked, are you?

I feel like some people think I miscarried and It went away. I think some people refuse to accept that It, was a she, and her name is Lylah. And she was buried on top of Austin’s grandparents. I gave birth. I held my tiny one pound baby the entire night before giving her to a complete stranger to take to the funeral home. So this anger came from that. Thinking that these same people will probably ignore Sunday. Ignore this week, knowing full well it was my due date.

And that makes me so angry I want to scream. I’m not okay. I’ll never be the same. The Hillary they knew is gone. I’m happy, I have joy, I have sadness sometimes, I have anger at times, and I’m different. I think differently. I feel differently. I’m angry they haven’t been by our side.

I’m angry at the stillness, the slowness of this week. I’m angry I have to feel like this. I’m angry she’s gone. That that’s all I got with her. I didn’t get the chance to raise her. Today, I’m just angry. And I know that’s a part of my grief. I know it will pass. I’ll forgive and I’ll let go. But right now, in this moment, in the midst of this season of life I’m so very angry at the silence from the people that should make their presence known.