The heat pushing through the vents is all I hear. The kids have finally gone to sleep; Scott is getting ready for bed, and I am lying here wishing away the last 2 days. Today, especially, opened my eyes to the true grieving process. I am not sure why in heaven’s name I thought I was ok, after only 3 months of knowing (and not knowing) what challenges lie ahead for Samuel- for us. I remember reading a book one of Sam’s therapists gave us about grieving the loss of “what could have been.” One of the stages of grief listed was anger. I kept telling Scott that I was not angry. I never got angry about any of this- the struggles, the diagnoses, the appointments, the therapy, the delays. I had a supreme type of sadness, yes. But, anger? Nope.
Until today.
I woke this morning with sore jaw muscles, as if I had clenched my teeth all night, which is probably exactly what I did. My fingers ached to the bone. Even my scalp hurt. My body was raging. And, it didn’t stop there. I was hurting to the very core of my soul. My innards were as angry as my body felt. The tears started pouring before my feet hit the ground, and I was furious. I didn’t know why, but it felt as though the anguish I was having just spewed from the inside out.
I could barely walk the stairs to the kitchen. I didn’t want to look or talk to anyone. I just wanted to scream as loud as my voice would carry the sound. Scream until I ran out of voice. Scream for all the what ifs. Scream for all the I don’t knows. Scream at my body for betraying me and giving my child more chromosomal material than he needs- so much more, that it will affect him for the rest of his life.
In that instant, I hated myself. I couldn’t stand one more minute of me.
This self-loathing continued throughout this day and into the darkness. This unbearable anger has still not subsided. It is tucked neatly beneath the surface, just enough for me to carry on.
But, I know now why it is called “the stages of grief.” I understand now that the stages flow differently for each person. Today, I am angry.
Tomorrow, maybe I won’t be. Tonight, I will seek the comfort that only He can give, listen to the air flowing, and pray for joy. I miss joy.
thisblandlife 