Today I am angry. And jealous. But mostly angry.
I am angry at hearing the news that friends of ours are pregnant. Angry that they get to announce their pregnancy without fear or secrets. Angry that they have other kids. Angry that, by all appearances , they got pregnant easily. Angry that as their family grows, mine seems to stay the same- me, my husband and our dead daughter. Angry that their announcement is joyful and not full of trepidation, knowing all the awful that could happen, having seen what happened to me.
I know the more appropriate word would be jealous- I am envious of all these things. But I don’t particularly feel jealous. I really just feel angry.
I’m angry that by announcing their pregnancy they have shut me out. In truth, it is me who will be shutting them out. This is what I do- I avoid my pregnant friends and those with babies, mostly because I can not bear having my feelings of jealousy and pain be witnessed. I am angry that they are choosing pregnancy over my friendship.
These are the crazy, irrational emotions of a lunatic. What kind of miserable, venomous person could think this way? This anger is unfounded and unfair. This anger is wrong.
It lives in me and I am ashamed. Ashamed and angry.
This is my grief talking. I wouldn’t be angry if my daughter had not died.