Irrational thoughts and deep anger.

This was a conversation I was having online and it summed it perfectly.

Sometimes our heads think things, or thoughts pop in, or better described, feelings, or images. We can't control that. I bet I could name something every single day that has made me ashamed to have thought. Whether it is instantaneous or years later. What matters is what you do. You're not going to follow through and wish them the worst every single day, or sabatoge them or go out of your way.

Case in point, I will admit that within the last week I have contemplated many things anybody who knows me would be aghast at. Luckily I have a therapist who I can be honest with and say, 'I've had these thoughts and they bother me and sometimes scare me.' My most irrational thought and feeling that has occurred and reoccurred to me; my step sister in law (my dad's stepDIL, my stepmom's DIL) is now pg with her 3rd pregnancy, due in DECEMBER.

And you don't know how angry that makes me at them.

At the world. But especially at THEM.

I WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE A XMAS BABY. ME. I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE ARRIVING VICTORIOUSLY, HOME FOR CHRISTMAS WITH MY NEW BABY. I'M SO ANGRY AND HURT. This past Christmas no one once mentioned Myles when I was with them. It was the elephant the room and I felt contagious. Luckily I was still in shock at the time, but in hindsight, I can believe nobody just said, 'he Trish, I'm so sorry that happened to you'. I've had a lot of friends do it and be wonderful, but my son is dead less than a month and his name wasn't mentioned in that hous.

I don't wish them ill will, I've actually liked them, they're fun to talk to. That's the kicker, THEY ARE PERFECT and my Dad likes them better than me sometimes I think because I'm some liberal atheist. And they're like such conformists.

So what thought keeps running through my head? THEY STOLE MY BABY! That's how I feel, when I told my sistder that day, I just broke down and said, "they stole my baby" in sobs. And I'm sure they didn't do it on purpose, go out of there planning a December baby, and I'm sure they weren't thinking, they should stop ttc in March/April so they don't ruin every Xmas for me from here on out. I dread next Christmas with all my heart.

I'm so angry about this, even now, right this second, even though I know it's completely irrational. All I think is 'they stole my baby'.

My epiphany

I haven't had a religious epiphany from losing my son. When my grandmother said he was in the arms of Jesus, I said 'he's at peace', and that was it.

Weeks since then, I realized part of deconstructing me (see last blog about imperfection) was trying to remember again what it felt to really be joyous. What things really bring me joy, and which don't. I found joy in nothing for many months; not eating, not sleeping, not even Simones shenanigans.

But it all finally came down to the question: what do I want from this world in the short term? If you could live your last day, and you knew it, what would you do?
Well, what I realized is that I've come to a more naturalistic worldview. Not Wiccan (sp?) but just the cruelty and beauty of what life is. Every day should be a good day to die, and I put that quote on my profile only days before Myles died. I took it off, felt like an asshole, but I still believe it even though I can't accept the fact that he should have at least died in my arms if I was going to have to say goodbye forever.

So the other day, I layed in the sun, just plopped down on my front deck and soaked in the rays, and I was happy. And I've been thinking about planting a garden, I've been moving perennials, putting some rocks up, and I'm just learning, but its challenging and fascinating and the suns rays feel like Myles. I like to think his energy is apart of them.

So I guess what I find faith in is the cycle of life. People call people tree huggers, but have any of you hugged a tree? I have. It was terrific. And I'm going to plant a tree that I have for Myles, and I'm going to plant whatever I can for him in the next few weeks. Because he was here and just as quick he was gone, and he was just as much a part of the cycle of life that I am or you are. I told my daughter a loooong time ago that everything that lives must die. I remind her of it if she asks. But not in a dreary way, more like an adventure. I tell her if everyone lived forever, life wouldn't be so special. It would have neither beauty nor cruelty, and that in the grand scheme, we are pretty lucky to find ourselves here, in a finite world. And I think Myles was even fortunate, to live, even such a short life, with love, and laughter, and singing, and talk always revolving around him. He kicked my sister in the head, and punched or kicked at least every other person dear to me.

Maybe living and dying in the womb is so not so bad after all. No hunger, I like to think no pain, just a warm embrace and a slow awareness of the voices and sounds around you. And he was a part of our family, he heard not just our laughter, but our arguments, Simone's tantrums, and my stress. All the while he was warm and nurtured, and growing and learning, and he will never know the sadness we feel that he is gone. I'm glad for that. All he knew was contentment and wonder, and maybe that's not so bad?

He felt love, but never grief. Maybe it's selfish to wish him with me instead, maybe he had felt the best life had to offer, hopefully not the worst.