Most days now, I have my anger under control. Anger, as babyloss moms know, is probably the last grief manifestation to leave: anger at the helplessness, the unfairness, at others who seem to get and stay pregnant so easily.
Some days, it still flares up, as it did on Ander day. On FB, K and I posted: “One year ago, on a similarly snowy night in Chicago, we said goodbye to our son. Today was therefore our last day of ‘firsts’ without Anderson and we celebrated his life by going for a winter hike and flying kites at the harbor. Thank you to everyone who has helped us to keep his memory alive this year and for years to come – we could not have weathered this storm without your love and support.”
We got so many likes and messages of support. Every one made me smile and be thankful. Except for one, from my cousin. Who was a drug addict with an eating disorder when she got pregnant at 21 with her boyfriend; said boyfriend was in jail by the time the baby was born (drugs, assault). She did not know she was even pregnant until she was six months, so add lack of prenatal care. Since her daughter’s (natural, normal) birth, she has dated yet another ex-con, lived primarily with her parents except when she ditched her daughter with them to move in with the boyfriend (that didn’t last long). She has a part-time job at an ice cream parlor, and now she lives with yet another boyfriend who has two kids from a prior relationship (two teen pregnancies) and who has been known to threaten on his FB wall to smash peoples’ heads in. Here’s what she had to say:
“So sorry for your loss, I hope you get to enjoy being parents again! Its such a wonderful blessing! He will never be forgotten! He’s in heaven with B and S’s baby…love you.”
Notice the completely insensitive dig in there? The “I’m so lucky and so blessed! Sucks that you’re not! Maybe you’ll be as blessed as I am someday!” dig? The “your baby is totally just like S’s 8-week miscarriage” dig?
Grrrrrr. Yes, yes, I get that she was trying to be all supportive and nice. And yes, intellectually I know that my life is probably much better and easier than hers, despite it all (her daughter, now 3 or 4, is a helluva handful, though I suspect the prenatal cocaine use and the very unstable upbringing so far is to blame).
Anyway, thanks for letting me vent. Here’s a “where the sidewalk ends” picture of my street from yesterday!