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Wednesday, November 11, 2015

The Other Side of Grief

Grief has this reputation: tears, immense sadness, and red-rimmed eyes.  It’s not a faulty reputation but it certainly isn’t a totally fair, all encompassing picture.  A lot of times the other sides of grief are confusing, making you feel like you are grieving wrong, that you shouldn’t be feeling the way you are. For me, it’s the anger.  I feel so angry, so often and it just feels so wrong, like its so out of place inside of a broken heart.  I’m mad everything and nothing at all.  I’m mad at everyone and know that there is really no one to be angry with.  I don’t want to be angry, it’s exhausting and it feels terrible. 

I find myself feeling angry during the times that seem understandable to me; holidays that would have been Jack’s first, seeing people, seemingly, take for granted the moments I would gladly soak in or them put the wellbeing of their children at stake, and the times when I’m not strong enough to say “no” when people ask if Kennedy is my only one.  But it’s the times that I’m blindsided by it that feel the worst. 

Like yesterday.

On my way to work I was stopped at a traffic light and so I checked Facebook quick while I waited for the green.  The first thing that I saw was the “On this Day” memory post.  It was the picture we’d taken of Kennedy, letting the cat out of the bag that we were expecting Jack.  That same day we were told that he had Down syndrome and I was devastated both about the diagnosis and at the thought that Sean might never get to have the amazing experiences that happen between a father and son. When we go home that night and I had decided we would share the good news we’d gotten of the day with our family and friends through text and Facebook and I came up with the idea of the blue lollipop to give a telltale sign (it was all Sean who thought to include “little bother” Kennedy’s favorite little doll).  It was a perfect picture in so many ways.


But when I saw it yesterday, I swear to you, I almost through my phone at the windshield.  First, I was angry that that was the first thing I saw, it crushed me, twisted my fragile heart and would ruin my morning, probably my whole day.  Then I felt the anger at myself rushing back at me as I can vividly remember sobbing at the doctor’s office and telling Sean I was so sorry.  I am furious at myself for thinking that our son having Down syndrome could be the worst thing that could happen to an expecting mother and father, and for being foolish enough to not take in the happy moment of learning we would be having a boy; I let that slip by.  And lastly, I was angry that the sight of my beautiful baby girl, excited about the real life little brother that would be coming for her to take care of, had me so angry and so upset. 


It’s not fair.  The memories of expecting Jack are really all I have except for those few short hours we spent with him, and so I don’t want to feel so angry when they surface.  Sometimes I think the constant crying was easier.  It was clearer to people what was taking place, simpler to understand.  But that’s the thing about grief.  We don’t get to choose how it takes it course.  And so, I do my best to drink in the happiness as it comes to me, and yet sometimes that feels strange as well, but I inhale it deeply and hope to God it will soothe my soul.

And now, some photos of those happier moments this past weekend:





My 15k ladies! 



She ran a whole mile! 



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