Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Dead Kids Don't Count

I have been in a good place with my grief lately. Which is why I haven't felt the need to post lately. I mean how many times can I whine about missing my Bug before even I get sick of it? However, like an elastic band stretched too taut, my grief snapped back. Apparently, I haven't been paying it enough attention of late. Like I forgot to water my Chia Pet.

So I am here to say I am sad. Still. It really chaps my ass that I feel this way. I don't like wallowing, but there is just no way around the fact that my boy died. Is gone. And I have to trudge forward in the quiet hope that one day in our aftermath we will be reunited. It just doesn't seem enough. I am jealous of all those parents who still have their kids. I am angry with those parents who whine to me about their kids. I am completely, utterly, undeniably losing my mind with grief. At least today. Tomorrow, maybe my grief and I will be good buddies again.

I know what is exacerbating my emotions. My sister's upcoming delivery of "the child who will save this family." Or so my mother likes to think. She has completely replaced any feelings of grief with the excitement of the arrival of Mortimer, or whatever the heck it's name will be. This frustrates me, just because I haven't been able to replace my feelings. I understand why she has moved on. I just don't like it. She has effectively replaced the dead baby with a live one. Maybe I need to look into that. Hmm...

Mommy dearest, has informed me and my honey that it is time to move on. To support my sister in her life as a single mother. That it is time to fold our memories away and focus on this new baby. But as I hate to point out, this new baby is not my baby. I will get to see it once every few weeks if I am lucky. I do live in the sticks after all. And how does the arrival of new life diminish the loss of old life?

I have bitter feelings about this, my mom and I don't get along very well and might never. But it pisses me off that she accuses me on not moving on because I am unwilling to forget the inconvenient fact that I had, have three children. It is like accusing a woman of P.M.S'ing when she has a valid reason to be angry. Or worse yet, when my husband tells me I am irrational. Bastard.

Maybe I am just jealous and sad that my sis gets to have what I lost. And that this baby will never know their cousin the Shalebug. Will never appreciate what a person with a disability can bring to a family. This child will never have his or her life touched by my angel. And that just sucks.