Anger

They - whoever the hell 'they' are - say that anger is a part of healing.  Being angry at life, God, yourself, people around you, or nothing at all.  This makes me often wonder how long this healing process will take, as I have not experienced anger yet.  And I am afraid of when it arrives, if 'they' are right and it's on its way...

People often ask how I can not be angry.  There are lots of reasons, the most significant to me is anger won't fix anything.  Being angry will not bring Colton back.  Being angry won't promote healing.  Being angry won't do anything but cause me to self-destruct. 

I have plenty of reason to be angry, as people have pointed out.  First, obviously, because Colton is dead.  I never had the opportunity to hold him, feel his warmth, his soft breath, and calm quiet coos.  Never heard him wail out in need and comfort him and care for him.  I never got to experience him.  I could be angry because he was my fifth pregnancy and nothing had gone wrong before.  Because I delivered twice as a surrogate for other families - including triplets - and they are all fine and healthy and happy.  Angry because it's just not fair.

I choose to see it from the other side.  I am fortunate I never saw my son suffer.  He never had to hurt, to feel disappointment, to go without, to want without fulfillment.  I feel fortunate I didn't have him for a few days, months, or years then lose him.  I didn't get to know his personality, experience his life, THEN have it pulled away from me.  I feel fortunate I blessed other families with the beauty of a child (and children).  I feel fortunate that now not only do I have sympathy but true empathy for their losses.  I feel fortunate I can share Colton with others and hopefully, someday, be able to help others as my angel mom friends have helped me.

The other reason I chose not to live in anger is it will not honor my son.  What a tragedy would it be if I crumbled into a shell of me?  If Colton were to watch me and wonder where the mother went that loved him and cared for him so much for the short eight and a half months spent together?  What tragedy would it be to not love his brothers and his father as he would have? If God forbid it ruined Brian and I, if the parents that shared the love for their son forgot to love all together? 

I get up in the morning, dress myself, put on my makeup, do my hair, and start my day - even when I would love to lay in bed with Colton's blanket all day.  I smile and laugh, I love and I live ... to honor my son.  I want my son to be proud of my strength.  To know that each day I live in honor of him, in spite of our loss, and in hope for our future. 

I will not pretend for a second that it's easy.  It would be a lie to say I don't cry or that I don't hurt like mad or that I don't want to stay in bed all day sometimes.  The loss of a child was explained to me as an open wound that sometimes gets a light scab across it; and the lightest of motions can rip it wide open again.  The loss of a child is the first time in life when I truly think of healing as "one step forward, two steps back".  It's the most challenging test of our souls and our hearts. 

It would be easy to be angry.

But as the saying goes, "Nothing in life worth having is easy".