I blog to get my frustrations down and out of my head. It helps to see them in print. It's comforting and therapeutic. But, I've found lately that what is coming out is all of the sentimental and sad parts of this ordeal. In the spirit of true honesty, I feel that I need to write about the other component. ANGER. I'm not always so sweet and strong and loving...etc. Sometimes I'm so pissed I can't see straight.
I ask 'why' almost every single minute of the day. I see kids being pulled around the garden of the hospital in wagons. They are pointing to flowers and smiling, and it makes me angry. I don't understand why it's us and not them. My niece was sick the same time Easton was, and it was most likely the same virus but she is fine and here we sit in this Hell. Do I want other people's children to be sick?? Of course not. And I love my niece, but that doesn't mean that I don't ask why. Does that make me a bad person? I don't know, but I'm willing to admit it as truth. I hate it when a nurse comes in and talks about her kids at home. She smiles and tells me some cute little story about her youngest getting into trouble, and it makes me WANT TO SCREAM!!!! I want to yell, "DON'T YOU GET THAT IT COULD HAVE JUST AS EASILY BEEN YOU?!?!!?" They've done countless tests, and have discovered that Easton doesn't have any immunodeficiencies. There is absolutely no reason that it's him and NOT the little boy that I saw eating french fries in the cafeteria and watching the fish swim around. So WHY?? WHY us? WHY him?
I also can't handle people telling me that they know how I must feel because they are mothers. Being a mother does not make you know what this is like. And telling me that your kid has been in the hospital before is probably not the best idea either. We aren't talking about needing a little oxygen or being dehydrated and needing fluids. That's sort of the "tball" of child hospitalizations. We are in the BIGS. I know people don't know what to say, and they are trying to make me feel better. I so appreciate the love and support of all of those surrounding me, that's why I feel it necessary to forewarn anyone who may have the unfortunate chance of talking to me anytime in the near future.
This is the not-so-pretty side, but it's still real. It's there, always lurking below the surface. Sometimes it's more than I can handle and it comes out in the form of hatred. I don't like this part of myself, but I also can't control it. I feel everything on a supercharged level now, and that includes anger.