By Amy Peterson
Grief is messy. This is a simple truth that much of society still doesn’t want to accept. Some people try to sugarcoat it. This only causes further pain because sugarcoating it implies that there is some “right” or “socially acceptable” way to grieve. You’re supposed to feel sad and shed some tears for a few weeks. Then it’s time to put your grief away. You shove it into some metaphorical box in a dusty corner of your mind and get back to your life, right? Wrong. Grief doesn’t work that way.
A very painful lesson I learned after losing my mom and son is that grief doesn’t come with a rule book or manual. It doesn’t have timelines, deadlines, or guidelines. It doesn’t bring only sadness. It brings every emotion with it. Most of us aren’t prepared for that. It can be absolutely terrifying to feel a chaotic flood of emotions overtaking your body.
Pregnancy and infant loss is already a taboo subject in this world. It shouldn’t be but it is. This taboo only makes it infinitely more difficult for loss parents to share the full weight of their grief, even within the loss community itself. One of the most delicate topics for loss parents to talk about is the so-called “taboo” emotions… the so-called “bad” and “shameful” emotions. Their names are jealousy and anger. Bitterness and resentment are cousins. We as loss parents get hit two-fold because not only do we tend to shame ourselves for feeling anger and jealousy but we also get shamed by the outside world. The problem is that these emotions are completely normal when faced with such soul-shattering grief. Yes, they are negative emotions, but feeling them after losing a child does NOT make you a bad, mean, or selfish person. It just makes you a grieving parent. It means that you’ve survived hell. You’re emotionally, and even physically, aching from head to toe. You’ve been sentenced to life in emotional prison without your child (or children).
Grieving the loss of a baby is so unique that there aren’t many words to adequately describe it. A person who loses a spouse is a widow. A person who loses their parents is an orphan. There’s not even a name for parents who lose a child.
Child loss is against nature. A parent is supposed to die before their child, not the other way around. It’s no surprise then that the emotions surrounding this nightmare are gnawing, heavy, raw, and messy. We’re stuck in some strange twilight zone where we miss the little life we knew and the life that we never got to know.
Losing a baby feels like being robbed at gunpoint of the most precious gift you could ever be given. You’re screaming and fighting to hang on to your child. You’re crying out, pleading, bargaining, and scratching at the attacker’s face with every ounce of your strength. Then you realize that the “attacker” you fought so valiantly is invisible. The attacker is death and we were powerless against it. Wouldn’t anyone be angry if they fought so hard for something only to lose it because they never had a fighting chance to begin with? Wouldn’t you be angry if the attacker came for you despite the fact that you did nothing to deserve its wrath?
I have experienced the most intense anger of my life since losing my son. I’m angry at the doctor whose negligence made sure our son couldn’t survive the infection that overtook him. I’m angry at the nurses who spread false information regarding pregnancy complications, refused to listen to my concerns for weeks, and caused further trauma to my husband and me. I’m angry at the healthcare system that is failing so many parents like me. I’m angry that I don’t get to raise my little boy. I’m angry that each year on his birthday I have to visit a cemetery where the only thing growing up is the grass around his headstone. I’m angry at the world for being unfair and for being a place where good people suffer. I’m even angry at God sometimes because I don’t understand any of this. My husband and I are far from perfect but I believe that overall we are good people and we deserve to be parents. I don’t understand why any baby has to die before they can even truly experience life.
I envy people who haven’t lost a child. I envy those who don’t have to battle infertility and scale mountains to have healthy, living children. I’m jealous of moms who get to watch their babies grow into toddlers, preschoolers, middle-schoolers, and high school graduates. I’m jealous of parents who get to hug their children, calm their fears, dry their tears, and tuck them into bed each night. I’m jealous of those women who hear their child call them Mommy. I’ll never hear my child speak a single word. Elijah will never go to school. He will never meet the love of his life. I will never get to cry tears of joy on his wedding day. I’ll never be able to watch him experience the infinite blessing of becoming a parent to his own child. Many loss parents are told to “just have another baby” and that will fix our grief. That statement is hurtful and invalidating because you can’t replace another human being. Some people seem to forget that babies grow into adults. Everyone walking around on this planet was once an embryo in their mother’s womb. My mom passed away in 2011. I can’t just get another mom. She was a unique human being with unique DNA from the very beginning of her life, just like every baby.
Do you know why I’m angry and jealous? It’s not because I have hatred in my heart for parents of living children. It’s not that I have hatred in my heart for children who get to grow up on earth. It’s not that I wish for people to suffer through what I’ve been through. It’s not that I believe no one should ever have children simply because my child was taken from me. Grieving parents are not monsters. We experience anger and jealousy because we are in excruciating pain. It is agony and it is all-consuming. I want so badly to have with my son what those parents with living children have. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life. Sometimes that desire/need to be raising him is so intense I get physically sick to my stomach. It’s not like wanting the most amazing new tech gadget on the market or the fanciest car. Having and raising children is one of the most primitive, basic human desires.
Your emotions are not a personal attack on anyone. They are a normal manifestation of grief and trauma. They are the result of an enormous amount of confusion… a never-ending barrage of “why” and “what if” questions that haunt us daily. Loss parents, please hear me when I tell you it’s okay to have these feelings. You are hurting and heartbroken. There is not a single person on this earth who hasn’t experienced anger, jealousy, bitterness, and resentment at some point. None of us is perfect so don’t judge yourself for being human. The measure of a person is not based on what someone feels, especially following a senseless tragedy. It is based on your actions. Having negative emotions doesn’t give us a free pass to wreak havoc on other people’s lives but no loss parents I’ve met are doing that. Please don’t be ashamed of your emotions and don’t suppress them. Doing so can lead to more serious mental health issues like chronic depression and anxiety disorders. The goal is learning how to express these emotions in a healthy way and developing coping skills. Developing positive coping skills doesn’t happen overnight so don’t beat yourself up if it’s taking months or even years. There are also times when grief rears up and overwhelms even our strongest coping skills. In those moments be gentle on yourself, hold on tight and wait for the storm to pass.
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Amy Peterson lives in central Minnesota with her wonderful husband, Brad. Their beloved son, Elijah David, was stillborn at 22 weeks on June 22, 2016. They currently share their home with Brad’s service dog, Empire, another sweet dog named Baylee and a spunky cat named Peanut. In her free time she enjoys writing, reading, music, photography, being out in nature, cooking, and spending time with family and friends.
Amy is finding purpose in working for the pregnancy loss community through volunteering and charity work. This journey has led her to meet some of the most compassionate and amazing people. She is passionate about giving a voice to the issues surrounding miscarriage, stillbirth, and neonatal death. Her biggest focus now is to honor the life and memory of her son.
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