Losing a child of any age is one of the worst, hardest things for a parent to bear.
Please, share the stories of the children you’ve lost with us. There is strength in numbers.
Throughout the past two years I have often heard, “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.”
Well, I have a bone to pick with God: I am NOT as strong as He thinks I am.
Somehow, I managed to get through my husband’s year long tour in Iraq. I had to. Late in the evening in September 2007, I hugged and kissed my husband, as he rubbed and kissed my h u g e pregnant belly and got on a bus. I didn’t know if I would ever see him again. I can still see his big, goofy grin as he smiled and waved good-bye. I stood there, watched the buses pull out into the darkness and I prayed to God that he would come home safely. I prayed that our son would get to meet his Daddy; the same prayer I prayed every day for the next year. I got into the truck, hugely pregnant, and I lost it.
I cried the whole way home.
27 days later, my son Robert was born.
I’m not so strong.
Now, seven months after Robert’s death from SIDS I can’t seem to “get it together.”
I’m pretty smart. I know that I am grieving. I know that everyone grieves differently. But I’ve had enough. I don’t want the panic attacks that happen for no reason. Panic attacks that I shouldn’t even be getting anymore because I take medication to prevent them.
Tired of being tired because I can’t sleep at night. Every time I close my eyes I see Robert in his crib when I found him, dead from SIDS, or in the hospital on the gurney.
I’m starting to get mad, really mad. Mad at my husband because I had to go through another major event alone. Mad at the Army for not letting Joe be at home for Robert’s birth. I’m mad at God.
This is how my conversations with God have been lately:
Me: “Why did Robert have to die of SIDS?”
God: no response
Me: “Hrmph”
Me: “Guess I should have been more specific when I asked you to bring Joe home safe so Robert could meet him.”
God: no response
Me: “grrrrrr”
Me: “I’m a good Mommy, why do I not to get to have my baby?”
God: no response
Me: sobbing
Me: “I think you and I need a break!”
God: no response
I’m so terribly, deeply sorry for your loss.
This is just one of the many MANY reasons I’m an atheist. A just and merciful God wouldn’t do things like that…take away our sons, daughters, husbands, and wives before they reach old age. It’s this, along with about 1,000 other reasons that I DO NOT believe in God or heaven or hell or the devil or ANY of that. It’s all complete bullshit.
Again, I’m just so sorry. Hugs.
irst, I’m so sorry.
Second, I completely understand. My house burned down when I was 8 months pregnant, two months later my face was paralyzed, and a year later I was diagnosed with Lyme disease. I have often asked “”why me?” When others say I’m strong, I want to tell them that I only see two choices: living or dying. And I don’t think I’m strong because I haven’t killed myself. I’m merely surviving, surviving a life I don’t think is fair, that I have no answers for. The “you don’t get more than you can handle” line is definitely something that I think is Bullshit! Sometimes you do get more than you can handle.
Yes. I agree entirely. And that platitude always seemed to be such a smug way of making whomever was SAYING it feel better. You know? Like, “oh, see? It’s okay, because it’s a PLAN, so I feel better. Why don’t YOU?”
I don’t like that saying, if you can’t tell.
Surviving isn’t living. It’s putting one foot in front of the other.
Love to both of you.
Thank you all! Aunt Becky ~ you put into words EXACTLY how I feel! Thank you for this site & thanks everyone for your support!
The older I get, the more that platitude pisses me the fuck off. Who are YOU to tell me “I can handle it” because it’s in His hands? WHOSE PLANS? You tell me who exactly is responsible for these plans, because I’m damn tired of it.
Oh, and sending you love. Sorry, had to rant there. This is a huge pet peeve of mine.