I just wanna be mad for a while

I've been trying to write this post for about a week. You see, I need quiet and relaxation to be able to write well and there hasn't been too much of that lately. Not that this is a bad thing. I'm really glad to be able to keep busy. But I have had thoughts building inside of me.

In the midst of everything going on, I am not quite sure where God fits in. For the first month after we lost Peter, I could not even acknowledge Him because I was so mad at Him. Not for causing my sickness and our son's death, but for not stopping it. I did not understand why He could work His miracles in such amazing ways and then just leave us without even a small miracle. That whole month was full of darkness and hurt -- sometimes so bad I could hardly breathe.

After about a month of that, I realized that although I wanted answers right now, I will not get them. Through the help of a wonderful priest, I was able to let go of needing to know why this happened the way it did. In the process, I was able to let God into my heart for the first time. He has done some healing and offered us some wonderful graces, but I realized recently that I am still mad at Him. I know He understands.

I am mad that my pregnancy was interrupted and I got cheated out of the 3 months of pregnancy I should have had. 

I am mad that my son had to try to survive outside my womb, where he should have been safe.

I am mad that my son did not survive and we had to bury him. 

I am mad that I have to watch myself and my loved ones in such agony and grief.

I am mad that I am still suffering from the effects of the preeclampsia 2 months later with no end in sight. 

I was doing so well with my fluid loss, and then somehow it is all back on me again. I look like heck, sometimes I feel like heck. It never seems to end. I can't help but wonder if God could have at least given me a break on this after all we've been through. Sometimes I'm scared out of my mind that I will end up back in the hospital on the list for a kidney transplant.

I don't understand His ways. The God I thought I knew was a God of mercies who would never leave His loved ones without help. This seems very unlike Him. Like Job, I cry out from the depths to the God who has afflicted me. All of the saints have been through things like this. The only thing is, I'm no saint. I'm certainly trying to get to Heaven to see my son, but if God is looking for heroic things, I don't measure up at all.

The good thing about having your son as a saint in Heaven is that he will be up there praying for me all the time. And when I can't go straight to God, I can ask Peter to go sit on Jesus' lap and ask Him for a favor. Talk about having a direct line! I love him so much and I know that his prayers are the only thing holding me together right now.

I still love God and trust Him, but like the Terri Clark song says, "I just wanna be mad for a while".