Bitterness; it’s a very unpleasant feeling that I’ve come to know pretty well over these last couple of months. I hate that I have. I hate this feeling. It’s pretty damn shitty to say the least. I’ve never been one to envy what someone else had that I didn’t, after all, their life, their story, their struggle, is infinitely different from mine. Even if I knew nothing about theirs, I know enough to know that no one makes it through this life without losing something. Anything. So feeling envious or bitter or any of the above is just not something I’ve ever really been drawn to. Until now. Until someone gets to keep their child when I didn’t. Especially a little boy. And especially when they already have more than one child at home already. I know life isn’t fair, and the universe doesn’t owe me anything. But I’m quite certain that I’ve never done anything horrendous enough to warrant losing my child.
If anyone is wondering why I’m feeling such a gutting sense of bitterness and jealousy right now, my coworker/friend just welcomed his fourth child into the world last night, and yep you guessed it, a little boy. Now let me stop to clarify that I am so incredibly happy for him and the safe arrival of his new son, but damn it if I’m not jealous beyond belief. There’s no way to put into words how much I want that. And not that I want that because I’ve never experienced it, but because I have. I want that back. I want to know what it’s like to never have lost it. And not that I ever want anyone to lose their child, because God forbid anyone else have to feel what constantly nags at my very soul, but how unfair it is for someone to get to keep their 4th child, when I didn’t get to keep my first. My one. I wasn’t asking for a house full of little ones. I don’t want a minivan full of car seats. I just want my one. My Kamren. I don’t think I was asking for too much. In fact, I know I wasn’t.
And this is just the first birth of my many coworkers who are currently expecting, most of them with their third or fourth child. Most of them with little boys. It’s more than a slap in the face, although again, I am in fact happy for them. They’re all really good people, and they all celebrated the birth of my boy with me. And came to pay their respects for his death. So how could I not be happy for them? I guess to put it simply, it feels like God is just laughing at me. The same God I’ve spent my entire life believing in, fearing, worshiping. Yep, HIM. As you’ve probably concluded, my relationship with him is going through it right now, but it is enduring. I suppose that’s the most important part. Endurance. Endurance for this life in general. Maintaining my faith in both Him, and the universe. And hopefully finding the strength to make something out of this life. This new, unfair, unwanted life. I mean, as much as I’d like to give it back to wherever the hell it came from, I can’t. And it is mine. So maintain, endure, & survive is what I’ll do. It’s all I have.