Angry At God

We have all had moments where we are mad at the Man upstairs.  You break down in the middle of nowhere in December, "why is this happening to me?"  You  lose your job, "What did I ever do to You?"  We have all been there, but there is no angrier human than the mom who watches her baby die.  I have done everything right by my kids.  I don't claim to be perfect, I've got regrets like anyone else, but my kids are my world, and I am a good mom.  I baby-proofed til my fingers bled; doorknob covers, drawer stops, outlet plugs, apartments with high windows, guardrails on beds, every thing you can possibly think of to protect kids I did.  My kids are my life, of course I did everything I had to.  The day that I enrolled them at that particular  daycare I had gone to EVERY daycare imaginable, including one on the very outskirts of town, and none of them were good enough for me.  None of them were safe enough, none of them had enough staff.  When I met this provider, there was instant calm.  It was the weirdest thing.  I saw the canal, I saw the fence, I asked my questions about them, I got my answers, we shook hands, signed papers, and then I left.  I put my trust in what I thought was a system...I assumed inspections had been done, inspections had been passed, and everything was in was I supposed to know? My kids have never been in a daycare, they've never been with  anyone that I didn't know and trust personally.  I took a leap of faith.

After I left the hospital the day it happened, I was devastated...and then I was pissed...and then I was devastated...and then I was pissed...and so the cycle continues.  "What did I do to deserve this?"  "Why would You give her to me if you were just going to take her back?"  "Why am I being punished?"  "Why weren't You watching her better?" "How could You allow this to happen?"  "What happened to being all-loving and all-merciful?"  Every.Single.Day.  And I know that it will be a continuous struggle for the rest of my life.  I know that the alternative was her being brain dead, but it shouldn't have happened in the first place!  Isn't He supposed to have the final say in these things?  He could have given her abck to me healthy and happy and had it just be the biggest scariest thing of  my whole life and everything would be fine.  But He didn't.  He took her.  He left me here, and He took her.  I know that  there was a reason, I just wish that God and I could have a face-to-face sit down discussion about the reason behind it.  I am not one of those poeple who accepts that "accidents happen."  I don't accept that "sometimes we aren't  supposed to know the reason."  If I don't know the reason, if I can't have SOMETHING to hold on to out of this, then how am I supposed to go on and  I will never know.  And that, that is simply NOT okay with me.

1 comment:

  1. I don't know you, but I came across this from another post. I don't know if it would be helpful or not, but I have a friend who lost her son to drowning in the summer. She also posts about her feelings and I think you and her could really relate to each other. You seem to describe a lot of what she has described. Not sure it it would help, but if you want to check her out she's made a page called "Living for Garrett"