Anger

It's another stage in the grieving process. And I'm angry. I've been easily agitated lately, and I've been taking it out on my husband. He's done nothing. It's just that he's the one around me the most, so he ends up getting the worst of things sometimes. But in general, it doesn't take much to tick me off these days. It's like I'm looking for a fight.

But I think that I'm just angry as a part of my grieving.

So I'm going to vent here for a while. That's what this is for, right?

I'm angry at my situation.
I'm angry at my doctor for not wanting to perform any further tests.
I'm angry at my doctor for seemingly not being concerned about my emotional state. Even as I sat there, crying throughout my follow-up appointment, she didn't even acknowledge my tears.
I'm angry at women who can get pregnant and stay pregnant.
I'm angry at unfit mothers.
I'm angry at women who are irresponsible and end up with unwanted pregnancies.
I'm angry at abusive mothers.
I'm angry at women who abandon their children.
I'm angry God for letting these things happen.
I'm angry at people who say inappropriate things to me about my miscarriages.
I'm angry at my body for being unable to carry a healthy pregnancy.
And I'm angry at myself for feeling angry.

I feel like I'm in a very guarded, self-protective mode right now. I'll defend myself if I feel attacked in anyway. It's more empowering than just being sad, but it's frightening, too. I don't want to push someone away because of my anger. I don't want to displace my anger on my husband or other people that I love when he or they certainly don't deserve it.

I don't know what to do with this, though. I mean, it's ok to feel angry, but it's often acted upon inappropriately, inadvertently displaced.

So I suppose that all I can do is try to stay in control. I will talk to my husband about it this time. I have to stay in control of my actions--where I place my anger. I don't want to alienate anyone. I want to be open and truthful about my emotions without overreacting.

It's still so early in the day, but this realization and the intensity of these emotions have exhausted me. Grieving is work.