I seriously don’t get it! Why does it have to take so freaking long to get the report back!? Why do they put parents through this!? It has been ten weeks. Ten long weeks. I called the Medical Examiner today and they still don’t have the autopsy (I hate that word) report. Plus, they don’t know when they will get it. And, to add insult to injury, we have to write a letter requesting the report! Why wasn’t this mentioned to us ten weeks ago!? Who wants to write that letter? “Dear Police Department, please let me know how my daughter died. My husband and I have been torturing ourselves for the past ten weeks wondering how she could of died.” Yeah, that’s going to be a fun letter to write.
I am not as angry today. I started this post yesterday, but wasn’t able to finish. I still think it is ridiculous that we have to wait 10 (plus) weeks. I do understand that when it comes to the death of a child the police and medical professionals want to be thorough. However, it is torture to the parents who just want to know what happened to their baby.
Lately, I have been reading a number of blogs of mothers who have lost children. There are two types. The first is the mother (I say mother because I haven’t found or read any written by fathers) expresses her peace that she finds with God. The second is anger – anger at everything. I relate to the second. Note – I do realize Phoenix is in Heaven and doesn’t have to deal with the crap of this world, but that doesn’t make me any less angry. My default seems to be anger. I was angry when she was diagnosed with Apert, and had to have all the surgeries and difficulties. I am angry that she is gone. I don’t understand it, and I won’t pretend to understand it. It just sucks. It is indescribable the emptiness that I feel. I have two children, but one isn’t here. I feel torn. I want to be with both, but I can’t. I feel guilty for feelings that I can’t bring myself to type. Yesterday, I was out to eat with my mom and saw a group of children. Before Phoenix died I was always nervous when I saw groups of children, mainly because I didn’t want them staring at her and saying mean things. This time I felt a relief that she didn’t have to endure that anymore. Then I felt this overwhelming sadness – I had to get out of the restaurant as fast as I could before I had a complete meltdown.
It is getting close to the time to feed Little Brother. It is also close to the time that Phoenix would eat lunch. I can’t help but think, I am supposed to be feeding two kids – not one.