The So-Called Anger of a Mother

I was recently asked if I ever get angry. I didn’t have a clear cut answer for the person asking the question. I try my best not to let my anger take over because I don’t want that to define my life the way it is right now. When I lost my son, Cylas, all I felt was hurt and shock. The days following his death were played as if I was in a haze. I mean I know that I went through all the emotions of each day but it was like I was watching myself on TV and not really there. I don’t know if that makes any sense at all, but it was almost as if I was being controlled by a puppeteer and it felt like I didn’t have any control what so ever.

Cylas came into this world on Christmas Eve 2007. His arrival was very hectic and scary. I didn’t know if I was going to make it or even if my precious little boy was going to survive. Both of our circumstances were very dim. I had a placental abruption and almost bled to death. I wasn’t able to see him until Wednesday and I couldn’t believe how handsome he was. He had a head full of hair, dark brown, those chubby checks, and he had deep dark eyes. He was my Indian baby, he had dark skin and he looked just like his “dad”. The reason why I say he was my Indian baby was because his sister was light skinned compared to him. Cylas’ delivery was nothing compared to what I had gone through before his arrival.

My husband and I separated when I was three months pregnant. He moved into another woman’s home about two weeks later. We fought over everything. I was mad because that new woman in his life was all of a sudden first in his life. I didn’t care if he paid attention to me, but it was not fair to our daughter. Not one time did he ever ask me how the pregnancy was going after he left us. Then one day he told me that he wanted a DNA test done as soon as the baby was born. I couldn’t believe that he was denying our child. He had the nerve to tell everyone that he wasn’t the father and made it sound like I was the one cheating on him. Every time I thought about those words coming out of his mouth, I would get mad all over again. His new woman even had the nerve to tell everyone that my baby didn’t belong to him. What was going on between me and him was none of her business. I told him that she needed to back off and shut her mouth. I don’t like his new woman and I don’t think I ever will. I didn’t appreciate the things that she said and I think the most hurtful thing of all was when she told my EX that if the baby was boy she didn’t want me to have him because she was worried that he would come back to me. That one little thought makes me so mad. Even today, I still get angry and upset because she said such a thing. It wasn’t her baby to wish away, it was mine. I know that I might be taking her words the wrong way in some people’s eyes, but it wasn’t her place. Just because she doesn’t take care of her kids doesn’t mean that I didn’t want mine. I want to blame her for Cylas’ death. I want to look her in the face and tell her that I hope she’s happy! I hope that she’s very proud of herself because now he’s not here to ruin her wonderful relationship with his father. I want her know that I believe with all my heart she wished death upon my child. All I can think about is what Cylas must have thought. He must have been thinking: doesn’t anyone want me? My dad has denied me, and his new girlfriend doesn’t want me around. So why should I stay? Why should I stay, I am not wanted. I know that must have been going through his mind. During his viewing and the funeral service I kept thinking that she better not show up here. I already had a scene played out in my mind. I would ask her to leave and tell her that she was not welcomed. I was prepared for a fall out with my EX because of that and I was ready to tell him that he could leave too, since he wasn’t the father. I’ve never been hurt so bad. I never thought that our relationship could become so complicated. I always thought I would spend the rest of my life with this man. Our divorce was finalized on December 13, 2007, 11 days before Cylas was born. As of today, I don’t have anything to do with him. We have a daughter and if we talk it’s about her and her only. He stresses me out!!

Before I had Praire and Cylas I suffered a miscarriage in January 2003. I was 7 weeks when it happened and I was devastated. During that time I blamed God. I blamed God for taking that child away from me. Have I blamed God this time? Not really. Actually I’m afraid to lash out at God. I’m afraid because I think I might lose someone else if I do. With all my heart I know that Cylas is safe and that he’s in the best of care. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t wish for one more day with him. I wish Cylas would come back every day. I would do anything if I could hold him in my arms one more time. If I had one more chance to look into his eyes, I would make sure that he knew I loved him. I would make sure that he knew he was wanted by me and his sister. He was definitely wanted and that’s no joke. Sometimes I do find myself questioning God’s intentions. I know that you can’t ask why but it’s something I do on a regular basis. I had a thought one time while I was riding in my van, crying. I wanted to find some peace and I wanted some reassurance that I would be ok. I don’t know if I remember exactly what I wrote on the blog but here goes: I thought that God must have had a plan for me. He must have had a reason for letting me have my daughter first as well as blessing me with Cylas. I thought that God sent my daughter to me to help me through my grief and pain. If I didn’t have my daughter I probably would still be under that rock, no one would probably ever see me again. But she’s the reason I keep going. She’s the light at the end of the tunnel. While I’m trying to put my life back together she’s the glue that’s making it possible. We are both going this great loss, but each of us handle it differently. Then another thought came to me, what if God had a reason for blessing my life with Cylas. What if God knew my marriage of 4 years would be ending, and he knew that if I was pregnant I wouldn’t totally shut down and quit functioning. He knew that I would make sure I took care of myself and that I would do everything in my power to make sure this baby was safe. He knew that I would have enough love left to make it through. He knew that if I had Cylas then I had something to look forward too other than my loneliness. So here’s what these thoughts break down to I have my daughter to help keep me going since I lost Cylas and I had Cylas to help me through the pain of losing a husband. I’m not saying I totally depend on my children, but I know that I’ve been blessed. Now, I am waiting for something else to happen. I mean, God must have another plan for me. He let me have Cylas for 3 wonderful weeks. He let me feel him in my arms and he let me see those beautiful eyes. I don’t know what my future may hold. Will I have another child? Don’t know. Will I find someone else to share my life with? Who knows? I don’t. I mean if I really had to lash out at God all I could scream is WHY!!!, over and over again.

I talk about Cylas all the time. I remember all the small stuff. I remember being up with him until 2:00 in the morning. I remember his temper, just like his sister’s. I remember that dimple on his chin and trying to figure out where in the world it came from, still never figured it out. I remember running my fingers through his hair and making it stick up, I always said he looked like a mad duck after I did that. I remember how fast he caught onto that trick we call a paci. I remember counting his fingers and his toes. I remember watching him as he followed his sister around with his eyes, he was amazed at her. I remember getting peed on during his diaper changes, it happened three times. I remember how he loved taking a bath, until it was time to wash his hair. I remember how he looked just like his “dad”, and I know that I marked him. I remember how he would stare at whoever was holding him, I think he was trying to figure them out, he did that to me, and I think he wanted to know everyone because he knew that he wouldn’t be here much longer. I remember watching him sleep. I remember listening for him to breath, I did that long after he was already gone. And even though it hurts like hell I remember what he had to go through before he died. He couldn’t be held because he was in so much pain. On the last day he was here, I couldn’t hold him, I was afraid I might hurt him even more, I sat on the bed next to him and held his hand. I let him know that his mommy was there and that I wasn’t going anywhere. I ran my fingers through his hair and I stroked his forehead. It was just me and Cylas, no one else mattered at that time. I prayed to God asking for a miracle. I prayed to God so hard during that time. Cylas was having difficulty breathing by this point and it was very evident that his body and heart were working too hard to keep his little body going. He was moved to the ICU (too late) and they put him to sleep, telling me that it would be easier for him. I never seen him with his eyes open again and I didn’t even get to him goodbye. At seven o’ clock on Tuesday, January 15th we were told that there was nothing more they could do for Cylas and they asked us if we wanted them to take him off life support or let things happen naturally. I wasn’t ready to let go and I opted to keep him on life support for as long as possible. Eventually everything started shutting down and his heart rate kept getting lower and lower. Two hours after my world was shook to the core, Cylas was gone, and my world had totally collapsed around me. He passed away at 9:10pm.

My family & friends have been a great support to me. I don’t know what I would have done without them. They didn’t say any of the usual stuff like oh, it happened for a reason (yeah, his dad didn’t want him), well he’s better off (yes, he is, but I want him here with me), or you can always have another baby (yes, I can, but Cylas will still not be here). I had the task of planning my child’s funeral, something that’s not supposed to happen, but it has. I made the arrangements and didn’t give his so called dad a choice. His casket was hand made, and his clothes were bought by one of my cousins and he had tons of flowers. As sad as I was on the day of his funeral my daughter managed to make me smile. As they placed him in the grave and started shoveling the dirt on to his small casket, his sister watched intently. She watched as they buried her brother, and then she looked up at me and asked me how Cylas was going to get to heaven with all that dirt on him? I smiled, hugged her tightly, and told her that he was already there and she had nothing to worry about. Right now my pain is great, my loss was devastating. I don’t need anyone telling me to get over it. I probably will never get over it and that’s something that they’ll have to deal with. I am never going to forget my angel, Cylas. I wish that I had more pictures of him. I wish that I had more pictures of him with his sister. There are so many wishes and I wants. I want him back, I wish I could hold him one more time, if I had done this or that, he might still be here. The list can go on and on, but they are just words or thoughts, and they will never be fulfilled.

This was supposed to be about anger, but I just can’t seem to let it out. It’s easy to do, but for some reason, right now, it’s so hard. I am angry at my EX. It seems like I stay mad at him. Aside from blaming his new girlfriend I blame him too! By saying that Cylas wasn’t his son, he wished him away too!! I think I will live with that thought in the back of my mind for the rest of my life. My EX could have said or did anything else during that time and it wouldn’t have hurt so bad, but he took it out on an innocent child. A child that is no longer here and I just don’t know how to forgive that. I don’t know how to start saying that it’s ok. I don’t know how to look past those hurtful words. His new girlfriend didn’t want Cylas, he didn’t want Cylas, what if that’s the answer to my question: Why? What if it God took Cylas because his dad didn’t want him? But even if that’s the case, why did he take him from me, I wanted him. I wanted him more that anything. I’ve always dreamed of having a little boy and I couldn’t wait for him to get here. Sometimes it seems like all my why’s lead back to my EX. You know my EX’s life almost fell apart a few months ago, and guess who he wanted by his side: ME! His girlfriend went crazy on him and tried to kill herself. Well it was Cylas’ day, and I had no intention of making my EX a part of my day ever again. He called me and told me that he needed a friend. I said well why did you call me, when Cylas died and I needed some support you wasn’t there for me, in fact he totally turned his back on me. He went running back to her because they were broken up at the time of Cylas’ death. He didn’t want to have anything to do with me. But when something happened to him and he was all alone he thought I would come running! Well I did, he tried to get me to have sex with him and kept telling me that he had been thinking about me for a while. He “faked” an apology about everything that was said or done while I was pregnant. He wanted me to be by his side. Of course I wasn’t there for support because I was trying to convince him to let that crazy woman go and move on with his life. During that time she was placed in psychiatric facility and she broke up with him telling him that she never wanted to see or talk to him again. Then by Friday, all was fine, and they were back together again. I told him off and asked him why he needed me so badly during that time. I asked him why he was willing to put me through all this SHIT again. I told him that I didn’t want anything to do with him. I didn’t want to talk to him and if I did talk it would only be about our daughter. I told him that the next time something happens between them to leave me out of it. I told him to call someone else!! Since then it’s been pretty quite. I pick a fight with him occasionally but I think I do that just to keep him from talking to me.

All my anger seems to be aimed at my EX. Does that seem Fair?