Some days I really resent it when people have exciting milestones with their kids. I know it's terrible of me, and in no way do I expect people's lives to end or for them to censor what they say around me (or on Facebook for goodness' sake). Of course it's exciting when your kid does something new and cool and I'm totally on board with bragging more about our kids.....it's just that......I don't get to brag about Ariana anymore.
I don't even get to SEE Ariana anymore.
I don't even get to get annoyed with Ariana being needy anymore, much less have her doing something absolutely precociously, preciously darling that I can blab all over Facebook or my blog or my family website or anything like that.
So long story short, I am a terrible person because some days I hate people who have normal happy lives...you know, people who haven't joined the "My Kid Went to Heaven Before Me" club. I always thought life was hard but bearable and that no matter what happened if we worked hard and tried to make informed and responsible decisions, we'd at least break even. Emotionally. Financially.
Boy was I wrong. I knew infant CPR. I knew what to do. I knew to call 911. I did the right things, and I am 99.9999% sure I did them correctly. But it didn't help. So even though I did the right things in the right way, I still have to move on with a life devoid of an Ariana Noelle. In the meantime there are moms putting their infants in microwaves and ovens who sit free on million-dollar bonds waiting for a trial that is years down the road. And probably not being traumatized nearly as much by the so-called "investigations" into their child's death as I was...."prime suspect" my ass.
Piss piss, moan moan.
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