And lots of it.
I’m finally angry at what has happened. I have no idea how to deal with this anger, I don’t know if it’s an appropriate emotion but I am so damn angry at the world it’s unbelievable.
I’m angry with the hospital for messing up on so so many occasions.
I’m finally steaming mad at the midwife who came round to perform a healprick test on day 4, who never apologised just gave us the head tit treatment (head to one side, how are you? When she finally realised her mistake)
I’m mad at the photos we finally received this week, that were taken far too long after Harry’s birth so he is not how I remember him at all. I’m so angry that I’m embarrassed to show anyone these photos.
I’m so angry that we need to complain about the hospital, because just writing down what happened made me shake, sob, and relive some of the worst moments of my life.
I’m angry at people’s insensitive questions, inappropriate text messages, or for regarding us as gossip.
I’m so cross at having to smile at people and for having to understand what a difficult position they are in, how it’s so hard for them to know what to say or how to act. How about they consider for one second how damn hard it is for us?
I’m mad that we have had no formal support or contact from any of the bereavement team at the hospital, I don’t know how to deal with this overwhelming rollercoster of emotions.
I’m so angry that what should have been such a special happy time in our lives has turned into the worse nightmare that doesn’t even feel like it is happening to us. I’m angry that I’m in denial of what has happened.
I’m angry that I feel like this.