I’m angry I should have two children but only have one (much loved and special one) in my arms.
This is because my first baby died.
How do you deal with this knowing you should have all your children here when everyone in your life wants you to be grateful now?

Hi Jh, for me, it’s been giving myself time, and permission to be angry at the injustice of it all. My son is about to turn 7. We all miss his big sister a lot. You’re entitled to be angry. I really like something I read recently in Dr. Becky Kennedy’s parenting book, Good Inside. She writes that two things can be true at once. In this case she’s talking about how a misbehaving kid can be super frustrating but also good inside…but I think this applies to so many things: you can deliriously happy that you have a living child and overwhelmingly angry that your first died; you can love a friend to bits, and think they can be a total jerk sometimes…the list goes on. All this to say, I hear you, I see you. You can be a good parent to your living child and love them more than anything, and furious at the world that you can’t experience that with their dead sibling. You’re still a good person inside. Peace to you Jh.

Thank you for thoughtfully answering my question AB.
I like that you don’t see things like anger and gratitude as an either/or.
It’s the unfairness that gets me angry. I’m glad I could share and thanks for responding. The anger hits hard sometimes and I don’t know what to do with it but I guess we just feel it.

Being able to share is I think what makes this community so special. On anger and grief, I love the words to my favorite song, in French, about grief (the song is Évidemment, or of course, by Michel Berger) and the translated words are: “There’s like a bitter taste in us, like a taste of dust in everything, and the anger that follow us everywhere. There is a silence that says so much, more than we’d care to admit, and all these questions that just make no sense. Of course, of course, we still dance to the songs we loved, but not like we used to. Of course, of course, we still laugh at silly things, like children do, but not like we used to. And these battles we don’t give a damn about, they’re exhausting, disgusting. What’s the point of running around like that? We keep this wound in us, like a splash of mud, that changes nothing, and everything. Of course, of course…but not like we used to.” I like that it validates that duality and just live with the anger when it comes.