Although I didn't actually go through the stages of grief in any particular order, I definitely experienced anger throughout the process, and even still to this day I can have my moments. The most interesting thing to me about anger was how illogical it could be. I was angry at all of the wrong (and sometimes strange) people. I was angry at anyone who had three or more "healthy" kids. I didn't understand how they managed to make it to three without any problems. Someone who had five or six kids? Well that just seemed cruel. I knew that this was not logical or fair, but I was angry and I needed someone to direct my anger towards.
Other times I found my self being angry at people who complained about small and insignificant troubles, or anyone who complained about their kids being hard to handle, or difficult. I wanted to yell and say, "you should feel lucky to have happy, healthy children".
But the thing that got my blood boiling more than anything, was when I would hear about pregnant women who were not taking care of themselves or their unborn babies. If I would hear a story in the news or through the grapevine about irresponsible women, I would think, "I would have done anything to have a healthy baby". I would have gained 100 pounds if I thought it could have prevented Lily from having CDC. Basically I felt angry at anyone who I didn't think fully appreciated how good they had it.
But probably my lowest point, the thing I feel most ashamed about, is the feeling that I did not deserve to be going through this, and I found myself being angry at other people who I thought did deserve this "trial" more than me. I know, LOW!
And even though at the time I knew all of these feeling were illogical, I couldn't help but feel the way I did, and I realized that I just had to be willing to go with it. To feel it. To submit to the anger.
Most importantly though, I had to make sure to keep my nasty feelings and snarky remarks to myself, so that I wouldn't say anything that I might later regret.