Who knew that there are so many reasons to be angry after a miscarriage? I am a mental health care professional so I am well acquainted with the stages of grief. I was not shocked by my shock. I expected and allowed my sadness. What I was not prepared for, however, was the depth and breadth of my anger. I am ANGRY. I am angry with any pregnant woman who has the audacity to be within a 30 foot radius of me. I am angry with the well-intentioned monsters who tell me that "It was not meant to be." I am angry with the randomness of the world that pulled the losing lottery ticket for me and my baby. I am angry with my body for betraying me, for being so indifferent to my desire for this child. I am angry with my husband for not having to suffer the physical consequences of this loss. I am angry at the physical pain I still feel (albeit less and less) from the D&C that was performed two days ago and took my baby from me forever. I am angry with the medications I have to take to mitigate the pain but that make me sleepy, confused, and nauseous. I am angry with the relentless press of time that carries me further and further away from the memory of what it was like to be happy and pregnant. I am angry that time passes so slowly and that I have to wait MONTHS before my husband and I can again cast our lot in this game of chance. I am angry that I was so naive as to assume that I was invulnerable to this heartbreak. Miscarriages happen to other people - good people, healthy people, yes, but other people.

There it is. I am most angry because I now know, beyond all doubt, that I am subject to the random twisting and turning of human life just like everyone else. I have no magical force field that protects me from tragedy, although my relative lack of it thus far in life has lulled me into a very false sense of security. As powerfully as I long for a child, I now know more intimately the risk involved in loving so deeply and completely. I am not angry, I am afraid.