I just received a phone call from Vanderbilt’s pediatric billing office. They wanted to know if we would be adding Jedidiah to our insurance. I had to say, “Jedidiah died later that same day.” She was so shocked and apologetic. It is their policy to wait until they verify a child is added to the insurance before billing in order to avoid problems for the family with all the insurance red tape, rejections, etc. It is a good policy. But…
I want to throw something. I am not mad at her. I have wanted to throw things many times in the past five and a half weeks. Anger at a specific person has never been the reason. Anger in general is not really the reason either, although I feel angry sometimes. The reason is release. There is no full release of the emotions I feel. There is no safe place to release all that I feel. I don’t truly know what I feel; if I begin to release it, there is no telling what the room would end up looking like. I know that many others have been able to get through the loss of a child with much more grace and calm than I, but I don’t feel graceful or calm. I have a peace from God that Jedidiah’s life was planned from beginning to end and that I was honored to carry and birth him, but I did not carry or birth him with grace or calm, nor am I grieving him with grace or calm. I feel like I am about to explode.
We are Jedidiah. 
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