The funeral is over. Other people say they now feel better. They feel peace. They feel relieved.

I feel nothing. Well, that’s a lie. I feel the anger rising. I’m angry at these people who say they feel peace. Because I don’t. This is not peaceful, this is WRONG. My beautiful baby boy should not be in a box in the ground, with flowers thrown on top. He should be in my arms, nursing, growing, cooing, laughing.

This is not better, this is not relief. This is not peace.