Wire wrapped ring

Lest my last post was too heavy, here's one that is easier to swallow. Or actually, please don't swallow this because it's a huge ring I made today while simultaneously playing UNO with Z and supervising Mimi's beading project.
The glass bead is one my pal Amy gave me a few years ago. I've been trying to figure out what to do with it... Now I can enjoy it.
Now what to do with the other 6 identical beads?

Re•building joy - march 8

Some weeks are easier than others. This week: not so easy.
Tonight involved returning to art class where a bunch of people gathered to share about Franklyn. I'm glad I went, though, a number of times during the day I wondered if I had the emotional strength to face more grief head-on right now. About an hour before I left for class, my phone began to ring. The caller ID told me it was DCFS. My heart froze and I decided to ignore the call. I used to drop everything for their calls, but now I'm not a foster parent... I let it ring. Then my landline began ringing. (almost no one has that number). It was DCFS. I picked up.
The voice at the other end said they were reviewing our entire case and that our adoption attempts were being closed, home study being finished now that we don't have Baby. The lady was kinder than I expected. She actually said how so so sorry she was at what we had been through. She knew all the details, had them there in front of her and felt horrible for our experience. I don't think I ever expected a "sorry" call from DCFS. I told her "we adored him every minute we had him and we miss him so much." The call shook me.

I also saw a grown woman being a bully this week and I got so angry that I couldn't calm down for hours.
I'm learning that anger is a part of grief. These days I feel angry when I see someone manipulating or bullying someone else. I can relate to being bullied by words and fear and it makes me furious. I'm not near as angry for my own self as I was before, but I find that injustice, unfairness or lack of control gets me really agitated. Sadly, I have an almost 6 year old who also feels deeply and is not unlike Momma in his grieving and anger. Here is someone who is no longer a big brother and has no way to express how angry that makes him feel except to lash out in aggression whenever he is with me.

I'm exhausted.
I've got three (really, three!) quilts in the upcoming Glendale Quilt Show. All of which are intensely related to this journey of mine. They are heavy emotionally when I look at them. I even forgot to bring my finished Timeline quilt to the Los Angeles Modern Quilt guild meeting on Monday. I couldn't believe I forgot. My friend whispered, "maybe you sub-consciously just want to be done with it and you don't want to talk about it" - that could be true.
In the past, my artwork has always been intense, but far more harmonious than heavy. This stuff lately, both in my collage class and my quilts is so angry. When no one is around, my car hears me shout and throw my own tantrums.
I'm trying to get it all out, but not sure how to direct it. Then I have a 6yo version of my grief telling me he wants a new mommy because I said he had to wear shoes... (or any number of factors)
Some weeks are easier than others. Some just have to be survived.
Re•building joy doesn't feel like where I am at right now. But I get that if I'm strong enough to look around with my eyes open, then I am stronger than I was 4 months ago. Back then, I had lots more balls in the air - I even think i felt like a better mom than I do now, but on the inside I was crumbling. I know more now. I'm still shaken. I still want my baby. I'm still afraid I will never be the same. I still look over my shoulder and am hyper vigilant around my kids. But I also know I'm not hiding anything, there's no stuffing it down. And as each tablespoon of yuck surfaces to the top, I skim it, examine it and try to get it out to make room for more joy.
There may be a few more angry quilts in me before this is done. Bear with me... Its a long journey. But we will make it out... I'm sure.