I will probably also feel like kicking my AH'S b*tt for not being around and for abandoning us. I think my life will be a rollercoaster ride for years from now but I hope that my son will be my joy in all of that, as you mentioned. I will fight for my son and what is best for him AND to protect him from the very thing I could not protect his dad from - drugs and addiction.
I'm going to tell you a story that, I hope, helps you deal with this.
About 7 years ago, my mentor shared with me that he was an alcoholic. I was blindsided, because he'd been in my life for nearly 16 years at that point. And after me bringing him back here from the West Coast and one more fateful bender, he ended up in a facility that specialized in patients with alcohol dementia. He died about 7 months after this diagnosis. His body finally gave out.
During my initial period of mourning, I was hurt and angry at him...until it occurred to me that it was difficult for me to judge him because he was an old guy dealing with a lot of difficult things, chief amongst them his wife was suffering from cancer. He was, near the end, doing what he felt he needed to do to get through his days. Obviously, he was making a lot of very poor decisions. But then again, I have no idea what my end-of-life decisions are going to be like. So once I casted his loss in those terms, whatever anger I felt towards him dissipated. He didn't do this to me. He did this to himself.
I think it's important to remember that your husband did not intend to abandon you, or your baby. He was doing what all addicts do: indulge their worst impulses by feeding his addiction while ignoring the potential consequences. That's what denial is. He wasn't thinking about dying. He was thinking about getting high, because that's what mattered to him the most at that time.
So, yes, he made a ton of poor decisions, and yes, you are left to deal with the fallout of those decisions. But that's not what he intended to do. He didn't intend to do anything
to you or the baby. What he did, he did to himself, and you and the baby were caught in the blast.
It sucks. It's not fair. He should be here, with you, with his child. But he's not.
When you're ready to, you'll take a step back and you won't personalize this as much. That doesn't mean the anger and the hurt will go away, because it likely never will. But what it does mean is you'll adapt to a life without him. And if there's one thing I've learned about life, grieving, and moving on, it's that we never know what surprises are around the bend. If you read my posts from January 2012 to the past two weeks, you'll appreciate what I mean.
God bless you and your baby.