I'm so sorry, Orange. Losing a child is the worst thing. There's no "at least..." to make it make sense, it breaks the natural order. It would probably be strange if you didn't feel anxiety after such a massive loss. I haven't walked in your shoes, but within my family and my husband's family, about seven people have had the experience of having children die, all at different ages and in different circumstances. I don't think this caused my anxiety, but certainly I've never felt that certainty others I know seem to have that my children are "safe" from potential harm. I always found the most horrifying thing about it as an outsider was the fact young children and babies don't seem to be spoken about again when they've died, as other children are. Although my grandmother was very open about her little boy who died in a way that really broke the mould for the time, and I really admire her for the courage it must have taken. If you want to talk about your boy, I'd love to hear your story, but equally, I'm happy to just talk about the snowdrops.
I haven't walked in your shoes and couldn't imagine your pain, I don't think anyone who hasn't lived with the reality of it can, but I think different types of grief reaction probably drive a lot of these experiences for many people. In therapy, I learned really that my anxiety stemmed from quite a profound grief for my father.. he had a very complex traumatic background, suffering severe sexual and physical abuse in his home and when he had his own family he vowed he wouldn't revisit the past... and to an extent, he didn't... he didn't beat us or abuse us sexually.. and we were incredibly close when I was a young child.. but over time, he became very severely alcoholic, ending up in long-term psychiatric care as well, and there was a pattern of quite severe emotional abuse/mind games, and a cruelty in him when he drank which I suppose matched the cruelty he experienced himself. We have very minimal contact now, and when I do see him, he's such a different and unrecognisable person from the father I remember in early childhood that it's like that man is dead and gone. It's a strange thing to explain, as it seems so much less understandable than direct loss to many people, and to an extent, the grief I feel about it is less for him, or for me, than that people can suffer this way and lose their way in life: grief for the human condition. It's just so far from what he would have wanted for himself, and I felt it very keenly when I had my first child, I really had deep compassion for all those hopes and dreams he had, and sadness that he couldn't have known where life would take him when he was a young idealistic father, going to break away from his sad past. Life can be very sad, and very scary. It's hardly surprising the human mind has the potential to make us suffer when we know the potential for hurt and harm that comes with being alive.