Life goes on... and on

Now I am sick. I have been caring for sick children for the past few days and now I am sick myself! I think that, if I was not so upset, I might not have gotten so sick... The truth it that I have been very upset. We mothers mourn, don't we? Sometimes I think that it is all we can do. It is our lot in life. I have been trying to keep in contact with God and have been thinking a lot about a good many things. The last few days have been terrible; "bad days", I would call them. Last night I thought about the fact that my child died. It seems like it happened to another woman and another child; I felt so distanced and removed from it all. It still seems impossible, sometimes, that I had a child that died. So many people have babies and they don't die. It sometimes just seems impossible that it should have happened to me. Then I had a dream that I was holding her body- as I had after she died- and she was coming to life. When she was very sick and everyone said that there was no hope, I saw her- little by little- coming to life. It was like that. I was holding her. We were in a tomb like Jesus must have been. She was beautiful and plump- like she was in real life and her little face was so sweet. I could feel her in my arms- she was warm and soft and it felt so right and so good to hold her. She was coming to life. She was becoming animated. I woke from this dream feeling confused. I remembered how I held her after she was dead and didn't want to let her go. It was really the first time that I could hold her since she was born and she was dead. I remember thinking that it was all I had left with her. When it was time to hand her over to the undertaker I didn't want to; I wanted her back. I started to fall over from the pain I felt in handing her over. It was more painful than a thousand labors. I know he put her in a black bag and onto the back seat where she was alone. I hate living when I have to remember these things. I hate living when I have dreams that she is alive. It is a sin to hate life; to curse the gift that God gave me. But it seems like a curse in and of itself to be alive at times. I am not sure about God, anymore, though. I don't know what to think. So much- too much is going on. My baby died, I can't have another and now my daughter's biological father wants to take her away from me. Will I lose all my children? Will I lose everything I love? Will there be nothing more to hope for- to hang on to but these awful memories? I have been praying for months. God hasn't heard or doesn't care. If there is really a God, He must hate me. Or maybe He loves me so much to allow for this sort of suffering so that when I die I can get to Him quicker... We aren't promised earthly happiness but does this mean that we are meant to be miserable? There are plenty of people who aren't miserable on earth and some of them will probably end up in heaven. I am supposed to be His daughter and He is supposed to be my Father but it seems like He has forgotten me. Sometimes it seems like to is just too much to live with the memories I have. Sometimes it hurts to live with the blame and I can't stop blaming myself. I feel alone as a person and as a Catholic. Is this what Jesus meant for us? I feel forsaken like He did as He was dying on the cross. Will there be an end to my mourning? Will things ever get better? I miss my baby. I want to hold her so badly. I want to tell her how much I love her and how profoundly her existence and death has changed everything. I want to be her mother like I never could be. I want her back. See? This is the gift that keeps giving; it never goes away. It is always there. Today I am praying for those who feel abandoned. I hope that we all come to feel the warmth of God's love and a renewal of faith despite whatever crisis we are dealing with.