Four months tomorrow

It is so unreal to me that tomorrow will be four months since my precious girl lived. I wish I could stay in those two hours forever. I remember holding Sydney and watching the clock, wishing time would stop and let me keep her alive. As time passes, I feel that much more distance between us, as if she stayed on February 10, 2009, and I have skipped ahead. Of course, using that analogy, I'm in June 2009 and everybody around me has moved on to 2012. I feel like I've been left behind to deal with my grief alone while everybody else has moved on.

Yesterday, we received a wonderful gift. The mamas on one of my message boards got together and had a star named after Sydney through the International Star Registry. It touched me so deeply that they would do that for us. I want to figure out how to find her star, so hopefully I can figure out what the coordinates mean and how to find them.

The resounding theme of this past month has been anger. I am so angry with almost everybody in my life for one reason or another. I am angry that people can't deal with my grief and make me feel like I am wrong for it. I am angry that they treat me like a child having a tantrum instead of treating me like a mother who has lost her child. I am angry that it seems like I am the only person in the world who really feels the depth of this loss. I am angry that I have lost my beautiful baby while so many others can have healthy babies despite mistreating their bodies throughout pregnancy or that they have precious babies just to abuse them. It is so incredibly unfair and I can't begin to understand it. I am so incredibly angry that my daughter is gone. I'm angry that I am supposed to be preparing for our new arrival this month, buying diapers and clothes and all things baby, but instead I buy things to put on her grave. I am angry that I feel forgotten, that virtually all of my (non-Internet) friends have not even acknowledged Sydney's birth or death, that 95% of the people in my life act like she never existed. I'm angry with my husband for spending the last four months putting on a facade of normality, which has only managed to make me feel even worse about being so broken by this. I am angry because other people get angry because I am angry with them.

I want to scream, I want to break things, I want some outlet for these feelings. Right now, though, I am so depressed that I just don't feel like fighting anymore. People can think what they want about me. I'm tired of doing things just to make other people happy. I've had it with being coerced into doing things I really don't want to do or being around people who just...suck. Why should I consider the feelings of people who crap on my feelings every chance they get? Why should I care if it is your birthday, graduation, wedding, party, celebration, etc., when you can't even pick up the phone and ask how I am doing or send a card or acknowledge that Sydney existed and that I am hurting in some tiny way? Why should I waste my limited time off work or spend money to come visit you or even pretend I give a crap about you when you don't seem to give a crap about me? I'm not doing it anymore. And if you're reading this and wonder if I'm talking to you, I most likely am. I'm tired of playing nice. I'm tired of everybody waiting for me to snap out of it or get over it. You can either accept my new reality or you can get lost.