It's been a year since you died and there isn't a single day that goes by where I don't think of you repeatedly. Wondering what you'd be like, who you would look like. I can't talk to anyone because I feel like they will judge me for my inability to let go. Even I feel like my grief has been excessive. I only knew you for a few precious weeks; but I loved you more than I could imagine in that short time. When God took you back, he took a piece out of my heart and I fear that hole will never heal. I'm still trying to forgive Him for that, and I don't think I know how.

Every time I see somebody with a baby I wonder why I don't have mine. Even though I pray every day for a healthy baby nothing happens. I don't understand the logic in allowing teenage girls or abusive parents to have babies and not me. The one thing I am desperate for. I would be a good mom. I often wonder if I am being punished for something. Even if for some reason He deemed it not appropriate for me not to have biological children (which after giving me a microscopic taste of that would be horrifically unfair,) I won't be able to adopt either. I wouldn't be able to afford it, and besides, who would choose us? I live in a trailer park.
I feel like I am constantly waiting for my life to begin. With a child I would have a purpose. As it is, I just live day to day and I don't see the point. I work so I can pay the bills. I pay the bills so I can survive. What is the point?
The light and the end of the tunnel is fading quickly and I am becoming resigned to sitting in the muck, wanting a hand to pull me out but not expecting it.
I'm sorry that I am still so affected by this. I really wish I wasn't.
How can I be a "Woman of Purpose" when I've given up looking for a purpose?