A Mother's Grief is a Lonely Place

On this night 18 years ago, we put our baby girl down to sleep, safe, warm and loved.  She never woke up.
I struggle with the anniversary every year, some years more than others and this is one of the worst for some reason.  I know I'm hormonal and that doesn't help.  The people in my life are kind and sympathetic, but sometimes I feel like they think I should be "over it" by now or something, it's been such a long time.  Some, especially those who have babies in their lives don't even want to think about it, and I don't blame them.  God, who would?
Not even Phill can feel what I'm feeling or understand it.  He probably has his own pain, of course he does.  But I carried her, I felt her grow inside me and I gave birth to her and breastfed her and worried about her and...


Well since I wrote the above, I had a long phone chat with my big sister who was emotional because she'd forgotten the anniversary and also our great nephew's 2nd birthday tomorrow (which is day that is listed as Sarah's day of death).  My sister is caring for her partner who has cancer, we had a bit of a blub together and then just gossiped and laughed and talked and it was good for us both. 

I was told recently that Sarah doesn't want me to be sad anymore.  She is apparently happy where she is and hates to see me cry.  I get that, but I can't help it.  I miss her and I want her here with us.  That is never going to change.  I actually think that it's harder now because I don't think about her death and dwell on it every day like I did in the early days.  So when I am kind of forced to relive it all it's just so horrible and shocking and I remember all the feelings and see it all again.
I just miss her.