Let me know the struggle ends

How good is God?
How much does He really care about us?
Should I think that since I'm a Christian and believe in Him that I'm exempt from the harshness and cruelty of this world we live in?

I know God is good and I know that He really does care about us, but there are times now when I get so mad at Him and the thought that He's forgotten about me comes to mind, and I find myself having to force those thoughts away.  I try really hard to remember that there are reasons my baby died.

Anger.  People who ask me how I'm doing really don't want to know the answer to that question.  They have no clue that asking that question could bring out something they were not expecting.  "How are you doing today?", " I'm doing OK considering my baby died five weeks ago.  She was perfectly healthy, but ended up having the cord wrapped around her neck multiple times.  So here I am with a new scar and no baby to show for it.  I'm having to figure out how to go on from day to day and deal with family and friends and being around people.  All the while I'm wanting to scream and cry out "Why God, why me?!"  But I'm doing fine, thanks for asking."
The answer to the simple question "How are you doing today?" is not so simple.  That's why it's really never a good idea to ask that question because you never know what answer you'll get.

I'm having a hard time doing things now.  Going to church is hard for me.  I'm not losing my faith or trust in God, I actually feel closer to Him now then I did before.  I'm leaning on Him all the time and He's carrying me all the time.  I'm doing devotions now and reading the Bible again.  The hard part for me about going to church now is that I see Chatelle's funeral.  I see how things where set up and where the flowers and her pictures were.  I remember my Aunt Kim speaking and my sister Jessica singing, and the song that Ben picked out to play.  I remember the emptiness inside me and the rude awakening that what happened was real and not a horrible dream.
I'm also having a hard time dealing with every day life.  I feel like a robot on auto run.  I have no emotion (other than anger), I do very little around the house, I haven't cooked in so long and I have no desire to cook.  Those who know me know that I love to cook now compared to when I was younger (I'm almost 29 so younger to me was around 22 years old).
My poor husband and son have no clue what kind of mood I'll be in from minute to minute.  I have no need or want for any kind of closeness unless I'm crying or really need a hug or something.  I don't want to be touched.  I don't want, or maybe it's a I don't know how to, have any happiness now.  There is a huge hole in my heart and I don't know how to let it heal.

What is normalcy?  I lived from day to day with a life that I thought was normal.  I have a husband, a son, family and friends that love me.  That's all normal.  Losing a child is not normal.  I woke up that day and little did I know that my life would no longer be under the category of normalcy.  I just got off the phone a minute ago and one of the last things that was said was "I've missed talking to you".  That small, innocent, honest line made me start thinking about all the things I miss about my old life.  I say old because I don't feel like the woman I used to be before all this.  I miss being able to smile without feeling guilty, as if being happy means that I forget about Chatelle.  I miss the closeness that me and my husband used to have, the wanting to be held.  I miss the innocence that I used to have, thinking that nothing like this could or would ever happen to my family.  I even miss the bad days that I had, the arguments that Ben and I have had.  Even though they were bad days or arguments, they were still normal every day issues.  Now when I think about something there's a line that splits down the middle.  The "before" and the "after" line.  Before Chatelle died and after Chatelle died.   That line will always be there.