Tiny Funerals and Beautiful Friends

Saturday evening after dinner, everybody went in the backyard, said a few words, and since we didn't have a body to bury, we put a few mementos in a container and buried it. Emma had colored several pictures for the baby, Chocolate Chip wrote a letter, Mark put in his class ring, and I tried my best not to cry. Even my mom came out, and we set up a chair for her by the hole. It really was a beautiful little ceremony. I took some pictures to remember it by. I'd like to share them here. I've already shared them on Facebook, but some of them were so beautiful, they deserve to be shared as much as possible.

This is one of the drawings that Emma did for the baby.

It's a picture of her and the baby inside a heart (heart is upside-down), with green grass, and a blue sky.

This is Emma giving "her baby" (the closest thing we had to it, anyway) one last hug.

 

Chocolate Chip and Emma burying the container. We all took turns putting some dirt on it.

 

I think it did help some, having some way to say goodbye to our tiny baby. I just wish the baby had been old enough to have a face, and for us to be able to have had something to hold, even for the briefest moment. It would also have been nice to be able to be certain of the baby's gender. I'd hate to get to Heaven one day (God willing), and find out my Charlotte Marie was actually a boy. I guess we'll just call it Charlie. Anyway, as I'm sure you can imagine, I've been a mess. We had both been trying for a baby for so long when I got pregnant, and I had yearned for a baby for a long time before that. It just doesn't seem fair. My husband has already mentioned trying again. I'm not even close to ready yet. I don't know when I will be. I don't know that I'd survive this again. I'm barely surviving this one.

 

On a brighter note, I have the most wonderful friends around me. So many people have told me they're praying for us, that I've lost count. Many of those people are folks I've never even met in person. I've met them on Facebook, and they have become like family. One Facebook friend wrote the most beautiful    poem for me. I'll try to remember to copy and paste it here on Sunday. Another one of my very good friends, Emma's godmother, came over for awhile today. She brought me a tiny Jade plant clipping in memory of tiny Charlotte. The thought, and the plant are both so beautiful. I really hope I don't kill it. I have such a black thumb. ;-) Then, yesterday after Mass, a woman I had seen before, but never met came up to us, and said that she didn't know what was wrong, but that she saw we were upset about something (it was probably the tears rolling down my cheeks as soon as I received Our Lord in the Eucharist), and wanted us to know she's praying for us. How sweet is that?!

 

I know I'll get through this, and God willing, go on to have a healthy child, but right now I'm teetering between being numb, heart-crushing agony, and feeling empty. I've come to enjoy the numbness. It's far superior to the heart-crushing agony.

 

Since our baby was so very tiny, and I never got a chance to hold it, I went searching the internet for some kind of memento I could keep to remember it by. I found this thing on Etsy that looked good, so I ordered one for $5, but what I got in the mail today looked nothing like the picture. In fact, it didn't even look like an embryo. It was supposed to be a life-like, accurate sized model of a 6 week old embryo. It looked like a tiny shrimp. It wasn't even the right size. Seriously. I'm probably just going to throw it away. It was absolutely no help at all.

 

Meanwhile, I found a different website that has the same sort of thing. I'm considering trying again, but after the shrimp experience, I'm not so sure.

 

I think I am doing a little better maybe. I only outright cried once today, and snapped at Emma only twice. Poor Emma. She doesn't quite get it. One minute, she's saying stuff like "I'm glad the baby's gone, because it would be crying a lot", and the next minute she's saying "I wish I could kiss the baby (meaning my belly), but it's gone." She also doesn't understand why I'm still so sad. I explained to her today that I'm sad because my baby died, that it would be like if she or Sissy had died. She just snuggled up to me in bed quietly for awhile after that, and eventually went to sleep. I think she might have an inkling now.

 

You know, a week ago today, I was pregnant, and happy, and everything was right in my world. What happened???

 

Anyway, I'm off to my prayers and then bed.

 

 

Goodnight, and God Bless

Dana