Today I painted my face to hide my blotchy cheeks and puffy eyes so I could go out into the world. But I am empty. Literally. I am empty.
As heartbreaking as Monday was, Wednesday was horrific. I have never in my life had any sort of surgical procedure. My heartache over the loss of our child was compounded by the anxiety I felt over being at the hospital and this caused an earth-shattering guilt because I felt I shouldn’t be worried about myself at all. Then, as I was finally released from the hospital, I had to reconcile myself to the fact that instead of bringing my child home warm and bundled in a carseat, I was bringing my child home in a small container.
Today, I wrap my head around the fact I had to pick out a little box. Why does no one ever talk about the tiny coffins? It is the smallest and saddest thing I have ever seen. And then to listen to CJ on the phone with one of the men from the cemetery, giving the dimensions of the little box? …
There are not adequate words to describe this situation. I am struggling to find a way to survive a funeral for my own child. I have never been to one before. And this has to be my first.
Many people have already made comments about trying again, but how can I even think about that when I have to put a child in the ground? Even then, I’m not sure if I will ever be ready. This has devastated me. These few days since Monday I have been having a hard time controlling my tears and even my actions around the other kids. How could I ever risk this happening again?
I am still a mother of four. This baby will always count. We will always remember.
I just finished rewatching A Little Bit of Heaven. I remember being sad the first time I watched it, but this time I cried like a baby. I think it was because of the recent deaths in my family. So why I chose to watch this movie now, I don’t know.
I feel awful that I didn’t get to go to my aunt’s funeral. (This is the aunt EM was named after.) I know she would have understood as she lived a few states away, but I still wish I could have said goodbye. Well, I more wish see would have been able to meet her namesake, but everyone thought she had more time. –this was difficult to put in the past tense.
I also feel horrible about the viewing I attended for my grandfather. I was uncomfortable and spent the whole time chatting with my mother and a cousin. I feel like a terrible person for being so uncomfortable, but since he had left my grandmother many years before I was born, I didn’t know any of his friends who were there; I barely knew him.
As I watched the end of this movie, I thought, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if that were true? That we get to witness our funeral and watch our loved ones say goodbye.” But then I thought how horrible a thing this would be for some people. I don’t want to think my grandfather saw me standing in a corner, awkwardly avoiding the front of the room where he was. Everyone deserves to be properly mourned and I don’t really think I lived up to that. And besides barely knowing him, I’ve never really been to anything like that before.
‘Knock on wood,’ I have never really lost anyone in my life. Up until he passed, I had all my grandparents, all my aunts and uncles, and even great-aunt and uncles. I am petrified that when someone passes that I knew better, I won’t be able to handle it. Having no real experience dealing with death and loss at the age of 27, I don’t know if I will be able to hold myself together.