My Mother & father in law had drove up from California to help out around the house. I had been home for about 24 hours when Jason & I drove to the funeral home to speak to "Vivian" A.K.A the sympathetic stranger. We arrived at what felt like an abandoned building. The parking lot needed to be repaved & the parking lines had all but dissapeared. I remember thinking that maybe i should have driven past the place first before I chose it to handle the cremation. What was I thinking? Why was I thinking this? What did it matter what this place looked like? I would only have to visit this building twice. I shouldn't be thinking about how esthetically pleasing this building is but I guess it took my mind off of the real reason why I was there.
We buzzed a doorbell because the door was locked and waited. Vivian answered and showed us to a small table that had 3 wobbly chairs surrounding it. We had walked through a veneer coated door and down a ramp that was covered with what seemed like outdoor carpet because it was so thin & I could feel the plywood beneath it as I took each step. Several shelves were hung along the wall and displayed many urns and momentos like porcelain angels that could be purchased. I asked to use the restroom even though I did not need to go. I just needed to look myself in the mirror and say to myself "Be Strong"! I knew if I began to cry that I would not be able to stop & all I wanted to do was speed through this process & not prolong it. I walked back to the table to see my husbands look of relief that I had actually came back.
As she began to shuffle through the papers and instruct us on where to sign she asked if we wanted to see our baby and for a moment I was torn because I pictured him so tiny wrapped in a blanket all by himself in a huge room and I had to remind myself that he was gone & that me not wanting to see his cold lifeless body was not a sign of my love for him but rather a sign of my sanity & how I knew I needed to move forward if I were ever going to be emotionally healthy and that seeing him again would not only put a memory in my mind that I may not want but would also cause me to take a giant step backwards when I knew I needed to just keep moving forward even if it hurt to do so I could not stay stuck.
We signed and initialled as she rambled through each paragraph and then she handed us a book that we needed to flip through to decide which urn to order. She excused herself from the room and we had a simple conversation of just a few words. What about this.. one of us would say and the other would say...too dark or too square or too urn like until we came to the one that we could both agree upon. It was called the chestnut bronze heart & it measured 2"x2". What a tiny little capsule I thought when I read that it was 2 inches-I actually asked her when she walked back in if what we picked out would be big enough to hold his remains. Why did I ask her that? Like I thought the smallest urn in the book was too small to hold my 1 pound 11 inch long baby. I am not sure why it would even be in the book if it were to be too small for this paticular purpose of holding a micro-preemie.
We had to finish the paperwork and she began to ramble about a funeral of another baby and I am not sure what she said because all that I could think was why are you telling me this and wont you just be quiet so this can be over! She also mentioned that she too had lost a baby at birth and was not even able to hold him so she asked me if I held mine and tried to talk to me as if we both belonged to some newly formed club and I did not feel sympathetic to her nor could I relate because all that I felt was that my baby was the only baby who had ever died without even being allowed to live and that my pain was greater than anyone elses pain and that I did not want to even try to think that this stranger could relate to me because her pain was the same as mine. I just wanted to be done & never have to see, smell or be in this place again. I answered in one word sentences hoping that she would get the hint.
She asked questions like did we want him cremated in a special outfit or blanket or did we want to witness the cremation? I was so ready to be done and to never have to think these horrible thoughts ever again. I felt like a caged animal and would have done anything to have sped things up. We walked out with a paper in hand and her informing us that she would call when he was ready for pickup..."he" I thought, why don't you just call it what it is...The Chestnut Bronze Heart measuring 2x2 that will hold my sons ashes.
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