Aug 6th-Aug 15th

On Aug 6th we moved into an apartment for what felt like a fresh start. We moved from 3800sf to 1200sf & packed most of our life away in storage. I had kept busy with packing & moving & unpacking & now I sat wondering what to do next. I was doing research each day on the city that we are planning to move to & that would occupy my time for a bit. I began to enjoy sitting on the floor with the kids & teaching them how to play, coming up with different scenarios for my little pony or barbie to act out. We would travel to magic lands where the water would sparkle & the fairies would drop gumballs from the trees. Having them right under me or next to me was a breathe of fresh air. I noticed quickly how lack of space made our life more fun. Having fun with the kids along with the daily household duties seemed to pass time somewhat quickly.

It was Aug 15th before I thought about my loss again. I had began to menstruate for the first time since giving birth and although to most, this is a sign of healing, to me it brought me right back to the day that I began to have contractions. The fear I felt because it was too soon & I knew my baby would die became apparant back on June 23rd when I wiped & saw blood on the tissue.

Now seeing blood on the tissue was not a sign of death but rather a sign that my body was functioning the way that it should. I spiraled this day into a fetal position not wanting to move because menstruation meant I was no longer pregnant-I knew this, but the cramping & the blood reminded me of it.

I knew that having others give birth who were pregnant at the same time as me to healthy babies would be days that the hurt would come back & I prepared myself for these days. I knew the weekend that I had planned to have my baby shower would be a day of pain & finally when my due date comes. I thought about & prepared for these days of pain. I was not prepared for the start of my period to bring emotional pain.

It is interesting how grief pops its head up when you least expect it & can place a black cloud on your day if you let it. For now I am letting it. Each day that I feel it popping up which is becoming fewer & farther between I let it take control. I collapse in defeat & mourn the loss of my son all over again. It seems easier this way than to push it down & pretend that it doesn't exist.

After I or my husband picks me back up again I try to take another step forward moving away from the pain. I know that these dark days will pass & soon will be no more. I know that by allowing them to occur I may seem weak or it may seem unhealthy but for me just the opposite is true. I feel stronger after they pass as if I am one step closer to the rest of my life.

I pampered myself the following week with a mani/pedi & massage. I highly reccomend this form of therapy where you indulge in a healthy activity that makes you happy. I know that Christ is allowing me to be happy & helping me to see that through the pain I will still Live. I could not do this alone & loving the Lord keeps me in good company.

I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD. Psalm 118:17



July 12th-Aug 6th

Jason was out of town a few days during the week after we had retrieved the urn so I found myself sleeping with the bronze heart shaped capsule. I would tuck my kids into bed & as I climbed into bed I would retrieve the heart from its velvet box & hold it in my hand as I cried. I discovered that as I held it that it would become warm. I would pull it out of the box and it would be cold as ice but as I held it & talked to Calvin it would become warm. I knew this was a normal response of metal to warm as it is exposed to heat such as the heat from my hand but as I held the tiny heart and it began to feel warm it was comforting as if I was bringing comfort to my baby. I knew he was not in there but it was the only thing that I could do and as a mother I needed to nurture & provide comfort even if it was to a tiny bronzed heart that held his ashes.

Life began to move a little quicker & we had decided that it was time to move from where we were. We planned a trip to California to the city that we were planning to move to & Jason flew out a few days after the kids & I drove down. I was packing our suitcases and loading the car but before I could leave I needed to grab the velvet box. It sounds crazy but I did not feel that I could leave Calvins ashes in our home all alone. I placed the box in the car amongst the other items & headed to California.

Once in California Calvins ashes came into the room with me & stayed in my suitcase. I knew he was not in there but having all that I had left of him with me was enough. I did not need to sleep with his urn & began to seperate my thoughts of Calvin from his urn with his ashes. I know that I can speak to Calvin even without holding his urn in my hand. I know that comforting my baby was given to me for a short period of time. I held him inside of me from mid January to June 23rd. For 5 months I comforted him & for almost two hours after he was born. I had been given all of the chances to comfort him that I would ever have. Holding his urn was not providing him comfort but prolonging my pain.

When we lose someone it is as if we need to make ourselves suffer because the pain that we feel is so strong that it feels that you NEED to feel it all, every last drop of pain, as if you are closer to the person that you lost because you are hurting. I felt that I had to feel it all & be faced with anguish. I had to feel sorry for myself before I could take a step forward. I am stronger than I was on June 23rd. I face the 23rd of each month and reflect on how I feel after another month has passed. It has been 3 months & it is hard to remember his face, the way he felt or his smell. I have a hard time with this because a part of me wants to stay stuck & a part of me wants to run as fast as I can forgetting it all. I know time will make things easier in one sense because I will not think of him everday as time passes & I will look at his picture less often.

I know however that each time I think of him & each time I look at his picture I hurt just as bad as the day that I had to let him go. Time will heal some parts but I will never be whole again. Even if I am in a great place, I will always have a tiny little space inside of me, inside of my heart or my gut or wherever it is I just know it feels empty.

I lost that piece of me when Calvin died.

Monday July 11th

The phone rang & I recognized the number. It was Vivian from the funeral home. I took a deep breathe & almost ignored the call because I knew why she was calling. I said "hello" & she said "your sons remains are ready for pickup". I hope to never have to hear those words again! Jason took the morning off & My friend who was visiting stayed with our children. As we drove to the office we did not say much. I remember thinking about how I needed to keep it together & wondered what to do with the ashes once I was in the car. I wondered if I should hold them or place them in the center console. Such a strange thought process because it really did not matter & my husband would not judge me either way but I could not help but to think of how I should act & what I should do as if I needed to plan the script in my head. It was such a foreign experience. Nothing that anyone could ever prepare for. No matter how many times I thought it out I could not decide what to do or how I should act. We pulled into the parking lot & I lost my train of thought & began to focus instead on making the process quick, like pulling off a band-aid.

 We rang the bell & she opened the door & said just a moment as we stepped inside. She returned carrying a dark blue velvet box & inside of the box was the heart shaped urn that we had picked out.

                        

It was small enough to hold in one hand. I opened the box & ran my finger across the urn. It was cold like metal. We walked to the car & I decided to drive because I had cried enough & I did not want to sit & think I just wanted to focus on driving. As I hopped in the car I realized that by driving that I could not hold the box that held what was left of my baby so without thinking I did what I do with anything that is in my hand as I enter the car, I placed the box in the center console.

I thought on the way home if this choice was apropriate & I decided that my only other option would have been for Jason to hold it & putting him in a place where he needed to hold a box on his lap that held a urn that held Calvin's ashes would have been tough for him. This was best for both of us.

In the days before I had pictured myself sobbing as I held the box on the way home. I had pictured an end to our journey because we would finally be able to bring our baby home. I discovered as I drove that bringing Calvin home was not an option. Calvin was gone & what I was doing was just a formality. I was retrieving the box that held the urn that encapsulated my baby's ashes.

I will cherish this tiny urn & always keep it close but this heart shaped piece of bronze is not my baby.

My Baby is gone.

It is God who gives me strength & makes my way perfect. 2 Samuel 22:33