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