Funny Thing Happened While Planning a Funeral

Today I received a call from my parish nun regarding an email I sent yesterday to her and the priest about funeral arrangements. She was wondering if we could get together to do some planning. I was excited to have some help since my husband is not religious and that's not exactly "his thing" so we set up a meeting for later this morning and she graciously offered to come to our house. Sister arrives and we sit down at the kitchen table and begin looking at readings and talking about the service. My two youngest daughters are happily dancing in the adjoining living area. The older one catches my attention and points to her youngest sister. I look up and see the little one running around with just her shirt and underpants on. I asked her to please put her pants back on to which she promptly refused. They disappeared for a minute and returned to the living room both without their pants.

My children dancing around the living room with no pants on and a nun at my kitchen table. Seriously. I just couldn't make this stuff up.

Gathered the Courage to Call the Funeral Home

Today, for whatever reason, I found the courage to do what I have been postponing for some time. I called the funeral home and set up an appointment to meet with someone to arrange our baby's funeral. I had hoped my husband would do so and asked him, but he has been avoiding the call as well, I'm sure for the same reasons I have. It's all so final. I have made so many of these calls in the last week. I have notified my Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep photographer of our c-section date and time, notified the genetic counselor we met with that we have decided to pursue an autopsy of this little one (we chose not to with Wyatt and I struggled with the decision here) in the hopes of discovering additional information hidden to the human eye that might tell us why two of our children have been so afflicted, and now I made the call to the funeral home. There are so few things left to do. I even packed my hospital bag today. The casket is almost ready, I sewed a lace and satin pillow this weekend and my husband affixed the cross to the top. We still plan to find a way for our daughters to put some sibling flair on it for baby but haven't quite figured that one out yet. It has always been a waiting game, but now almost all of the work is done and the real waiting, in terms of days, no longer months, begins.

Having already buried one child and subsequently brought three healthy little girls home from the hospital, it dawned on me that losing a child is alot more complicated than raising a child. When you give birth to a child that will live, you don't need to have clothes or diapers or frankly really anything for the baby on hand. The hospital has gowns, blankets, diapers, wipes and everything else you will need right away. When you give birth to a child that will not live or not live long it is so important to have everything at your fingertips: a special outfit, blanket, booties, lotion, handprint/footprint molds, baby book, camera, video camera, etc. You only get one chance to do everything that you want to do with your baby. Moments, minutes, hours to capture all of the sounds, scents, touches and snuggles that will need to endure for a lifetime. All of this careful and deliberate planning fits into one carry-on sized bag. I know this because I have now packed that bag for a second time.

I Have Nothing Left to Give

Yesterday I reached a point of physical, mental and emotional exhaustion that has left me with nothing left to give anyone. Monday my husband and I spent some quality time at the birthing floor of the hospital where I have given birth to all of my children and where I will welcome this one in just about seven weeks. In the same room as Wyatt left this world. We met with hospital personnel to create a birth plan for this little one, a mesh of hospital policy, forms and our own special wishes for this child. It was determined, primarily by me, that I will spend my hospital stay in the same room that I spent with Wyatt. I could feel him all around me and I can't think of a better place to welcome his little brother or sister. It was a day of anticipation and dread and one that left me satisfied but empty. Our wishes will be honored and I fully expect to welcome Wyatt's sibling in a very eerily similar way to the way we celebrated his birth and death.

Yesterday I spent almost my entire morning at the hospital, beginning with a one hour glucose test which always entails spending more than an hour in the lab. My day started off late and progressively ran later which did little for my stress level. I failed my one hour glucose test with my first two pregnancies and passed with my second two so it was a crap shoot at best and I could think of no worse torture than having to spend three plus hours in a waiting room with other pregnant women knowing that I would lose my pregnancy. I guardedly crocheted this baby's white blanket hoping no one would approach me or ask about my pregnancy. I was blessed that no one did. A double blessing later in the morning when I got the news that I passed the glucose test and would be spared from the three hour torture that follows a failing result. Of course, few roses are thorn-free, so I did have to endure a RhoGam shot for good measure.

I was able to schedule baby's birth date and can now share that he or she will hopefully enter this world no sooner than March 11, 2011. The events of the previous two days have left me completely spent, today with a rare headache. I pray for our little one to grow and thrive in utero so that he or she may be born alive and kicking on March 11th and be strong enough to spend some time with us before joining his or her little brother.

Empty Crib, Bigger Playroom

We have carried this knowledge for about ten weeks.  Ten weeks of knowing there would be no baby to introduce to his or her Winnie the Pooh themed bedroom, the same bedroom that three little girls have come home to over the past six years.  Yet we have left the baby's crib standing in the bedroom, stripped but filled with my youngest daughter's overflow of stuffed animals from her own bed.  She moved out of the crib before she turned two late this summer which incidentally is when we conceived this baby.  I have made so many lists and prepared so many things yet it never, honestly never, occurred to me to remove the crib from their room.  I enter that room dozens of times every day and it has not once caught my attention or served as a reminder that there is no need for this particular piece of furniture.  I really don't understand why.

So when my husband asked me yesterday if he should take down the crib it caused me to pause for a moment.  Yes, I actually had to think about it before answering.  Of course the crib should come down.  It takes up over half of one wall in the girls' (two youngest) bedroom and by removing the crib it would give them so extra floor space to play in their room.  My husband nonchalantly mentioned that he didn't mind taking it down and putting it up again.  I love him so much for saying that, for believing that this is not the end, that there is hope.  Hope is ever elusive but he captured it for a brief second yesterday and for that I am grateful.

Meanwhile, our children are happily, okay boisterously playing in their newly spacious bedroom at the moment, probably completely unaware at how symbolic the removal of their crib was.

Building a Casket

It's been over two months since we found out about this baby and my way of coping has been precise, bordering almost obsessive list making.  Checking things off one by one.  I have delicately broached the topic of funeral and burial with my husband but not pursued the issue.  My husband made Wyatt's casket himself.  Actually, he made two, one tiny casket that as the pregnancy progressed it became clear would not be large enough.  He then set about making a larger casket that would accommodate a full term baby.  He spent many many hours in our garage cutting, piecing, gluing, nailing, sanding and finishing the casket.  Then he brought it inside and lined it with fluff and shiny white fabric.  He decorated it with tiny white pearls and crafted a perfect little white pillow for the baby's head.  I can't describe the emotions I felt as I watched him do all of this but the pride that I felt and still feel is unmatched.  He created our child's final resting place.

This weekend he began this baby's casket.  His silence and inaction had led me to believe that he may not be able to do another one.  I was wrong.  It just wasn't time yet.  Time is the only thing we have right now, but it is starting to run out, our clock is ticking and it's getting louder.

Preparations for Baby Number Five

For the past five weeks I have been preparing.  That's me.  I'm a type-A, list-maker individual.  I like to know what's going to happen, when and then what after that.  So I've begun.  I've started a list of things that need to be done before baby is born.  I've started a birth plan, met with my priest to discuss baptism/funeral arrangements, thought about headstone/burial issues, purchased two small baby outfits, crocheted a baby afghan and hat and have begun another.  I've emptied off my digital camera memory card, charged my video camera battery and made sure we have a black and white roll of film ready to go for our film camera.  I have lists in my dresser drawer for my husband in case anything should happen to me and he needs it.  My worst fear is  losing control of the situation, because control over preparation is all I have.  When baby comes it's really not in my hands anymore and I am prepared to deal with that when the time comes.

I have also prepared for the months ahead, I have purchased birthday gifts and am trying to get as much done as possible should things veer of course in the future.  This baby was due about 3 weeks after my middle daughter's birthday but due to the likely earlier c-section it will now be born less than a week after her birthday.  My son's birthday is just 4 days before our oldest daughter's.  It is bittersweet to have them so close together, one so sad and one so joyful.  A very real reminder of the fine line between life and death.

Preparing to Say Goodbye

While nourishing the life in my womb, we also had to prepare for that life to end.  My husband set about making a tiny casket for the baby.  I crocheted a baby blanket.  Time passed and it soon became clear that a bigger casket would be needed.  So my husband lovingly crafted another tiny, but larger, casket.  We were able to do these things and had accepted the reality of what would soon happen, but even so there were some things I just couldn't bring myself to do.  I could not make funeral arrangements, it was difficult enough to give words to what would happen, but to plan how it would go was more than I could handle.  The days, weeks and even months passed by.  We roamed the cemetery and chose grave plots, for ourselves with our precious baby in between.  How many 24 year olds can say they have a plot in the cemetery?  That time was a gift, time to absorb, prepare and tackle each task individually.

I remember discomfort carrying the baby, it was fairly high up and moved into a transverse position.  When the baby stretched I could literally see my stomach expand left to right and it was very uncomfortable.  I could feel a big round head on the right side of my belly and bottom on the left. When I would wake up in the morning baby would be all bumbled up on whichever side of my stomach was resting on the bed.  Baby remained in a transverse position and with the lack of amniotic fluid that's where it stayed.  Our doctor graciously gave us the opportunity to meet our baby alive by scheduling a c-section for 37 weeks.  We would soon meet our first child.  The night before baby was born was so bittersweet.  I was so excited to meet the precious child I had grown and  loved over the past 37 weeks, a child whose strength and will to live inspired me to continue our journey towards his birth.  But at the same time, I was so sad to let him out knowing that he was only safe inside my womb.  I was also really scared to see the baby knowing that there may be other physical problems.  There was also nerves and fear surrounding having a c-section.  Especially since I had never had major surgery.  With so many unknowns, there was still one certainty, that our home would remain empty.