What do you do...

April 1, 2013

...after your baby dies?  I had no idea.  I had never had any kind of death or grief really in my life, much less my own child.  I had great grandparents die when I was 10 or 12, but they were old and it was to be expected at some point, right?  Plus, I was so young and not that close to them... I had one grandparent die before I was born and that was it.  During middle school, my friend's older brother died and that was a little bit of a shock, but I didn't know him that well and mostly I felt so sorry for their family, but what could I do?  I was in 6th grade and I wasn't going to bring it up.  The first thing the doctors, nurses and family members told us the day Molly died was the divorce statististics for couples who have lost a child (which I found out at the Respite Retreat were not exactly true, but that another story).  Even though Jeff and I felt closer and more connected than we ever had, it was a little scary to hear and we planned to get some sort of counseling at some point.  We pushed it aside for the moment because we had to plan a funeral.

One day soon, I will plan my funeral and pay for it.  As morbid as it sounds, that is the last thing the people who care about you the most will want to do.  There are a ton of decisions and costs that someone, who is in a fog because they just lost someone they loved, shouldn't even have to deal with.  We spent all day Tuesday going back and forth between the funeral home and the cemetary making decisions.  It was a horrible day. 

This was our baby girl Molly June, the day we buried her

I think one of the worst things going through this is that your friends and family want to be there for you and you want to know your not alone... but you just want to be alone.  You want to be able to cry when you feel like it, not talk if you feel like it, sit and stare into space when you feel like it.  You want to know they are there, but don't want put forth extra effort you would normally do to say and show your appreciation.  Most of the time, they understand this.  It has really been amazing to see who our true friends really are and who really cares.  Death is such a touchy subject, but even though it's uncomfortable, it happens and it will happen to all of us one day.

Before Molly died, I would hear about people here and there who had a miscarriage or had a baby die, or someone else die, or whose family member was diagnosed with cancer... whatever the case, it was an uncomfortable subject that I felt thankful I knew nothing about.  Then, when I'd see them, I may casually mention it, but definitely didn't dwell there too long.  Mostly, I'd just want to move on and act like life for them was the same as it was before.  I won't do that anymore.  It was crazy to me that some of the people that really reached out to me and comforted me when Molly died were people I hadn't been close to in years or never been close to at all.  And some people that I thought I was really close to barely awknowledged what happened.  I don't want everyone's life to revolve around me and my situation by any means, but out of all the people who reach out to you, it's sad that you really remember the ones who don't awknowledge it at all.  I need to say a heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to every person who has commented or liked a facebook status or link, everyone who sent cards or flowers, everyone who was at Molly's funeral and came up to me with no words and everyone who sent a text message or private facebook message just to tell me "I don't know what to say".  Those small things that seem so insignifcant sometimes to the person doing them mean so much to the person receiving them, in this case my family and I.   There have been people who don't want to talk about Molly or don't want to see pictures because it's a sad story to see and hear.  I totally get that and try not to get my feelings hurt or take it personally when that happens, but that sad story happened to me and I'm living with it every day.  I've learned to feel people out before I get out her scrapbook that I'm so proud of or before I say how much I miss her.  I have a handful of people that I can talk to about those things anytime and I love those people so much.  People who have not had to go through it in order to be in a place able to talk about and appreciate it.  People I truly admire because if the roles were reversed, I'm not sure I would have been able to do the same. 

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.  By this all people will know that you are my diciples, if you have love for one another."  John 13:34-35

"A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity."  Proverbs 17:17

The week after Molly died was a complete fog.  I remember shopping to find a dress for Molly, deciding on bible verses and songs for the service, figuring out where she'd be buried, my mom and sister shopping for me something to wear because I had post surgery setbacks where I was in a lot of pain for doing too much, going to the back room every 30 minutes during Molly's viewing to cry, taking Logan up to the casket to see Molly, riding in the funeral car with the funeral director and Molly's casket in the front seat, me and Hunter in the middle seat and Jeff and Logan in the back.  Logan sang Jesus Loves Me and Bob the Builder on the way.  I remember it being so cold and windy when we buried her.  I remember everyone leaving to go to their cars and Jeff and I standing there watching them put Molly in the ground.  The funeral dirctor had the men give Jeff and I each a handful of dirt to throw in.  This was the hardest part of the whole day.  Jeff threw his in and I just couldn't do it.  I started sobbing again finally throwing it in and feeling like I was leaving my child outside on a cold windy day with no one to take care of her.  That has been the hardest part of the cemetary thus far.  The feeling of obligation to go see her there and the horrible feeling of leaving there.  Every time I go, I feel guilty like I'm leaving my child.  I also remember going to a church after the funeral where good friends had provided food and it feeling like a guilty releif.  It was nice to have a lighter mood, but I felt guilty. It was nice to not be worrying or planning a funeral or making difficult decisions anymore.  It was a long day.

 Now I was about to have to go through a christmas we had planned with Molly in mind, right down to the stocking hung over the fireplace and presents I had already wrapped for her under the tree.  I was also about to begin a grief journey and a different life I had not planned for.