Still

Yesterday I went to the cemetery to see if the monument company had placed Brooklyn's headstone. I was reminded of when Brooklyn died. In fact, every time I drive by the mortuary I am reminded of this. The movies always make death very dramatic. The music and the crying and the heartbreak. After we discovered Brooklyn had died we were with her body for several hours. At first it was just shock. We sat there together. The house was very still. As if one less spirit in the house decreased all sounds by half. The world didn't stop. There was no dramatic music, just an acute awareness of how still my child really was. After awhile It began to hit me that she was gone. I removed all of the stickers and the oxygen from her face and I dressed her for burial. I realized that I would have to let the funeral home take her body away.

I'm ashamed to say that I didn't watch. It was too much for me. Everyone else watched though--and in the end I watched the van drive away with my daughter's body.

Shortly after I was in the funeral home. I was surprised at how peaceful it was. So quiet. So calm. For a place that sees so much death it was just...not what I expected. The funeral director was very kind and understanding. He helped us pick out a casket and explained to us that the headstone would not be ready for burial, it would be put in months later. And I don't know what I was expecting at the grave-side services but it was so strange to be sitting in the chairs before my daughter's casket as we sang and spoke of Christ and of being reunited and having faith in God's plan. Weird because everyone wants to comfort you and no one knows how so you end up sitting there, smiling for all those watching--at least, I did. I wasn't sad that day, because Brooklyn was with me. I could feel her. Sometimes I still can.

I didn't get to know Brooklyn as long as some who lose a loved one. Perhaps that's why my whole world didn't come crashing down during those days. I know she's in a better  place and she is free from her prison-body. Sometimes I miss her though, very intensely. One blessing I have been grateful for is the lack of jealousy or envy of other women's babies.

I have noticed an increase in my desire for more children. I'm afraid I will have to wait until after I go back to the doctor for an ultrasound of my chest. I am positive nothing is wrong, but I would hate to get pregnant and then discover that I have a serious problem.

My heart aches, just a little when I think of my sweet little Brooklyn.

My son and I are back to life as normal. He is just...growing up so fast. I don't mourn my daughter every day...just...some days. Most of the time I am too busy learning my son's personality to worry about anything else.


I guess i didn't really say anything...just...expressing some feelings.

Here is a video of my little Brooklyn. If for no one else, then for me. I can't figure out how to put it on, but here is the link.

C


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBT6DeY94uM