It took us several weeks to actually pick a day for the c-section. The Thanksgiving holiday made it much more complicated. But we settled on today, hoping that our Thanksgiving would be especially meaningful. We'd hoped that Elliana would surprise us all and prove the doctors wrong - and live.
But today has looked so very different from what we had hoped and planned.
The pendulum of my thoughts and emotions has swung from one end to the other. Several times.
I've felt an ache so deep that my tears can't even begin to express it. And then I've imagined her healed, perfect little body in glory.
I've longed to hold her just one more time - to feel the weight of her on my chest. And then I've remembered that she'll never know the pain of this world.
I've wished that I could have known her longer, and carried her for these past 6 1/2 weeks, even if only in the womb. And then I've wondered if she would have suffered - if those extra weeks of life would have been hard on her.
This morning, I went back to the church where Elliana's funeral was held. I haven't been back since that day, October 10. I played the piano on the stage where my musician friends led us in worship that day. It was so hard to go back. And it was so difficult to put my fingers on the keys and play.
But it was healing.
Jason received a phone call yesterday from Cemetery Lady. (I feel like I should have good nicknames for Cemetery Lady and Funeral Home Man. But I don't. They are just... Cemetery Lady and Funeral Home Man.) Cemetery Lady said that Elliana's stone had been placed.
**Big Sigh**
So I got a last-minute sitter and met Jason at the cemetery shortly before dark so we could see her stone together.
It looked so final. And heavy. And done. Finished. Forever.
Seeing her name on that stone was like another cold splash of reality.
'Elliana' - our ray of sunshine, and God's answer to me.
'Belle' - the name her daddy picked, and the second half of his sweet nickname for her - Ella Belle.
'Mackenzie' - a family name on my side. All of the Odell cousins have 'Mackenzie' as their second middle name. As I stood there, looking at this piece of granite in the ground, this reality hit me hard so hard: one of the cousins is in a cemetery. There is now an Odell cousin with a headstone.
'Lindegren' - the first Lindegren in this generation to have had a funeral, and her name put on a stone.
This morning, I placed the first flowers in her vase.
It feels a little bit weird to post a picture of her stone. But this - the blog - is my journal. I would put a picture in my journal. It's not a great picture - the bottom of it says 'Our little ray of sunshine'. And there's a sun peeking out from the clouds in the top right corner. Looking back, I sorta wish I'd found the energy to push a little harder and find a bigger sun. But as we looked at proofs of what would be inscribed on the stone, and as we looked through pictures of symbols to place on it, all of it just felt so wrong. So very wrong. I didn't have the energy or motivation to make it 'absolutely perfect'. I just wanted my baby. And to stop looking at proofs of what would be inscribed on a piece of rock.
I don't think it's possible for a mom to be 'happy' with a headstone for her child. I'd rather have my child, and no headstone at all. But if she had to have a stone, then this one is 'fitting' for my Elliana.
*A note from Jason - And if you notice right around the edge of the stone, the grass is still green near the end of November.
Hugs. I good fit is perhaps the best you can hope for. "Headstone" is certainly not what most people add to their baby registries :(
ReplyDeleteFor me, nothing is "good enough" for my baby. The nicest headstone or urn in the world could never be good enough. Because nothing can be as perfect as my baby is, as yours is. Nothing.