It was really weird picking out Andrew's last outfit he would ever wear. An outfit he would never be aware that he had worn it.
But I remember being so upset that the outfit we picked out for him didn't fit. Not necessarily because of the outfit. It disturbed me that he was naked. Undressed. Laying on a cold metal slab until his hand-carved casket arrived from the monastery in Dubuque.
When we dropped off our final selection, chose more out of desperation of having to find something than something we really wanted, the coordinator escorted us to a room where we could be alone. We were totally wiped out. We had spent 2 - 3 hours shopping. Had spent some money on something that was alright but I wished would have been more "him".
At least he would be dressed now.
We just sat there and didn't say a word. Feeling numb. Feeling exhausted. Feeling that it shouldn't be this way.
It shouldn't be this way.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
The Outfit
One of the tough moments, of many, came within an hour of meeting at the funeral home and making arrangements.
The funeral director left the room for us to look through books on flowers and caskets. Consider these odd things that we had to deal with. When she returned to the room, I recall feeling a slight bit composed. Jaime, the director, told us that she just heard that they had just received his remains.
That stopped the room. Nothing moved. Everyone looked at us watchful of what we would do. And the oddest feeling. A sudden pit in the depth of our hearts. A sinking feeling. A sharp pain of loneliness.It caught in my throat.I reached out for Mark's arm.My eyes looked down as my face fell.
"Really?" Was our reaction. "He's here."
"Yes."
It was such an odd feeling knowing that he was now at the main funeral home loctaion.
They were verifying his measurements and confirmed the size of casket that would be needed for him. And soon learned that the Mickey Mouse outfit was too small. We would have to find him something else. But there was nothing else at home.
We went out on the oddest shopping trip. Something cute. Something him.
We walked through a few different stores. There were some cute outfits but none of them were right.
But Mark picked out a red polo T-shirt and blue jean shorts. I didn't like it but we felt ill as we looked through the baby clothes at the stores. I was so exhausted and mentally drained. I didn't think I would ever find the right outfit. And didn't want to drag this out any more than it had.
But he couldn't be naked.
The funeral director left the room for us to look through books on flowers and caskets. Consider these odd things that we had to deal with. When she returned to the room, I recall feeling a slight bit composed. Jaime, the director, told us that she just heard that they had just received his remains.
That stopped the room. Nothing moved. Everyone looked at us watchful of what we would do. And the oddest feeling. A sudden pit in the depth of our hearts. A sinking feeling. A sharp pain of loneliness.It caught in my throat.I reached out for Mark's arm.My eyes looked down as my face fell.
"Really?" Was our reaction. "He's here."
"Yes."
It was such an odd feeling knowing that he was now at the main funeral home loctaion.
They were verifying his measurements and confirmed the size of casket that would be needed for him. And soon learned that the Mickey Mouse outfit was too small. We would have to find him something else. But there was nothing else at home.
We went out on the oddest shopping trip. Something cute. Something him.
We walked through a few different stores. There were some cute outfits but none of them were right.
But Mark picked out a red polo T-shirt and blue jean shorts. I didn't like it but we felt ill as we looked through the baby clothes at the stores. I was so exhausted and mentally drained. I didn't think I would ever find the right outfit. And didn't want to drag this out any more than it had.
But he couldn't be naked.
No One Got to Meet Him
Life is very surreal after you lose your baby.
I remember that less than 48 hours after Andrew had died, my husband and I found ourselves at a funeral home with a very nice garden. I kept looking out the window at the garden whenever the funeral director or her coordinator left the room. And I would often think of how beautiful the garden was. How idyllic life looked as the sun shone brightly down on all this lush greenery and flowers.
Pastor Quimby and Sandra accompanied us on this occassion. They were sent by our church to be with us as we learned of Andrew's bleak condition.
Our head pastor was unable to come since he was preparing for church. Our church has services on Saturday nights and Sunday mornings.
Oddly, we had never met Pastor Quimby and his wife before that moment. What a way to meet people!
They were very kind and compassionate. Very understanding. They were new at our church. Had just arrived a few weeks or days earlier or something.
They were kind of like grandparents to us. Wisdom. Understanding. Caring. Patient.
So we're sitting there being asked questions we never thought we would think about for Andrew.
What day should we have the funeral
Who will do the ceremony
Burial or cremation
Musical selections for the funeral
What flowers do we want to pick
Flowers? I had no idea. What do you do for flowers? I just wanted my son back. My head swam as I looked through the book of flower selections.
We often glazed over. We cried. We giggled. They asked us what Andrew was like.
About the boys.
And they never rushed us. They would even tell us that we didn't have to decide certain things until the next day or Wednesday. That was a relief to not have to decide on everything right away.
What did we bring for his personal affects was one of the more sorrowful and moments. It took me quite awhile to figure out what to bring the day before. And was torture to look through his little things. So painful I can't even write of it right now. One of the more agonizing moments. . .
I brought out the plastic bag that held his most dear possessions. A quilt he got in NICU from a generous family that wanted to bless us as we celebrated his first Christmas in the hospital. Another blanket that he also got in the hospital. It lays under him still.
But the outfit. The outfit I chose was this adorable 3 month old Mickey Mouse shirt and matching trousers. It was an outfit Andrew got. It was no dress outfit like most are buried in. But it didn't seem right that he be put into a suit. Although he would have looked extremely adorable and handsome, he had never worn one. So I looked through all of his outfits to find something that was his alone. I couldn't bear the thought of another wearing anything that was new for him. To this day I still struggle with that. All that he wore, whether his prior brothers wore it or it was new, are packed away in a plastic storage bin.
The outfit was so cute. I loved putting him in it. A favorite of mine. I thought he would be showed off well in that.
Obviously we chose an open casket.
No one got to meet him. We had to hide him away to protect him from germs and illness. At least we would have one moment where all could meet him.
I remember that less than 48 hours after Andrew had died, my husband and I found ourselves at a funeral home with a very nice garden. I kept looking out the window at the garden whenever the funeral director or her coordinator left the room. And I would often think of how beautiful the garden was. How idyllic life looked as the sun shone brightly down on all this lush greenery and flowers.
Pastor Quimby and Sandra accompanied us on this occassion. They were sent by our church to be with us as we learned of Andrew's bleak condition.
Our head pastor was unable to come since he was preparing for church. Our church has services on Saturday nights and Sunday mornings.
Oddly, we had never met Pastor Quimby and his wife before that moment. What a way to meet people!
They were very kind and compassionate. Very understanding. They were new at our church. Had just arrived a few weeks or days earlier or something.
They were kind of like grandparents to us. Wisdom. Understanding. Caring. Patient.
So we're sitting there being asked questions we never thought we would think about for Andrew.
What day should we have the funeral
Who will do the ceremony
Burial or cremation
Musical selections for the funeral
What flowers do we want to pick
Flowers? I had no idea. What do you do for flowers? I just wanted my son back. My head swam as I looked through the book of flower selections.
We often glazed over. We cried. We giggled. They asked us what Andrew was like.
About the boys.
And they never rushed us. They would even tell us that we didn't have to decide certain things until the next day or Wednesday. That was a relief to not have to decide on everything right away.
What did we bring for his personal affects was one of the more sorrowful and moments. It took me quite awhile to figure out what to bring the day before. And was torture to look through his little things. So painful I can't even write of it right now. One of the more agonizing moments. . .
I brought out the plastic bag that held his most dear possessions. A quilt he got in NICU from a generous family that wanted to bless us as we celebrated his first Christmas in the hospital. Another blanket that he also got in the hospital. It lays under him still.
But the outfit. The outfit I chose was this adorable 3 month old Mickey Mouse shirt and matching trousers. It was an outfit Andrew got. It was no dress outfit like most are buried in. But it didn't seem right that he be put into a suit. Although he would have looked extremely adorable and handsome, he had never worn one. So I looked through all of his outfits to find something that was his alone. I couldn't bear the thought of another wearing anything that was new for him. To this day I still struggle with that. All that he wore, whether his prior brothers wore it or it was new, are packed away in a plastic storage bin.
The outfit was so cute. I loved putting him in it. A favorite of mine. I thought he would be showed off well in that.
Obviously we chose an open casket.
No one got to meet him. We had to hide him away to protect him from germs and illness. At least we would have one moment where all could meet him.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Andrew is Always in Heart and Mind
I am enjoying a classical period piece that takes place during WWI in England. It's the second season. An interesting storyline.
One of the maids was talking with a butler that was respectfully asking to see more of her since her prior love, another butler, left. She was quite gracious in her response by saying that if a mother loses her child and thinks of it always throughout the day. The memory of the child always goes with her. Her love for her beau was the same way. She would always think about him every day.
And I can relate. Andrew is always in my thoughts every day. There is no way I will ever forget him. He's always there. Along with my other children. And with the one I love.
One of the maids was talking with a butler that was respectfully asking to see more of her since her prior love, another butler, left. She was quite gracious in her response by saying that if a mother loses her child and thinks of it always throughout the day. The memory of the child always goes with her. Her love for her beau was the same way. She would always think about him every day.
And I can relate. Andrew is always in my thoughts every day. There is no way I will ever forget him. He's always there. Along with my other children. And with the one I love.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Andrew's belongings
Last night I went downstairs, opened our storage closet and walked in. While this may seem pretty mundane and ordinary having no possible relevance to anyone. It is relevant to me. For the first time since November, I made my way to the back corner of the closet and opened the plastic bin holding all of Andrew's personal affects.
There are most of the outfits he wore in his life. Newborn to 6 - 9 months. Blankets. The few toys and stuffed animals he received. And items from the funeral.
I knelt down and touched a few of the outfits he had worn a year ago. Immediately memories came to me of him in each outfit I saw. I rubbed them gently. And put the lid back on, rose up and got out of there as quickly as I could. Gosh will I ever be able to look and touch his things without such a strong reaction.
We have some keep sakes the funeral home has made available for us that friends are holding. I am reluctant to bring home the flower they preserved from the spray on his casket. The Art Studio that is making the marker has some of his things as well. How do I do that too? And a tree was planted in his memory at the Botanical Garden. There is supposed to be a plaque with his name on it. I'm not sure when to go see it.
I'm not sure how to handle his belongings.
So I won't decide today.
There are most of the outfits he wore in his life. Newborn to 6 - 9 months. Blankets. The few toys and stuffed animals he received. And items from the funeral.
I knelt down and touched a few of the outfits he had worn a year ago. Immediately memories came to me of him in each outfit I saw. I rubbed them gently. And put the lid back on, rose up and got out of there as quickly as I could. Gosh will I ever be able to look and touch his things without such a strong reaction.
We have some keep sakes the funeral home has made available for us that friends are holding. I am reluctant to bring home the flower they preserved from the spray on his casket. The Art Studio that is making the marker has some of his things as well. How do I do that too? And a tree was planted in his memory at the Botanical Garden. There is supposed to be a plaque with his name on it. I'm not sure when to go see it.
I'm not sure how to handle his belongings.
So I won't decide today.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
It's Just How It Is
It's just how it is.
(All names in the account below are fictional to keep them anonymous.)
I met a man today. John. It was a very intriguing meeting. Something unexpected. Not planned by me at all. It was a very pleasant conversation. One that has definitely peaked my curiosity and has given me some things to consider. More discussions may follow. We'll see.
A friend of mine was there as well, Travis. I feel badly for the man and for Travis. Without knowing it, the conversation came around to my children. John thought I had 4 even though I told him I had three.
"I thought there were 4?" He said.
It was a bit awkward. I didn't want to tell someone I was meeting for the first time, especially in a business setting, that Andrew had died. It's just not the place. People get all weird. It makes things a little strange and they don't know what to say and I don't want people to think I am about ready to fall apart on the spot. So I just don't mention it. So I try to kindly say again, "No. I only have 3." At this point is what I think to myself.
I hoped he wouldn't pursue the matter further. I didn't want him to feel embarrassed or to have to reassure him that it was okay. He couldn't know. I know it's an awkward subject to maneuver.
"Then why did I think there were 4?" he said, or something like that, perplexed.
Oh shoot, I'm thinking. How do I handle this without making him feel bad? To make this as quick of a conversation as possible. Travis seemed to reach across the table to comfort me. I think he may have tried to speak up. He was probably concerned. Travis has a very good heart.
"Well," I start to say looking away trying to find the words. How to say it so that it came out quickly and caused the least disturbance. "We . . . ah . . . did have 4." Then he started to get that look that people get at this point. Almost like, oops, I stumbled into a hard subject I guess.
"We had 4 but . . . we lost one." I said quickly trying to give him a look like I didn't want him to feel badly. He couldn't know. Of course he got the look that many do that learn of this for the first time. Like they step into a mine. They seem to feel badly. That they shouldn't have asked.
"Oh, I'm sorry." He said as he reached out to touch my arm.
I felt so bad for him. It wasn't that bad to have his identity known. I wasn't in a spot where I was emotional. I felt strong at that moment. The sad truth was there that our son is not with us anymore in this life but it wasn't a moment heavy on my heart.
I tried to give him a sincere smile to say that he had caused no hardship to me. "It's alright." I tried to reassure him. I hope Travis didn't feel bad then. That he saw that it was alright.
I felt so bad.
It's just how it is.
(All names in the account below are fictional to keep them anonymous.)
I met a man today. John. It was a very intriguing meeting. Something unexpected. Not planned by me at all. It was a very pleasant conversation. One that has definitely peaked my curiosity and has given me some things to consider. More discussions may follow. We'll see.
A friend of mine was there as well, Travis. I feel badly for the man and for Travis. Without knowing it, the conversation came around to my children. John thought I had 4 even though I told him I had three.
"I thought there were 4?" He said.
It was a bit awkward. I didn't want to tell someone I was meeting for the first time, especially in a business setting, that Andrew had died. It's just not the place. People get all weird. It makes things a little strange and they don't know what to say and I don't want people to think I am about ready to fall apart on the spot. So I just don't mention it. So I try to kindly say again, "No. I only have 3." At this point is what I think to myself.
I hoped he wouldn't pursue the matter further. I didn't want him to feel embarrassed or to have to reassure him that it was okay. He couldn't know. I know it's an awkward subject to maneuver.
"Then why did I think there were 4?" he said, or something like that, perplexed.
Oh shoot, I'm thinking. How do I handle this without making him feel bad? To make this as quick of a conversation as possible. Travis seemed to reach across the table to comfort me. I think he may have tried to speak up. He was probably concerned. Travis has a very good heart.
"Well," I start to say looking away trying to find the words. How to say it so that it came out quickly and caused the least disturbance. "We . . . ah . . . did have 4." Then he started to get that look that people get at this point. Almost like, oops, I stumbled into a hard subject I guess.
"We had 4 but . . . we lost one." I said quickly trying to give him a look like I didn't want him to feel badly. He couldn't know. Of course he got the look that many do that learn of this for the first time. Like they step into a mine. They seem to feel badly. That they shouldn't have asked.
"Oh, I'm sorry." He said as he reached out to touch my arm.
I felt so bad for him. It wasn't that bad to have his identity known. I wasn't in a spot where I was emotional. I felt strong at that moment. The sad truth was there that our son is not with us anymore in this life but it wasn't a moment heavy on my heart.
I tried to give him a sincere smile to say that he had caused no hardship to me. "It's alright." I tried to reassure him. I hope Travis didn't feel bad then. That he saw that it was alright.
I felt so bad.
It's just how it is.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Remembering the Homecoming of Andrew
2012
It's hard to believe that it's 2012.
And today is January 7th. A normal day to everyone else. And to me, and probably me alone, it is the anniversary of the day we brought Andrew home. We didn't know it at this time 1 year ago but, when I went to visit him after work, they told me that today was the day. I was in shock. I was a bit scared and felt a twinge of uncertainty mixed with hesitancy.
He was still so small. Only a little over 6 pounds at this point. And not really any longer. Still a little dolly-like person. But he could feed by mouth around the clock and had figured out the connection between his mouth and his tummy. This amazing turn started at the beginning of the week and quickly accelerated.
The regular nurse said it is not uncommon that once they make that connection, they accelerate into feeding by mouth for every feeding. We were amazed and it turned him around completely.
I frantically called Mark and told him the good news. He grabbed an outfit, his little jumpsuit, and made arrangements for grandma to watch the boys. Meanwhile, I collected our things from Andrew's room, fed him one last time before the journey home and enjoyed my quiet, private time with our little guy. And I told him what was going on and that our house would be a lot noisier than here but that he would be with us all the time now. It felt great and overwhelming.
The task of raising 4 seemed a bit daunting. But we knew we would make it work. And tonight was going to be the first night we would have to rotate the feedings. That was one of the few perks of having him in NICU. The nurses stayed up with him at night and we got to sleep. Boy did we take advantage of that for those 3 weeks!
But the loss of sleep didn't phase us for long. We were just so glad that we would all be together. And that we would finally get to introduce the boys to their new brother in person. They had only seen some pictures of him since children under 12 are not allowed in the NICU.
So at 9:30 tonight, we proudly carried his little infant seat into our apartment and introduced him to his 2 oldest brothers. Grandma let Samuel and Alex stay up for this special occasion and they were so excited to finally meet him. And boy were they amazed. He was so small. They both told him "hi" and giggled and fidgeted around in excitement and gently kissed him on the forehead before going to bed. He was asleep at the time. And I was amazed that we finally had our little guy at home with us.
We were a complete family, as Samuel put it. And so began the next season of our life - raising 4 beautiful boys.
It's hard to believe that it's 2012.
And today is January 7th. A normal day to everyone else. And to me, and probably me alone, it is the anniversary of the day we brought Andrew home. We didn't know it at this time 1 year ago but, when I went to visit him after work, they told me that today was the day. I was in shock. I was a bit scared and felt a twinge of uncertainty mixed with hesitancy.
He was still so small. Only a little over 6 pounds at this point. And not really any longer. Still a little dolly-like person. But he could feed by mouth around the clock and had figured out the connection between his mouth and his tummy. This amazing turn started at the beginning of the week and quickly accelerated.
The regular nurse said it is not uncommon that once they make that connection, they accelerate into feeding by mouth for every feeding. We were amazed and it turned him around completely.
I frantically called Mark and told him the good news. He grabbed an outfit, his little jumpsuit, and made arrangements for grandma to watch the boys. Meanwhile, I collected our things from Andrew's room, fed him one last time before the journey home and enjoyed my quiet, private time with our little guy. And I told him what was going on and that our house would be a lot noisier than here but that he would be with us all the time now. It felt great and overwhelming.
The task of raising 4 seemed a bit daunting. But we knew we would make it work. And tonight was going to be the first night we would have to rotate the feedings. That was one of the few perks of having him in NICU. The nurses stayed up with him at night and we got to sleep. Boy did we take advantage of that for those 3 weeks!
But the loss of sleep didn't phase us for long. We were just so glad that we would all be together. And that we would finally get to introduce the boys to their new brother in person. They had only seen some pictures of him since children under 12 are not allowed in the NICU.
So at 9:30 tonight, we proudly carried his little infant seat into our apartment and introduced him to his 2 oldest brothers. Grandma let Samuel and Alex stay up for this special occasion and they were so excited to finally meet him. And boy were they amazed. He was so small. They both told him "hi" and giggled and fidgeted around in excitement and gently kissed him on the forehead before going to bed. He was asleep at the time. And I was amazed that we finally had our little guy at home with us.
We were a complete family, as Samuel put it. And so began the next season of our life - raising 4 beautiful boys.
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