Sadness

I've added a new song to my playlist--I Will Carry You. Songwriters amaze me. There are some songs out there that touch the very soul of my existence. This is one of them. It often makes me wonder how the writers know what I'm going through, but I guess such is the human condition that we are bound to find others who are going through the same thoughts and feelings that we go through. (I've found mine on the trisomy18.org community board.)

I can't listen to this song without choking up. I cry out of sadness but also because there is such beauty in knowing that God is going to take care of Lily when she reaches Heaven, which the singer proclaims.

But there is more to my sadness. Dave and I stepped out of our comfort zones and visited the funeral home the other day to make funeral arrangements in the event Lily doesn't make it. I was crying before we even stepped through the door. It's such an odd thing, making these arrangements for your own child. Never in my life did I think I would have to do this for a baby.

I'm comforted that this funeral home will treat her as if she is a part of their own family. The director himself assured me that he would be the one handling her, and he gave me his promise. They are going to take care of us. We've decided not to have a viewing. That's a little too much. Dave suggested not having one, but the more I think about it, the more I realize I don't want to remember her that way. We're just going to keep it simple and have a small graveside service. She will be buried in the little church cemetery where my nana is buried. There's one angel who will take care of her.

Choosing the casket has been all up to me. Dave doesn't want to do that. I totally respect his need not to help. So I sat yesterday with the brochure in hand and looked at caskets. This was not a task I wanted to do alone. Not because I needed someone else's strength, but because I needed someone to assure me that I picked the perfect one for our little girl. Then there was the thought of what the casket represents. It's so hard to stay strong when you're imagining the finality the closing lid brings. That visit has put the weight of sadness back on my shoulders. Poor Lily. I hate that she feels this.