Friday, April 22, 2016

Walking Away

The week of August 17th to 22nd is a blur. After getting home on the 17th, all I remember is crying a lot. Every time I did finally fall asleep I would wake up forgetting for a brief moment that I was no longer pregnant and the pain would start anew. I quickly learned about the triggers of grief, which there were and still are a lot of.

On the 18th we started planning Bryton’s service and celebrated our 3rd Childs 7th birthday. Switching from funeral mode to birthday mode felt unreal but we did it. As the week went on I started to feel physically worse and was diagnosed with postpartum preeclampsia. A day after this I was diagnoses with a prolapsed uterus and reminded to sit down and rest. I was told I had stay down just like I would be if my baby was home with me alive and well. This meant I could not do all of the funeral planning or errands I wanted to run on my own. I had to let others pickup where I was falling short.

As Bryton’s mother, there were so many things I wanted to do myself for her service and I couldn’t. It was frustrating but in the end everything turned out. On May 22nd we buried our daughter. We started off that morning planning to dress our daughter for her services ourselves, but in the end she was too fragile, so her socks, shoes, and bow are all we got to add ourselves. We never got to dress our daughter in this lifetime.

We had been being told all week that Bryton did not look good and they ended up not being able to embalm her. As a result we had not planned a viewing. But last minute, right before we placed her in her casket, Chris and I decided that we would warn our family and bring the casket out opened just for a short while before we said the family prayer and headed to the cemetery. The mortician was hesitant to have us do this, but we agreed he could stand close by Bryton making sure no one disturbed her in her very fragile state.

Chris and I were instructed to each take a side of Bryton’s little casket and carry her out ourselves. I didn’t want to do it, as I knew I would break, but I did. As we sat her down I wanted to run away and fall apart. But again I didn’t. I stayed and visited with family and watched our kids as they showed off their baby sister to their cousins. I can’t remember the order but I believe Chris said a few words; my step dad gave the family prayer and then we kissed Bryton one last time and closed the casket.

As we arrived at the cemetery I remember everything looking ultra green and beautiful. I felt like I was in a dream and nothing was real. Our baby did not die and we were not really about to bury her body and walk away. But it was real, she did die and we did have to bury her and walk away. The service was short and sweet and everything went as planned thanks to our family and friends. I once heard you won’t remember everyone who attended your wedding but you will remember everyone who attends a funeral of your loved one. It is true. We are so very for grateful for everyone who postponed their Memorial Day plans to attend Bryton’s service.
At the luncheon afterward I had to be reminded to eat and sit down. I just wanted to personally make sure every person there knew how grateful we were to see them and have their support. I didn’t really care to eat as I still could not taste food. I did as I was told and sat down and attempted to eat.

After the luncheon Chris and I had to go back to the mortuary and get Bryton’s things. It was not a place we were in a hurry to go back too, even though we had been there just this morning. Once we were home we were mentally and physically drained. We were grateful our kids had left to have sleepovers with their cousin’s so that we could have some quiet time alone together. Our dear friend was sweet enough to drop off a weekend package full of treats and videos so that we could just retreat into our home and not leave.

As the day ended I was exhausted but could not sleep. Life was moving in slow motion. We are no longer the same people we were just 7 days earlier. We had our 5th child, a daughter, and had nothing to show for it but a childless nursery full of things that were Bryton’s that she would never use. Life was not supposed to go this way, but it did. 

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