An Emotional Week

Last Monday, Sept 10th, was my birthday. It was also the day that another baby boy with anencephaly was born- Amalya Nathaniel.  We and Amalya's parents have the same doctor, and we got to know the family a bit through our shared situation.  Little Amalya lived for about 80 minutes, and lovingly passed away in his parents' arms.  I was full of emotions that day, watching Facebook closely for updates and pictures.  The beautiful family felt their little Amalya was an absolute blessing, a "Work of the Lord," despite his short life here on Earth.  I was so happy watching this beautiful family celebrate Amalya's life, but had a very heavy heart at the same time, knowing that my own dear baby's time was soon to come.

Skip ahead to Thursday and Friday...  watching the scene unfold with little Amalya made me feel like it was time to take care of some business.  I bit the bullet, and decided to find out what I could about local funeral services, cemeteries, etc.  I knew it was going to be difficult, but didn't know how difficult until I started making phone calls and relating our situation, over and over.  Basically, I sobbed the whole day away.

On Sunday, we went to the funeral service for little Amalya.  As we were walking up to the church where it was being held, I felt at peace and pretty much in control.  I thought it was going to be ok.  Once we stepped into the receiving line, however, my head began to spin and I felt like I might pass out.  All at once, this scene was me- my baby, my guests. I was the mom who just gave birth.  I felt like it was a prequel- a deja vu in reverse.

I choked back a loud sob, and almost ran back to the car.  Instead, I ran to the bathroom.  I wanted to stay and join in celebrating this baby's life.  After calming down a bit, I made it through the line and the rest of the service without making too much of a scene.  The funeral service was definitely beautiful.  It was such a witness of faith and belief in God's plan for each one of our lives.  It was truly a beautiful experience and we felt very blessed to be there, despite the deep emotions it evoked.

On Monday, I decided to go and check out the cemetery recommended by our local Church and funeral homes.  It was a lovely cool day, and that made me happy.  I drove around and around the cemetery looking for the "baby garden," section, as they called it.  I thought it would just stand out as obvious, but I drove around and around and I couldn't locate it.  Finally, I pulled over and cheerfully asked one of the workers for directions to the baby garden.  He said, "Well, there are a couple of different ones.  Do you know which one the baby you're looking for is buried in?"  I shook my head no.  Then he said, "Hmm.. do you know how long ago the baby was buried?"  The second question took me completely by surprise.  I couldn't answer; I just automatically burst into tears.  Finally I shook my head and pointed to my bulging abdomen.  The man felt terrible, and was so sorry for asking.  He tried to explain where to go, but I was such a mess by that point, he practically walked me to the area so I could get there.  Finally, at the baby garden, I felt at peace again.  I was sad to see so many little plaques, but it made me happy for my faith and the hope that we will be able to meet our loved ones again some day.  I started to read the names and birth dates of some of the little babies buried there.  I felt like it would be a fitting place for our little Joey, surrounded by so many welcoming little friends.