Boil it all down to three small words
Yesterday at the support group we talked about things we put aside and put off. For me it was the gravestone. For all the grieving I did, for all the ways I actively jumped in and tackled things, we still have not gotten a gravestone. Once we had driven to a place, but it was a weekend and they were closed. We drove away and never went back. Too busy, we said, can’t find the time. Which, when I look at it, is more or less bullshit. We just felt more comfortable putting it off.
Today I had time before work and among my errands I drove myself to the monument place. It was quiet. I let myself in and no one was there. I almost turned and left, but I heard a noise… the owner was there, in the back. I hadn’t thought to bring the paperwork from the cemetary that gave instructions for headstones… thankfully he was able to look it up in his book. 14″ by 8″ – that is all we are allowed. That means no design on the corner, and very limited space for wording. I got a price and left.
And now I’m at home, looking up epitaphs for babies and realizing why I’ve been putting this off for so long. It is gutwrenching, heartstopping. I am tearing up at these verses – and not much makes me tear up anymore. Many are lovely. But how in the hell are we supposed to choose?
I was never a fan of graveyards before. I didn’t understand it at all. Why would you want to be buried in the dirt? And all those headstones, it was just creepy. And then Devin died and as I sat in the hospital bed, still pregnant but making arrangements, I suddenly understood. It is a form of permanence. It is a way of inscribing his name on a great wall that hundreds, thousands of people will see… that, many many years after I have gone, people will look at his grave and know that he existed, that he was loved, that he is missed.
It is that thought that holds me motionless now, frozen in indecision. What do I want to tell the world about my son, about his life and death and the hole that exists in our family, that can be said in just three or four words? Is that even possible?
Etched into stone for the world to read. I search for the words I want to make so permanent… but I fear I may not ever find them. Maybe we just have to choose something that seems close enough.
I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine the heartbreak that you are going through. I can’t imagine having to make that kind of decision.
there is nothing more unnatural than a parent having to bury a child. i can’t even begin to imagine how you are feeling. i wish i could give you the words you were searching for. i wish i could take all your pain away.
I think this is why we did the grave plaque straight away. Had I stopped to think too much about it, I’d be where you are now, totally lost. It was one of those things that got done very early on, while I was still very much in autopilot mode. Now I’m not sure I’m totally happy with it, but I think back, and I can’t question any decisions I made in those early weeks. It was all done on gut and feel. I also used to hate cemeteries, but like you I get it more now. And for me the choice to bury seemed easier than to cremate. I could not fathom turning her body to ash. But lets face it. Both choices suck. We, as parents, shouldn’t have to do either.
Lots of love to you Natalie.
How about the verse that was brought up on the JM stillbirth forum recently? “If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.”
The first thing I thought of was the quote at the top of this blog, but I don’t know if you have enough room on the stone for that.
I also wanted to tell you, that I think it is natural almost in a way to put this off…. my friend whose daughter died a few days after birth… well they literally took years to get her a headstone. It was just something that was too hard for them, that made it final and permanent.
“He was …. and always will be, our beautiful boy.”
xo
*hug*
Maybe it’s because I used to write poetry, but I always see depth in only a few words. In this case? I imagine you can capture almost everything in one word.
“Loved.”
I am so sorry that you have to make this choice. I wish I could make that pain go away.
xxx
I love the “If love could have saved you…” quote. I’m sorry you are having to figure all this out. We cremated our son and didn’t even think at the time (1 day after he died) to put a nice saying on the urn. It is engraved with his name and birthday…er…deathday? I hate it, I don’t even know what to call it. I guess his stillbirth day. :(
I was thinking the same thing as serenity.
(HUGS) honey
I was going to suggest the very simple “You are loved.” It seems like the perfect way to show that he will always be in your heart.
Oh, sweetie, until I read this, I had never thought about that idea that the person is permanently marked, remembered, years after those who knew him are gone. I too had never truly gotten graveyards until this post.
Thinking of the love thing and your quote at the top of this blog… “Loved beyond words” popped into my head.
Have been following your blog with interest.
I am fascinated with self-absorbed people.
Hence my following.
I understand what you are going through.
AND you are going through this process with a lot of drama.
I have been where you are – but 20 years ago when the science was much less precise. I did it all, then finally decided to opt for sanity instead of the pursuit of a baby.
Still childless – but it’s ok. Life is good anyway!
Just an FYI – awful doesn’t have an e.
AND not having a biological baby – not the worst thing that can happen. Sometimes it’s the BEST thing!
Keep an open mind.
respectfully, cjk
Christine – Everyone deals with their life and their circumstance differently. Many people choose (or are forced to) live without a biological child. That’s cool. I’m glad you were able to find peace. If my life leads me down that path, I hope I am able to find it too.
I do write dramatically, I fully admit that. I really like to tap into the emotion when I write. It’s how I process it and let it go. Some people appreciate the style, some people don’t.
I find it interesting that you chose to comment on this particular post, as it isn’t about infertility or the struggle for a biological child or any of that… it is about dealing with grief and the loss of my son. Which are connected, of course, but are two totally different things.
Also please note that this blog is of course all about me – I find it rather rude to write about other people!
It is not self-absorbed to wear your heart on your sleeve and open your experiences to others going through the same thing.
An FYI to Christine, it is not “respectfully” if you chose to come to someone’s blog only to insult them & tell them how they feel is wrong. I’m glad you were able to “opt for sanity,” perhaps if you had presented your story in a more respectful light (and not done so through the anonymity of the internet, nice job not leaving an email address) more people could gather from you what the women here get from Nat.
Oh, and don’t comment on a misspelling of a word if you can’t even put together a decent sentence.
Christine, what a completely insensitive and horribly mean thing to post. You say you know what Nat is dealing with and yet you post this. Obviously you do not know. Have you ever lost a child? Have you ever held your child lifeless in your arms and then had to give him to another person so he could be prepared and buried? If so, you have completely lost your mind to speak like this. But I can’t believe a mother who has been through what Nat is going through would write something so completely mean spirited. Get a life and stop feeing off others.
And Nat, I’m so sorry you even have to think of what to say on your sweet, beautiful boy’s headstone. Bryan Luke’s just reads “Our Angel Baby Boy” since that’s what we have always called him (even before he was born). But I love the idea of a saying.
seriously, christine?
i agree with serenity.
he was, and is, loved. hugs to you.
Wow, 1000 extra troll points to Christine for picking one of the very least appropriate posts on this entire blog to make a condescending comment about. I’d say the height of self-absorption is thinking your opinion on someone else’s life matters in the least.
Hi Nat,
Thank you for sharing your journey…
I think that whatever you choose will be ‘just right’ – you have a beautiful way with words.
I really like the ‘if love could have saved you’ one, it seems a good fit with the love you describe so movingly.
If only… if only you never had to be in this position.
If only!
Best wishes with this incredibly difficult decision.
I knew there was a reason my mother opted not to spell my name with a ‘C’. SERIOUSLY??? I have to say it again…SERIOUSLY??? I just cannot wrap my head around why someone would choose to be so incredibly rude and insensitive…man what a horrible life she must lead to want to crash down on someone in what is one if not the most difficult thing a parent can go through. Dramatic doesn’t even begin to cover the feelings I had/have when we lost our first son. Maybe she should have had a blog or a good therapist because obviously all of her anger and anguish is being taken out on you Nat.
Ok…breathing deep…we did the headstone right away with just a name and date…I needed to get it done at the time as I thought it would help me heal to go to a place where I could see his name…like a finality I guess to help me with the reality of the situation. But everyone is different. I do wish I would have taken the time to have something more personal but I probably would have been analyzing that to death and at that time I had no words just tears.
I really like the if love could have saved you verse.
HUGS to you Natalie…keep on blogging and keep on living. You know you have so much love and support here.
Nat, I’m sorry that you have to deal with this. :hugs:
Kelly
Why not write what you feel? Just making a suggestion something liked “Loved, cherished and missed”
My first thought was just one word “loved”.
I feel for you hun and I always tear up when reading about Devin’s loss. *hugs to both of you*
First off – Christine – GLAD you are not a mom – because you would have one screwed up child with your LACK of empathy and understanding. Harpy shrew. GAH.
And secondly – Nat – what about something you said in your post above?
You were here and you were loved.
Love and hugs to you darling.
Nat I don’t want to put drama on your blog but I just want to say this to “Christine”:
I think it says a lot more about you to spend your time reading a blog that you claim not to care about beyond being ‘fascinated with self absorbed people’. Even when I have loads of time on my hands, I am not spending it on the internet looking for people who get my blood pressure rising so that I may troll them.
Whatever your experience was, it isn’t going to be the same for everybody and something is obviously off with you if you are out there trolling blogs about loss & infertility and claiming that everybody needs to be okay with the crap life has handed them b/c, oh you were!
In case you haven’t been following this blog long, it has always been about Natalie and her journey. Isn’t that what a personal blog is about? Yourself? It is the most ridiculous thing ever to go into somebody’s personal space and then tell them that they are self absorbed. Nobody is forcing you to read her personal thoughts and dealings.
The majority of us are here because we are her friends and are here to love and support her. I hope you find that in your own life so you don’t have to tear down others to make yourself feel better.
Christine-
I am a licensed certified psychotherapist. I am extremely concerned with your comment. It displays a clear lack of empathy as well as an obvious roadblock in your own healing process. It is a red flag concerning your emotional maturity when you take your own tragic life experiences and use them to judge the experiences and coping skills of others. I know that the anonymity of the internet makes all individuals more brazen in their judgement of others, but the fact that you very loudly imply that you handled your circumstances correctly and appropriately and that she handled very similar circumstances incorrectly inappropriately makes clear that not only do you have a serious defect in your empathy skills, but that you have not in fact dealt with your own issues apprpriately at all. I strongly suggest that you enter some form of psychological counseling. If you are currently in counseling, I would recommend you explore the possibility of switching counselors. The following website is a good resource for both options: http://www.nami.org.
On a different note, you must be rather new to the internet, because spelling mistakes are quite common. If you think it is a good idea to criticize every blogger who makes a spelling mistake, you have chosen to fill all that childless free time you have in a very odd (and frankly, very concerning) way.
Rock on Rebecca!
I second everyone elses comments to the horrible person Christine!
Nat, you know that we all care about you as a friend. Do not listen to people who want to be hateful. We are all better than that. You just keep being yourself, we all love reading your blog that of course is all about you!
With love.
Unlurking to suggest: ‘If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane, we’d walk right up to heaven and bring you back again.’
you are right, it is hardly possible to sum up all those sentiments in 3 or 4 words. I like your close enough attitude.
and omg what the f*ck is up with Christine? She sounds like quite the loon.
Don’t feed the trolls.
*hugs*
:hugs:
Well sayd(said lol) Rebecca!
I really like the quote at the top of the blog too, but it might be too long. Emily’s quote would be a good one too. I am so sorry Natalie. I know that this might feel like opening the wound just a bit more.
And insensitive people can just F*ck off.
Christine: you amaze me. Not having a biological child could be the best thing? Really? So, you must be one of those people that say, “it was for the best.” Exactly, what is that? That Natalie’s child is not here? That my three children are not here? You are making this seem like it’s almost an obsession to be pregnant, to be a mom. No, lady, it’s not an obsession and we are not self-absorbed. We have to face our grief everyday and believe that one day we will have our child. Honestly, I don’t believe you went through the same thing. My brother was still born 40 years ago. My mom and dad still remember him and visit his grave. The grief, although of course less now, will always be there. I am pregnant now, but the sadness over the ones I have lost will always be there…even when I have a baby in my arms.
oh and Kt: That is probably one of my favorite quotes. :)
I am sure you’ll come up with the right words- don’t strive for perfection. If I were doing a headstone (which I can’t because Sally Ann was creamated), I would have written, “a lifetime of love” or something like that.
I don’t think you would, but pay no mind to the ignorant judgemental people who stop by.