Continuing...
We spent our first night home alone, just Jake, Rory and I, no baby to hold or wake up to crying. The things you dread most about having a newborn (the sleepless nights, constant feedings, and changing a million diapers) you find yourself begging for if it means holding your lost child. I spent the first night numb, not sure how to look at Rory or be her mom. Thankfully she was tired and didn't require a ton of attention and mostly laid next to me.
Jake and I spent the next few hours talking about everything that just happened. I had never seen him so confused. Something you have to understand about him is that he is not emotionally expressive, he is a logical, realistic man. Looking at him in his recliner I saw a broken father that didn't know how to miss his daughter. I asked him to tell me what he was thinking, all Jake could say was "I was really looking forward to having her, I was excited.."
We didn't say anything else the rest of the night.
The next morning we woke up and once again our new reality hit. We laid in bed and let the silence consume us. In two hours we were going to have to meet with the funeral home and plan Izzie's ceremony and make decisions most don't have to make for another 20some years.
We put our strong faces on and faced the day smiling, laughing, pretending to be normal.
On our way to the funeral home I got a call from the hospital notifying me that Izzie would be on her way to a hospital in Milwaukee for her autopsy. Little did I know the drama that would come with her being sent there. (More on that later)
At the funeral home we made the arrangements, picked out her casket, songs, flowers, but we didn't have anywhere to bury her. I don't think most people know where they are going to be buried in their twenties, well Jake and I now do. We made an appointment at a local cemetery to pick out our graves.
FUNNY STORY: Jake and I use humor to cope. This might seem totally wrong to some people. Anyhow, when we were discussing where to bury Izzie, we decided that we wanted to be at a cemetery where all our family could eventually be together, which meant a public cemetery. Well, Jake casually mentions that we need to find a couple plots in the furthest back corner away from everyone. I laugh and ask why, and he says "choosing our plot is like choosing a seat in a classroom and I like to sit in the furthest back corner away from everyone." Not a hilarious story, but it lightened the mood.
At the cemetery we did get a couple plots in a back corner that won't be expanded on.
The next day was a shopping day. I had to get outfits for everyone including myself and Izzie. My mom, friend Ashley, and I left my house and headed to the store. Another friend works there and I told her to just pick clothes for me. The first outfit was the only one I put on, thankfully it fit.
I do ok, even now, in public. I don't want people thinking I am weak and I don't want strangers asking me a million questions, I don't need pity. This day, I did not do well. I literally put the shirt on and felt my breast start leaking. My milk chose that moment to make its appearance - fantastic. Then, I looked at myself in the mirror and said "this is what I will be wearing when I bury my daughter. My daughter died. My child, Isabel." I sobbed. I keep writing that it's an impossible feeling, it's impossible to describe and it is. There is no word, in any language (I looked) to describe the heavy loss of your own child. If you find some word, please pass it on to me.
If I thought picking out my own outfit was difficult, picking out Izzie's outfit was like the ninth circle of hell in Dante's world. This led to another breakdown in Kohl's, looking like a crazy person leaning on a shelf crying holding baby clothes. I'm allowed a couple more jars of crazy juice, I think.
The morning of the funeral I woke up and prayed for strength. I have always had faith, losing her ironically, only made that faith stronger. I think it had to because I have to believe something. I choose to believe that God took her from me because she was meant for something more, something she could do here with us. I have to trust that she is being held and loved by our loved ones in heaven. If I don't believe that, than where is my little girl? Surely more than "6 feet under", surely her pure spirit was meant for more, right?
My house on this day had this heaviness about it, as I watched everyone, no one knew how to approach me, no one knew how to talk to each other even. We are a close family and somehow this morning we all seemed wrapped up in our own thoughts.
When we arrived at the funeral home some people were already there - my close friend Kim and her mom, and Jake's Grandparents. I cannot even begin to explain what these people mean to me, I wouldn't have made it through the doors of that place if they weren't there. The funeral coordinators greeted us and brought us to our little girl who was waiting for us, dressed to impressed with her big teal bow. She was even more beautiful than I remember, she was perfect. A few people had gifts for Izzie, her great grandma (Jake's grandma) knitted her a blanket (that matched the teal - wasn't even planned) and we swaddled her in that. I have a necklace for her and I, it's Mizpah a verse from the bible that says: "May the LORD keep watch between you and me when we are away from each other." She has half and I have the other, we both wear them everyday. Rory gave her a locket that Izzie now holds forever that says "sisters forever". My mom, her and I got her a 3 generation bracelet, says "grandmother, mother, daughter". Jake left her a daddy's princess onesie and something special from him wrapped inside.
Over 50 people came to say "hello" and "goodbye" to Izzie, some went up and talked to her, others hung back and said silent prayers. It was one of the longest almost hour of my life. I wanted to just pick her up and hold her close like a newborn should be held and loved. I wanted a miracle. Desperate for that miracle I stayed away from her and just watched others be near her. At ten to 1pm we had to close her casket. The funeral coordinators walked us into the garage and let us pay our respects. This was the last time we would ever see Izzie in this life, she's our angel now. Accepting that and trying to say good bye at the same time is impossible.
The funeral service opened with "Amazing Grace" and our priest begun his blessings and prayers. Standard Catholic funeral. We went to the cemetery afterwards and drove to the "back of the classroom" to Izzie's final resting place. Jake and I of course stood up close to her, everyone else surrounded us. We debated if it was like a circle of strength or just weird feeling. We aren't used to being the centers of attention like this, so we never expected to have so many people there to help keep us together.
We chose to stay with Izzie as she was buried, but first we had to walk back to the car while the funeral directors dismissed everyone. I think my legs basically stopped working walking back to the car. I remember just leaning completely on Jake. People walked over to us to say good bye, it was mostly quick good byes until these 4 girls came up: Kim, Andrea, Becky and Megan. They were all crying. 3 of these ladies I have only known a short time and met through Kim, but they have the biggest hearts of almost anyone I know. They picked me right up and knew how to make me smile while we all cried. Pretty sure I fell in love with all of them right then. You never know who's going to be there for you until a life changing event (good or bad) happens.
Everyone was gone. We walked back over to Izzie. We heard the bobcat driving over with a bucket scoop and started laughing hysterically. The driver of the bobcat or "grave digger" (original nickname, I know) as we called him thought we were nuts. It didn't take long for her casket to be covered and grave to fill. Once again, the laughter stopped and that heaviness took over.
This is how we physically said good bye to Miss Izzie. Everyday now we tell her "good morning" and "good night", I talk to her while I'm driving in the car, or holding Rory while she sleeps, and countless other moments. I'm fairly certain Jake does too.
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