No.

Gwen.

I'm sorry about -

I have disconnected your ashes from you. I fight in my head with wanting to keep them near... I don't even know what is "holding"...well, the ashes, right now.

I went to the funeral home with Daddy. And I left. I turned and left when I saw them walk to us in the dingy old office with a shopping bag. It was completely screwed up. A shopping bag. It was at least, a "funeral-themed" shopping bag - blue with a angel or a bird or something. But it was a bag you would carry around the mall with a new pair or shoes inside.

I didn't know what to expect when we went to...I don't know, I find it hard to say "pick you up" or "get you" or "retrieve your remains." ... so I'll just say I didn't know what to expect when we went back to the funeral home that day, because I didn't spend a millisecond thinking about it ahead of time. They didn't tell us anything about "that part" so it was all blank. No worries on my part there.

We were just following along a task list. Doing what was expected. They called to tell us to come. We, the clients, did our part.

Anyway - that did it. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered what they brought out...shopping bag or box of gold...

But your mommy turned on her heals and left your poor daddy to be the strong one.

Then I let him put the blue bag in our basement. I guess we were both disconnected. Neither of us seemed to think anything wrong about it. Yet, I don't think I ever even had you down there while you were here with me. But, this was just a shopping bag with something we had to pick up. My child and that bag have nothing to do with each other...

Tonite - after a fairly good day (of what I realize now was only just a fun refuge of denial - which, by the way, is not an "stage" or "aspect" of grief and its circular-pattern forward - but rather a coping mechanism - an escape from all the other real, actualities of grief, of the hell of loss... I'm holding you tight and close with both arms and time is the cruel thing prying my arms open - ha, Gwen, can you believe some like to call that "healing" ...anyway, all the while I know you are not there. But I'm still holding you. I have to. You are my baby. You are my child.)

Tonite I was shattered from my haven of survivalist-denial that I didn't know I was in (you see, it hides as some version of "acceptance" - not the one they talk about that happens later in this "course of grief," which by the way, never really happens anyway, or, at least is not what people "on the other side" think it is... but, today's "acceptance/denial" that I speak of was a confident "I will deal with this and I will focus more on the connection I still have and all that remains..." sneaky little voice in my head. And today, I bought it - I had to. Survival. Denial not so cleverly disguised as a type of a sort of "acceptance-hiatus").
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It started off simply enough.

I got a phone call from my other life. I used to be an art teacher. I still had a needed supply in my possession, and could she pick it up in the morning. Sure, no problem I know right where it is... (it's in the basement.)

I put it off all night. I knew why.

So I asked Myers even as I hate myself for having requested it earlier - did he move the bag or was it still in plain sight?

He responded, "Gwen's ashes are moved to another spot."

Hearing your name in that sentence physically ripped through me... the sudden connection in my head that this child I carry in my heart and that bag and what is inside are one and the same (or is what was of that sweet little body, actually, that baby I held all night long, every single night after we left the hospital).

Ripped.

The most awful feelings and energy are flying around inside me now...and I want to go running and screaming through the streets... because I can't handle this.

I held you. I loved you. I love you still... I don't want this for you...and that, that is in our basement shouldn't be down there... how could we have put the blue bag, there? and I am so sorry and ashamed - but I can't handle it yet.

No. I'm still looking for you. You here. And that can't be... because then, you aren't.

--

I went down there to get the supplies. I forgot about all the pictures from the beautiful service (yes, your sweet service...where we seemed to inspire the world that they too could loose a baby and maybe be okay, because look at us...we were able to stand up and speak.) The pictures are just laying on the tables where all my old teaching stuff is strewn about.

I saw the little lamb blanket which we also displayed at the service. I barely got to use it with you - I was saving it for your hospital stays...so I didn't pull it out much besides getting a picture of the blanket with you. It was a gift from Aunt Nelly and Uncle Bob...I had to get a picture. Now it is just that blanket who never was needed in the end...whos assignment was canceled. I can't even really look at it and remember it and you... it never served its purpose. That damn blanket doesn't offer a memory that I can cling to... it's just another thing that was supposed to...

Yea. Plans.

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Gwen. I love you. Lillian will know you. She still remembers enough and I'm so grateful for that. This week I was even strong enough to put your photo (or desperate enough to make sure Lil knows your face as well as I do) - I put up the one of the two of you, in her room with all the family photos. Marie, you are there too... the recent one from your visit last summer (you've always been there, but I traded up. I needed a more recent shot).

Lillian, I can tell - she is sad that she never quite got to figure out what the whole "big sister" thing was all about. I'm glad I got her to say "I love you" once - even it was awfully forced outta her. She is two...and not a little bit stubborn. But I know that she will love you with us. We'll talk often about how happy we are for having you in our life. She won't always see our tears. But, I don't mind letting her know how much I love my babies.

--
Gwyneth. You are loved. Marie - you know it!
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And while I'm here...I've been needing to post more about some more items for my burn pile. I found out that UVA sent us a duplicate letter, exactly the same regarding the autopsy "of my loved one" the day before I blogged and quoted the first mailing. With the same August "due-date". What in the &*$#!&* is up with that? Myers hid it - what a sweet guy...he's so awesome. When I told him about my blog post and the subject matter he disclosed to me the details.

Then after I couldn't imagine having anymore to say on the subject, the next day - the very next day, Anthem sent us a mailing. It was a brochure-like thing, pictures and chart and all that jazz - inquiring "is your baby up-to date on all her shots?"

Anthem. You, as far as I know, have not returned our call. Thanks. I know my husband left you a slightly-heated message about needing to get your ducks in a row and something to the tune of, "in the name of GOD what is wrong with you people?" Could you maybe call back - to let us know you got the message at least?

And, really. Anthem. No. I'm sure my baby is NOT up-to-date on her shots. Thanks for the reminder. And seriously - you paid for her above for-mentioned autopsy - the thing that included, as I understand, a microscopic analysis no less. How did you miss that?

The only thing I can say is there will be a burn pile. It probably won't happen for a while - it is not easy going through this kind of paper work to sort the stuff I want to see go up in flames from the items I do find important to save. But, I really, really hope this is it - that I do not have anymore new paperwork to torch.

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And as I kindly tell myself to get the heck off of here so I can get some rest - I can't help but notice the irony. I can't seem to deal with the reality in the shopping bag yet I'm expecting impersonal institutions to acknowledge she is gone.

Maybe that is really the problem... I'm not so much offended as I am upset at being fed information I don't want, reminders that she is gone - these mailings aren't really helping me stay in my little oasis where I can, in the end figure out how this didn't really happen. That goes for you too Marie - you are not off the hook there either. When I get a chance I know I can go grab your arms and pull you back up...

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(I never said there logic here where I am. I even know where I am at the moment. Hmmmm. Can I even be "in denial" if I call it? Please, I hope so. The pain is too much. It is too much.

I am not really waiting to hear the results of an autopsy. No - who said that? Where in the world did you hear that.

No. Look. See? I just posted some photos of Gwen on her blog...I haven't been there in a while, two kids you know...and she is a "hold me" baby. But, it was time for pictures. So many people prayed her along during her birth and surgery. I want everyone to see how she is growing - this miracle baby that they all prayed for... See:

Gwen - posted on May 13

See how beautiful she is...any day now she is going to smile...her face brightens up, she smiles with her face and so soon we are going to see her really grin, that sweet little mouth giving us a smile, letting us know, she's our happy little baby...

What's this talk about some bag? A blue bag with handles is something you carry around the mall, with a pair of new shoes in it or something... we have a baby named Gwenyth, not a blue bag somewhere...

"She's a tiny little baby" says Lil. She says it all the time and touches her with one finger and says "I touched her" - and Lil can barely wait for her little sister to do more - she really wants her walking and talking, but I think she'll be really pleased just to see her smile and laugh...to see that she can make her baby sis smile and laugh. I think she'll love it. I can't wait to see...)