So much loss

I have yet to share my thoughts on the death of my niece Lilly, thirteen months later and I am unable to think of her without the presence of tears, such a tiny little bundle of pink, so much love shared during such a brief life. Barbara and I were there during Emily’s labor, in fact, Barbara heard Lilly’s heartbeat long before Lilly entered this world. Emily took Barbara to a prenatal office visit, Barbara was so delighted to have heard the heartbeat, she talked to the doctor who was going to deliver Emily’s little baby girl, she understood that Lilly’s birth would be a challenge yet, like Emily, her anticipation and excitement were not thwarted. Barbara was a part of Lilly’s birth.

Two weeks ago Barbara was a part of Ryker’s death. We watched as Emily’s little baby boy took his last breaths of life. Barbara sat in one of a pair of rocking chairs that had been brought into the room; she rocked him, gently kissing his cold little head. Barbara wanted to hold him, to rock him, to tell him she loved him. Barbara wanted to be there. I wanted to run. From the moment we entered the room I struggled to keep my feet firmly planted onto the hard linoleum floor. Each breath I took felt heavier than the last. If I just stood still I would be able to remain standing. I wished in desperation that I could give him my own heart, that he could have life. Yet his was already gone. In thirteen months my sister would bury both her first and second born. The odds of having a child with a rare brain defect followed by a child with such a rare heart defect are one in one million. Almost a million other mothers spared the grief and loss of losing not one, but two of their children. Two tiny white caskets in such a short period of time.

It is much easier for me to recount a part of the experience through Barbara than myself. I too held his cold little body; I too rocked him and kissed his beautiful little head of hair. I did not want to let him out of my arms, if only I could warm his little body. Each breath carefully exhaled to provide a source of warmth.

We buried him in the frozen winter ground on Wednesday. Beside Lilly he now lies. This was my first time to her grave since we placed Lilly beneath the earth. I was angered to find no headstone, no place to leave her a summer bouquet; just a small metal stake with her name. The headstone of a carved angel should lay at her feet, at least a metal urn, perhaps a proper stone with her name, an attestation of her brief life. And now, another needed for her brother as well.