And it Starts

Cliff, Allan's dad, was sweet enough to go down to Palm Mortuary for us on Monday, to start the process and to get us the information we needed to get the burial and services started. That, I think, was the toughest part for me to do, was to actually get it started, because, for me, it was just another thing on the checklist, to start the moving on process.............I didn't want to move on. I didn't want to move. I just wanted to go back, start over, and have my baby home.

Cliff had told us we had an appointment on Tuesday to meet with the people at the mortuary, so I made sure I had her dress, shoes, bow for her hair, blanket, her stuffed animal and her picture of our family. I wasn't sure if they needed that stuff the day of our meeting or what was going to happen, really.

Allan's mom, Becky, my sister, Cassie and her husband Justin went with Allan and I to the appointment. I wanted my sister to come with us because Cassie was there when the 2 ladies that came  over earlier to talk to us about their experience with this same thing. She could remember things better than we could and could remember all of the questions that we wanted to ask or the things we wanted to make sure happened. We were so grateful to have the support we did on that day.

As soon as we got there, we were greeted by Tom. He was an older man, with gray hair and an inviting smile. He offered us waters and said that Kelly would be right with us. He walked away and then came back and said that we were going to go ahead and pick out the plot, while Kelly is finishing some things up. I think I shut down as soon as he said that. I couldn't believe where I was at, and what I was about to do. Instead of my perfect little girl coming home, and starting her life, she was coming here...........alone.

We went over to the Garden of Cherubs. That's a spot in the cemetery for babies, just like Eleanor, who just couldn't make it, and passed away before they were born. There were about 4 rows of little head stones, and about 20 wide. There were a few plots pointed out to us, one on the 3rd row, in between 2 other babies, and then 3 on the top row, next to each other. Everyone is standing there, looking at me to pick a place to bury my daughter............instead, I just stared at them. How do you make that decision? What do I care? It doesn't matter now, because she's not with me. (this was my version of a temper tantrum, haha). I'm not actually sure who picked out the plot, my hearing was just so muffled from my own thoughts whirling inside of my head, that I just couldn't snap out of it. They decided she would be buried on the 4th row, the 4th one in from the right. I just started crying. It was done...........the decision was made and it was over, almost as quickly as it started, like picking out a pair of shoes from a line up of only black flat shoes. Tom needed to write some things down, so we walked over, about 25 feet to find TC's grave. This really gave Allan comfort that his baby girl would be so close to his brother. We were all standing around TC's grave, and Allan kept saying he was so glad that she was so close to him. I just kept thinking, I really didn't care. This is sick and wrong and I don't want my baby here, like she was alive and I was going to just bring her here and leave her. It was really weird. Just a weird moment during that appointment.

Afterwards, we went inside and met Kelly. At first, her personality came off sharp and non-humorous. That couldn't have been farther from the truth. She was very sweet, and really funny. She had a sense of humor like I did, somewhat inappropriate and light hearted. It really made things easier watching her and Tom go back in forth with weird, funny banter. Just lightened things up for me. As we walked back to her office, she noticed we had the bag of items for Eleanor. She asked if those were for the baby, and my sister said yes. Kelly asked if she could take them for us and give them to the woman up front to take care of. My sister handed them over to her. I remember watching Kelly grab the bag from my sister and being mad that the way she held the bag made me so angry. She crumpled up the top of the plastic shopping bag from Deseret Book, instead of holding it by the handles like my sister had it. I had meticulously placed the items in the bag, folding them and stacking them neatly, and it seemed like it was all ruined. She handed it back to a woman that I couldn't see and told her who it was to go to, and who it was for and walked away. I was petrified. I was so worried, before this appointment, that the items in the bag would not get to my daughter. I was petrified that they would know I couldn't check on her and make sure that she was beautiful on her day, so they wouldn't even care to place the items in with her.

As we sat down in her office, they offered us some cookies. I knew my husband wouldn't be able to resist, however, cookies at a time like this seemed a little inappropriate, but maybe it works! It did. After about 5 minutes, the cookies were being munched down by everyone around me, and very much enjoying them. We started everything by Kelly telling me what was free to us, which was pretty much everything, and what would would have to pay for, the casket. Then we got down to paperwork and explaining the process to us and all of that. For days, Allan and I had been talking about days to have the service to accommodate what we wanted for Ellie. However, after finally deciding on a day, Kelly told us that she has to wait to receive the permit to bury our daughter. Summerlin Hospital has to send over the death certificate paperwork to the Health Department, and then they had to check all of their stuff and then had to issue the paperwork and then issue the permit to Palm Mortuary. We figured it would be a few more days. Turns out, it wouldn't be until next week! My heart sank. I would have to think about this for another week. And as quickly as that was told to us, and I had that thought, I thought to myself, "You know you'll be thinking about this for the rest of your life. Another week, to have the service and the burial is not a big deal. It's just not. It's ok." And after that, I was calm and it was fine and there was no problem. Everyone around me was so shocked and was asking if they could do anything to make it sooner and all of those questions you would ask, but Kelly assured them that they will be on top of the people to make sure that we are not forgotten and lost in the process and that Ellie's service would be probably next week. I was ok with it. I felt just ok about it.

After that conversation, Kelly wanted to enter in information about Allan and I, and the grandparents. It's not often that there are 3 sets of grandparents, but our children are extra special, and get to have extra love. So we started listing out Cliff and Rebecca Rogers, Wayne and Debra Dailey, and Ronald and Vicki Elder. It made me proud that she gets to have all of those people witnessing their love for her, even if it's on a silly thing like government paperwork. haha.

After all of that, and all of the laughing that was going on in the office, instead of crying and being somber, Kelly told us that she was going to get the casket ready to show us what it would look like. Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, we walked into a room, and saw a very tiny casket on the table. It had a sweet little baby blanket that covered the padding on the inside. It was a mint green blanket with little teddy bears on it, holding blocks. I thought that would be the part I cried at as well, but I didn't. I was numb to it. I just stared at it, and everyone stared at me. Maybe they were waiting for me to cry or break down or something, or maybe they were waiting for me to be worried about something or maybe they were just waiting for me to say anything. I didn't. I stood silently staring at it. Allan whispered to me, asking, "Is this ok?" I said, "Sure." I really didn't know what to say. Is there a right thing to say at that moment in time?

We went back to the room and finished up our paperwork, and then a woman brought in a small yellow piece of paper. They handed the paper to me to sign. It was a listing of what was in the bag we had given them earlier. I must have looked over that little piece of paper about 40 times before signing it. I tried to make sure I could remember what was in the bag, and then checking to make sure it was on the list. It seemed as if I would read the list and then try to remember what was in the bag, to make sure it was all there, and then I would instantly forget if an item was on the list and I would frantically look for it again. I signed it and handed it back to Kelly. She slid back the yellow portion of it to me, and it just lay there in front of me. I must have scanned it about 50 times, thinking of each item as I read it, trying to picture it in my mind.

Finally, it was time to leave. We all shook hands with Tom and Kelly, and walked out of the doors. We casually talked about going out to lunch and other plans of the day. As everyone got loaded up in the cars, Becky hugged me goodbye, just as she did with Allan. I felt like I needed to talk to her. I told her quietly, that I was very happy that she was able to be there for her birth. I was so happy that her grandma's were able to witness her birth, and how much I loved her and appreciated her. She told me how proud she was of me, and how much she loved me. She was amazed at how I handled myself, with such poise and grace. It was a sweet moment that I'm so glad I got to take with her, because I feel like my mom and I have moments a lot, not that it lessens those moments any. I cherish those dearly, but I don't get to have many with Becky. 

The day went on as usual, with visitors and outings and all of those things that keep you busy so your mind doesn't go crazy with thoughts. It was all so busy, but so fun and needed. Allan and I always feel guilty that we are doing OK. I feel like a lot of people call or come over, upset and crying, and expect us to be crying as well, or really upset as well. Like, they want us to validate their feelings. It's ok, their feelings are valid, but we just deal with it differently. Ours come in little quiet moments, or unexpected moments, not in huge tidal waves that last for days. I'm grateful for little moments. It makes those moments much shorter, and my mind is able to stay sane. I think if I was a wreck constantly and constantly somber about it, I'm not sure I would ever return to church, or want my children back at home, or eat again, or any of the things that I should be doing. I think I would end up an ugly, bitter person, that may end up making a lot of large mistakes. I keep trying to tel myself every moment of every day, "I have a choice to make. I can be angry, and resentful and not be ok. Or, I can try. I can try to find some good. I can laugh. I can allow myself to cry, and allow myself to be sad, but then allow myself to be happy afterwards. I am allowed those choices, so what choice am I going to make?" I hope people understand what choices we have made, and allow us to be happy with our decisions and let us deal with things how we are, and I think, for the most part, they are.

We are so grateful for the people around us, and the love and service that people have shown. Allan keeps saying that this has shown him that the world really is a wonderful place. There are wonderful people out there. We tend to only see the bad in the world and the negative in people, and always question the motives of others. This experience really has shown us that there are good people, and more good than bad around us. We just didn't have our eyes open large enough to see it. I am so blessed by everyone around us, and I am so amazed by their generosity. We love our families, all of them, and are so grateful for all of the work they have done for us, from babysitting for a week, to financially helping, to text messages and phone calls of love. Every act, seemingly big or small, means the world to us and has made the process that much easier.