The Week After

The days following Josh's death were weird. I know it's an odd thing to say but it was a jumble of emotions and experiences that we won't forget. The main challenge for me was feeling so hollow. I felt like I was walking around in a daze. And the tears. Who knew so many tears could come out of one person? I had little to no appetite and my taste buds were numb - food had no appeal or taste to me. I lost 3 pounds in 3 days. Sleep was evading me.

What's that saying? Don't kick me when I'm down? Well, I felt like I was the butt of a cruel joke because even after my sweet baby died, I was still producing milk. It was so disheartening to me to have to pump even though my baby was gone. I would do it in his room, crying. After a few times I accepted that this was just something I had to do while I weaned my body and in a way I actually began looking forward to having to do it. It allowed me to have quiet time alone in Josh's room, feeling connected to him in a way only we shared.

That week is a blur in many ways. We had so many things to do and so many people in and out of the house, dropping by, out of town visitors, family and friends. In many ways it kept us going and was so helpful having so many people pitching in, making sure not only we were fed but our visitors were too. It actually at times felt like a big party because we had plenty of good food, alcohol, and company the few nights surrounding the funeral. My phone didn't stop between all the texts, emails, and calls I received. We did have to deal with visits and calls from the sheriff's office and child protective services so they could do their reports since Josh died while in a daycare. We also visited his daycare the day after he died - it was very helpful for us to hear his daycare lady describe to us the details of the day before and also to get some closure to visit where he passed away. His daycare lady is so strong and wonderful and we remain so thankful to her for trying to save his life. We only wish she didn't have to experience such a traumatic event.

My husband and I had to go to the funeral home and talk about what type of casket we wanted for Josh, the program we wanted, the prayer cards we wanted, and the obituary. All things that two days before we'd never dreamed we'd be talking about. Writing my own child's obituary had not been on my to-do list for that week. How things can change when we least expect it. The funeral home staff were amazing and in the midst of our sorrow, my husband and I would joke  to each other about how they are almost too understanding. They speak so calmly and slowly it's almost to the point of sounding really exaggerated. I think if we weren't so sad we would have been laughing hysterically about it.

When we went to pick out Josh's burial plot we were pleasantly surprised that the guy in charge of the cemetery was the same man who came to the hospital to give us communion the day after Josh was born. In a way it was comforting to us that this man was present as we welcomed our son into the world and was now helping us as we picked out where he would be laid to rest. We had a bit of a dilemma while picking out the plot - the plots he initially showed us were nice but I spotted a tree that was a little more secluded and in a prettier spot. Unfortunately the plots near it were taken however the cemetery guy made an "executive" decision and was able to create a new plot for Josh in front of the tree since he didn't require a full size plot. Josh was able to get the perfect spot that we wanted for his final resting place - under that tree. For some reason it just felt right to us - like the tree was protecting him and forever watching over him.

My husband and I decided we wanted to write Josh's eulogy together. I had been so completely busy all week that I hadn't had a chance to write my part. So, the night before his visitation I went up in his nursery with my lap top so I could try to write it in peace. Not long after I started a big thunderstorm came through and our power went out. Our power never goes out but that night it was out for a couple hours. I actually was able to continue working on the eulogy because I had battery power. It was a little surreal writing it with no lights on but also I think it helped me focus and feel connected to him as I wrote. And maybe it was God's way of providing me with the setting in which to write the perfect send-off for my sweet boy.

We were overwhelmed by the amount of people who attended both his visitation and funeral. From coworkers, friends, family, out of town friends, and people we've only met a few times; it was very heartwarming to have all the people we care about come and pay their respects. I had complained to my husband that I didn't think we had that many pictures of Josh but then realized as we organized them we actually have a lot. We were able to display lots of pictures of him so everyone could get a sense of how special (and cute!) he was.

There were even some funny moments the day of Josh's funeral.  Of course we couldn't find my 5 year old Ben's nice shoe - we had one but not the other. So, as is typical of Ben since he marches to the beat of his own drummer, he wore sneakers with his suit to the service. Prior to that week I probably would have been stressing about it, but I had a whole new perspective by then. Who cares what shoes he wore to his brother's funeral? On the way to the church we were talking to the kids about bringing up the gifts. We wanted them to do it but didn't want to put pressure on them if they didn't want to. At first Ben said he didn't want to (at my sister's wedding last fall he got stage fright when it was his turn to walk down the aisle) so we discussed maybe having Jake (my 8 year old) and a couple of his friends do it. After a minute Ben says, "Okay, I'm in!". The way he said it was hysterical. We were so proud of him for stepping up and participating in Josh's mass. Another funny thing was driving from the church to the cemetery. There was some bike event with tons of people biking in funny hats and costumes. So we have this mass of funny looking bikers having to stop their ride to allow the procession through. Totally random.

It was humbling to see the long line of cars driving from the church to the cemetery. At the entrance of the cemetery a police officer stood with his hand over his heart. That was extremely touching to me. Perhaps they do that for every funeral but it made me feel good and was an outward display of how special Josh was.

Although that week after Josh died was extremely hard and painful, it was also very special. Having family here helping take care of the kids, taking care of the food, folding laundry, and doing numerous other mundane tasks without batting an eye was a testament to the love we all have for each other. My sister playing with my hair and rubbing my shoulders, my friend bringing me cosmo mix and cleaning my bathroom because she knew we had people coming over, my mom getting in an argument with the pharmacy because there was an issue with the script and she refused to leave without getting a pill since she knew I needed something to help me sleep. My mother in law crying with me, my father in law taking the car seat and stroller out of my van because I couldn't bear to do it. Everyone surrounded us with love and support and I truly believe that is what kept us going.

The day after the funeral we decided was the second worst day of our lives. Everyone had left the night before and reality smacked us in the face. We had been able to distract ourselves with all the activity and now those distractions were gone. The grief we felt that day was awful - I remember texting my sister in law saying "I'm not sure how we are going to be able to do this." The day dragged on forever - and by then my kids had been home for a week, completely out of their routine, and completely getting on one another's nerves. All I wanted to do was to curl up and cry all day but I couldn't. I forced myself to go outside while the kids played and we actually all went to the pool just to get out of the house. However the pool was just another reminder to us because just the week before Josh had been with us when we were there. We realized that this was our new reality - everything we did from then on would be a "first" without Josh. That night at dinner was probably the hardest "first" for us. Normally we all hold hands and say grace before dinner with Josh right there with us. Not having him there for that first dinner together since his death was so upsetting and we both cried through the prayer. Our table for so long had felt incomplete before we had him and once he was with us our family felt whole. Not having him there felt (and still feels) completely wrong - like there was this invisible hole now that will never be filled. We pray to Josh now every night at dinner which makes us feel like he is with us on some level.

That week was so, so hard but also showed us the goodness in people. So many people inconvenienced their busy lives to come be with us, cry with us, and show their love for us. We feel so blessed to be surrounded by such wonderful people as we know not everyone is so lucky. Our burden was lessened by all the support we got (and still are) getting. My only regret is Josh will never have a chance to grow up and get to know all these great people in our lives. But I guess he actually is, just while he's up in heaven. Mommy loves you Josh!