The Sweetest of Goodbyes

Today was the day I had been dreading for the past 3 weeks.

Ever since I gave birth to my sleeping baby at almost 5 months pregnant, I have been both longing for and dreading the day I would say Goodbye.

After the birth, we were advised by the hospital that they would be arranging a simple cremation service and we would be notified by post when it would be. It took almost 2 weeks for the letter to come through and I worried that they would forget to notify me of the time/date to attend. 

I needn't have worried though as it turned up eventually, advising us that the cremation service would be carried out at Streetly Crematorium on Tuesday 12th December at 9.15am.

The roads have been awash with snow and ice the past few days after a big frosty downfall leaving all schools around the area closed for a few days and the roads treacherous for driving and walking on. I worried that maybe the service would be cancelled due to the poor weather conditions, but it wasn't gladly. We set out at 8am this morning after dropping our two young sons at their Nan's house who conveniently lives over the road. 

After driving carefully and rather nervously through the snow, we arrived at the crematorium and were introduced by the Reverend who would be conducting the service. She ran through what would happen as this was all new to us. We were never advised that the service would be so personal, a number of midwives at the hospital had mentioned that the service would be communial and we would share it with other grieving parents. But this was not the case. I felt sad and guilty that more people weren't there to pay they're respects to our baby. It was solely me and Stewart, clinging to each other lost in our own personal tidal wave of sadness.

The service started with Stewart carrying the tiny white coffin in from the funeral car and placing it onto the altar. He took his place next to me, his face wet with tears and pain. I held onto him, mostly as an anchor to keep me from falling and also as comfort for him. We listened and sobbed as the readings and poems were read out to us, each word resonating through us, striking every nerve within us. I couldn't take my eyes away from the coffin, my last chance to have my baby in the same room as me. I wanted to run over and grab it before the curtains were drawn around it, I wanted to prize the lid off and cradle my baby, never letting it go. I stared at the box through every sentence read and through every tear...I watched as the curtains were finally drawn and clung helplessly to Stewart as we both struggled to control what we were feeling, which was raw sadness.

I wanted more than anything to have my baby, why is life so unfair?

I should be six months pregnant now, I should be looking forward to holding it.

I should be looking forward to all the things that comes with having a baby and a new child...the new addition to our family.

I should be buying a new pram and a new crib.

I should be shopping for gender, knowing whether to buy pink or blue.

I shouldn't be feeling so empty, I shouldn't be sad at every moment I wont now experience.

I shouldn't be watching as my Husband carries our baby in a coffin.

I shouldn't be listening to prayers and readings or watching as my baby is finally laid to rest. 

I shouldn't be feeling sad when I see new babies that are introduced on social media feeds.
I shouldn't cry myself to sleep as I feel the loss of my baby, missing the bumps and nudges from inside my uterus.

I can never say that the service was not beautiful. As sad as it was, it was also very special to us. It was small, simple and personal. In a way, it was better that it was just us, the two main people who would feel the loss the most. I will always be grateful to the hospital and funeral services for providing this touching gesture without any pay from ourselves. It was absolutely amazing. 

And this final paragraph is to you, Harper Geary. We may not have got to hold you, we may not have got to keep you, but please remember that you have and will always have a place in our hearts. You are very much loved, I just wish I could have protected you as any mother should. One day I will be with you and I will take you in my arms and never ever let you go. Until that day, please be safe in my Nan's arms, she will always look after you. 

RIP Harper Geary 13/11/2017