Going Home

Today was Elijah's funeral. It was a very bittersweet day.

I first walked into the church, thinking all is well. I held my head up high and choked back the tears. Emotionally I was doing better than I had prepared for, but physically I was in a lot of pain. My body hasn't quite healed back to its normal state of a 25-year old woman. I feel brittle, slow, and simple exhausted. I feel old; older than I would like to be at the moment.

Once I past the church doors, I felt as empty as the space of the lobby and the bodiless pews and overflow chairs.

I looked down the aisle to the front of the church, where a casket would normally be. I saw a small table. There sat my sweet baby Elijah; his ashes in a cherry wood box; a window giving portal to his face printed on a piece of paper. Under his sweet innocent face was typed his full name and date of birth. Oh how did that ever yank at my heart. I could feel my face start to heat up and then it happened; a tear. I remember like it was just seconds ago that I was holding my two pound baby boy, and now his body no longer exists. He is just dust stuffed in a box. I can no longer call on the nurse and have my baby's body brought to me so that I may hold him for as long as I please. All I can do is hug a wooden box and tell myself that no matter what form he is in now, he is still my child. He still exists, just in a more powerful way now. I still yearn for that bodily connection though; that human touch.

All of the gifts we have received over the past two months for Elijah were daintily placed throughout the church so that visitors may see how much Elijah was loved; loved by not only family and friends but also complete strangers. Strangers who have lost their own babies and continue the lives and spirits of their children through beautiful gifts of blankets and keepsakes. I am thankful for strangers. They become instant friends; instant family.

Everything was set and time for visiting was approaching. My husband and I were asked to view the tables to make sure things were as we wanted them. It didn't matter any way to me, I was confident in knowing the funeral director would take care and attention to detail as if Elijah were his own. I knew all would be fine just as he has placed things; and it was. It was beautiful; bittersweet.

Familiar faces started to flow through the church doors. I was so happy that my feeling of loneliness started to fade and be filled with comfort. My husband also said to me later tonight how happy he was that so many people, not even knowing Elijah, has shown up for us. It made us feel loved. It made us feel that Elijah was loved; unconditionally.

The sermon was to be very casual and it was. It felt like just a group of great people telling stories and sharing words from the Bible. It was just how Elijah's short lived life was; casual. No big fancy show or party; just hanging out. Elijah just went with the flow and so did we. We wouldn't have changed a thing.

My favorite part was listening to my husband speak his few words. He talked about being selfish. He was selfish when Elijah was born; not running out to family right away to meet them and not letting Elijah look out the window to see the clouds and sun. He was selfish for twenty minutes, holding Elijah all by himself. Elijah gripped his pinkie finger as he sang "My Bonnie" to him, my favorite high school choir warm up. I sang that song to both my sons while I was pregnant with them, and still to Paighton to this very day when he is sad, sick, got a boo-boo, or whenever I feel he wants to hear it. He always smiles with a giant teeth-filled grin; crinkling his little nose at me. I know he loves me when he does that. I never got a chance to sing "My Bonnie" to Elijah while he was alive. I am thankful of my husband for taking my spot and making sure our son got to hear it.

I do not think my husband was selfish at all during those twenty minutes he spent alone with our son. They needed that alone time for daddy-and-son bonding time. My husband if anything has sacrificed more in those twenty minutes than he has all 28 weeks of our pregnancy; it couldn't have been selfishness. He talked about a bond that I have with Elijah that he will never know or feel. I feel selfish. I wish I could give up what I know and feel about that bond I made while being pregnant with Elijah and give that to my husband so that he may feel it too.

Last night I talked about which direction to take from here. What's left? My husband expressed that same feeling as we sat at the front of the church earlier on before visitation hour started. It was nice to know we shared the same feeling. I hope that we can help each other remember our son. What he felt like; his smell and touch. I know we will, but I cant help to worry.

I know the direction Elijah has gone. Home. He has gone home to Heaven to be with his Creator, our Lord Jesus Christ. God may not have created Elijah to have a perfect body functional to sustain life here on Earth, but that doesn't matter where he went. He doesn't need a body in Heaven. God created him perfectly the way he is. God created my sweet baby Elijah in His own image.

We brought Elijah's ashes home with us in a wood box.

God brought Elijah Home in a fiery chariot. Elijah knew no death... words of a wonderful Pastor that I didn't understand until tonight. It all fits; it all makes sense.

Mommy and Daddy forever love you sweet baby Elijah. Thank you for changing our world.