Physical Reminders

This is Ezra's blanket.

I no longer have it,

he took it with him underground.

In that cold cemetery where he hangs out with his Jewish ancestors.

Although no one in our families is buried in the cemetery,
we were comforted when we discovered how old it was.
Graves of old Jews dating to the turn of the century.

The 19th to 20th centuries that is.

David commented that the ancestors must be talking little Ezra's ear off.

So many stories.

Long lives, short lives.

We found a grave of a child who lived less than a year.

Hard lives.

And lives filled with joy.

Ezra is buried in the corner of what will one day be my grave.

Next to what will one day be his daddy's grave.

This is mostly because of the cemetery salesman

A man I'd prefer never to meet again.

But I do like the idea of physically being with Ezra one day.

Even if I don't believe in an afterlife

or heaven.

Of course it's only Ezra's tiny body that sleeps at the cemetery.

His spirit, his soul is here with us.

He follows us everywhere we go.

Showing us the magic that life still holds,

Even when it's hard to see through our grief.

Even when we no longer believe in magic,

he reminds us to delight

and to love each other even harder.

The way we love him.

Recently I've been focusing on all the physical aspects of Ezra I can remember

I meditate on his being,

conjuring up all his features.

His slight 4 pound weight in my arms.

His full head of fuzzy black hair

His barely there eyebrows

His miniature version of his daddy's nose

His rosy cheeks

His scarlet mouth

His little fingers and toes

And those long legs!

But what that doesn't capture is his personality

For even sleeping, we could tell Ezra had character

It was almost as if he was smiling, just slightly

We imagine he would have been quite the comedian

Always a smile on his face

Eyes dancing even when serious

Every time I envision what Ezra might look like

at 2 months, 2 years, 12 years, 20 years old

He is always smiling.

I held Ezra after I birthed him

Kissed him on the head and cried and cried

Explored his tiny body

Memorized every detail

But I couldn't do it for long

I was too overwhelmed

Too out of my mind with grief and medication and hormones.

After we said goodbye, the nurses kept him nearby,

And offered several times to bring him back to me.

But I just couldn't.

I was in too much pain.

Once a little time passed,

as we made the funeral arrangements,

I realized that I wanted to have more time with my son.

I needed to say a proper goodbye

Away from the IV drips and beeping machines

So we arranged to have an hour with Ezra before we buried him

We had him dressed in the little alligator outfit that his Aunt Rachael had bought him

Green and white striped with a matching hat

Which was too big on his head, even though it was newborn sized

We had planned to bring him home from the hospital in that outfit

But now we were putting him to bed

For good

He was wrapped in his yellow blanket

Made for him with love by his Office Grandma

At work I have a wonderful mentor who I call my Office Mommy

So when I told her I was pregnant I asked her to be Ezra's Office Grandma

It was only fitting.

Even though she hadn't told me, I knew she must be knitting a blanket for Ezra

So I asked her if I could have it

To wrap Ezra in so that he wouldn't be cold.

I slept with Ezra's blanket each night from the evening she gave it to me

Until his funeral

Ezra looked so peaceful wrapped in his blanket

Prepared to sleep forever.

We placed several other items in the baby casket with him

A photo of his mommy and daddy,

the beautiful one taken by his Aunt Syreeta

(in the column on the left of my blog)

His mouse toy, that I had bought just a week before he died

And a burp cloth,

just one item I had allowed myself to get in preparation for Ezra's arrival.

Although I wasn't 100% superstitious

And did get some things in preparation for Ezra

I didn't get a lot,

wouldn't let myself get a lot

Just the things I would need immediately

And even with those I hadn't gotten everything.

In that hour before we said goodbye forever

David and I laughed with Ezra

We cried with Ezra

We prepared him for his journey

And told him how much we loved him

And would miss him

And we read him 'Good Night Moon'

Along with the inscription in the front from his Aunt Rachael

And we cried some more

And laughed a little

And we said goodbye.

The bright sun at the cemetery seemed shocking

The beauty of the day a stark contrast to our broken hearts

When the short service concluded

We shoveled the dirt ourselves into the grave

I shoveled a little

And then David took over

And filled his son's grave with a fury I had never seen in him

He said he was just taken over by the moment

And knew he needed to complete what he had begun.

I've been focusing on these physical reminders

Because I don't want to forget my Ezra

Not that I ever could

But having been so cruelly stripped of my mamahood

I want to remember what it is to be his mommy

To hold him

And take care of him

To see my features and his daddy's reflected in his face

It's hard to be a mommy to a spirit baby

When the world doesn't look at you as a mama

And there's nothing tangible to show

No Ezra in a sling or a stroller

No house full of toys and baby paraphernalia

The nursery door shut tight

Back at work long before maternity leave was supposed to end

Trying to piece together a life

That looks nothing like the life I'd planned

Because I certainly never imagined

a life without Ezra.