Lucy's Funeral

When I attended the funeral of my baby nephew two years ago, I sincerely hoped it would be the last infant funeral I would have to attend in a long time-- or ever. Life doesn't work that way, though. 

On the sixth of this month, I learned that my friend's niece had been stillborn at around 30 weeks gestation. I was heartbroken for her, having experienced something very similar when Bridger passed away. I went to her house and we hugged and cried and talked. I wished her luck as her family was flying to Texas to be with her sister the next day.

The next morning, my kids babysitter called me at work because Lia was puking. I left work early and just as I got to my car, I got a text from my mom. My cousin's baby girl had been stillborn that morning.

I couldn't believe it. It seemed like just too much. Too much heartache, too many grieving parents. I spent the next several days distracted, sort of angry and sad. Infant death is so very hard to wrap your mind around. It just doesn't make any sense. I don't know how people who don't have the constant reassurance from the Spirit make it through times like these. My cousin and his wife said they felt that the Spirit was wrapped around them, shielding them from the worst of the pain of losing their baby Lucy.

So a few days later, I found myself once again at the funeral of a sweet baby. Lucy looked so beautiful in her pictures and resting peacefully in her little casket. So many family and friends were there. That's the thing about funerals -- through the immense pain, the support and love of friends and family is almost overwhelming. It's such an exhausting fluctuation of emotion.  My aunt Lauri beautifully put it this way: "Grief is heavy, and the spirit is light, so we experience a bit of equilibrium from time to time." 

I will never fully understand why the Lord needs to take babies back to him before they get a chance to live. It's never easy. I'm just so glad the Lord is fully present during these times, to help ease the pain a little.