the phone call

We have been waiting. Waiting for closure. Waiting for it all to be over. Waiting for the phone call. For the last week everytime I hear my phone ring I jump in fear that it is the funeral home calling us.

It started off like any other day. We couldn't go to the pool cause it was storming like crazy, so the boys and I were crawled up on the couch watching a movie. We were laughing and being silly and then David called me. As soon as I heard him say "hey" I knew something was wrong. It never dawned on me that we had gotten the call. He told me he had just got off the phone from the funeral home and that we needed to come by this evening. As much as you know the call is coming, as prepared as you can be for taking the next step when it actually comes it totally takes your breath away. As soon as I got off the phone with David, I ran back to our bathroom and I preceeded to throw up over and over and over again. I turned on the shower (to drown my noise from our boys) & I layed down on the cold floor of my bathroom and I screamed and then threw up some more and then I screamed again. The pain and the emptiness is gut wrenching. The fact that we have to actually take the next step in the death of our baby is unimaginable.

So as I sit here. I am waiting. Waiting for my husband so we can go down to the funeral home together to pick up our baby boy's ashes. To think that I will be bringing him home in a little box, instead of the infant seat in the backseat seems like the cruelest, horindus step I have to take as a mother. Our final resting spot will be in Georgia and we will scatter his ashes over David's dad's grave, but until we are able to get him there I keep wondering where do I put him? Do I put him in the back closet where it is dark and scary, do I put him on the fireplace for us all to see him, do I put him in the nursery next to his baby bed where he was supposed to sleep whole, healthy and happy. Do I put him on my nightstand where I have his footprints, and his blanket lays on my bed. There is no good place to put him!!

I am sitting in my dark living room w/ no sound but the sweet sounds of worship music and rain falling from the sky. I am reminded of the song sung by Steven Curtis Chapman about all the tears we cry. He asks God "do you cry a 1,000 tears for every tear I cry?" I can't tell you how many tears I have shed today alone and as I look outside I see all the rain drops and I know that God is grieving with me. Just when I think I can't cry one more tear, the flood gates open up my head aches from crying and screaming so much. I just want to sleep but I fear of the nightmares that will come with sleep overtakes me. I feel God's arms around me comforting me, trying to comfort me. I as much as I want to I can't be angry. I know God didn't do this, but I also know that he could stop it also. Everything was lined up perfectly for Zeke to be healed or come back the way Lazarus did. Why he didn't do that we will never know, but we have to believe there is a purpose and there is a plan for all this. Zeke had a purpose and as his parents we are determined to keep that alive. He will not die in vain, I just wish I could get a glimps of him playing w/ Jesus just a glimpse.

Tuesday's will never be the same for me for long time. I try not to read to much into things, but I can't ignore the fact that Tuesday's seem to play a role in Zeke. Those were the day's I had my big ultrasound appointments and we would learn more about Zeke. Tuesday is the last day I truely believe I felt him move inside my belly.

Tuesday the 25th of May Zeke William was delivered and we celebrated his earthly birthday admist tears and heartache knowing that he was already celebrating in heaven w/ his pawpaw, great grandma and great grandpa and his other sibling.

Tuesday the 8th of June Zeke William will be brought home where he will stay until we are able scatter his ashe's in Georgia at a private family memorial. No baby should have to come home this way. No parent should have to carry their son into the house this way. I want to smell the sweet baby smell and kiss his cute chubby cheek's not hold him in a box.