Holding Abigail, Saying Goodbye

When we were first told that Abigail had died we were also told that her body would have to remain where it was until Savannah was born so that she could continue to grow until she was ready to come as I was only 17 weeks pregnant at that time.  To bring Abigail into the world at that time would have meant having Savannah as well and there was no way that she could have survived  we would have lost both of them.  What this meant however, was that Abigail's body would deteriorate before we were finally able to see and hold her.  She wouldn't look like a perfect little baby.

The specialist that we talked to the day that Abigail's death was confirmed told us that there would be nothing left, just grayish tissue that wouldn't even be recognizable as a baby at all.  This horrible image remained with me during the pregnancy.  I couldn't believe that my baby would just be gone, that there really wouldn't be anything left to see or hold. 

My doctor was on leave during part of my pregnancy as she had a baby as well.  She came back when I was 35 weeks.  By this point I had had a lot of time to think, and Howard and I had spent a lot of time talking about what we wanted.  I wanted to see and hold my baby.  I needed that.  We needed that.  We planned to bury her as well.  We couldn't imagine holding and seeing her and then just letting the hospital cremate her and do whatever they do with the ashes (I didn't ask, as I didn't want to know).  I expressed my desire to my doctor the day that she came back and she agreed that it could be very helpful in the healing process to see Abigail as long as we were prepared for what we would see.  She told me that she would be a little smaller in size than when she passed away, that her color would be darker, and to expect that because her bones were still soft at the time she had died, and because Savannah was still growing that her little body would be squished.  It was better than what I had been told before, but still not the way that you hope to be able to see your baby.

I have had several people that have asked me about them leaving her body there, and what she looked like.  They always become concerned that it makes me uncomfortable talking about it, especially her little body.  I always assure them that I don't mind, that I like to talk about her.  I always hesitate to talk about her around others for fear that it bothers them. So, it's nice when people do ask about her and acknowledge her existence.  If reading about my description of Abigail's body is going to bother you, you might want to skip the next two paragraphs.

On the day that the twins were born I was handed Savannah as soon as her cord was cut (it was so short that she couldn't be moved until it was).  It was a huge relief as I had been panicking over her well-being the whole time that I was in labor.  As I held her and saw that she was fine I was able to relax.  She was cleaned up and then given back to me at which point my doctor brought over Abigail.  I wanted to see her, but I was feeling  nervous too as I didn't know what to expect she would look like.  The doctor had laid her on a towel to hold her as her body was so fragile.  She held her out for us to see and pointed out each of her tiny features, even her umbilical cord which she unwrapped from around her arm.  She was exactly the length of my hand.  When I think of her I often look at my hand to remember just what size she was.  She had indeed been squished as we were told to expect, but we were able to get an idea as to what she looked like.  She was flat instead of having dimension to her body. Her color was a little darker, but not as dark as I had imagined.  In reality she looked much better than what I had imagined in my head, and I was glad.  Her little features were so perfect.  Her eyes and tiny nose and mouth.  She had long fingers, and her little feet were as big as my pinky finger nail.  Each of her tiny toes was the size of a pin head.  All ten of them, perfect little toes.

Perfect little toes

Holding her made it real that she had been here.  That there was indeed two babies.  That she had lived and would live again someday.  That she was a part of our family.  I could feel her spirit present as we held her tiny body.  It brought great comfort to know that this was not the end.  That we would have the opportunity to see this tiny baby of ours again someday.  Oh, how horribly I will miss her until that day comes though.  Never has there been a hole in my heart like there has been since losing her.  Some days it's so bad that there is actually physical pain from it.  I would give anything to hold her and run my fingers through her hair, kiss her cheek and wrap my arms around her.  It feels like an eternity before that day will come.

This was the only time that I would hold Savannah and Abigail at the same time.  Both of my little girls.  After losing two pregnancies in 2011 I had prayed many times asking if I could please have twins to make up for it.  I was shocked when we were told that I was carrying twins, and devastated when weeks later we were told that we would only get to bring home one of them.  How could this happen?  Two perfect babies, but my body had failed me again.  I was grateful that I had the chance to hold both of them together.  Savannah will always know that she is a twin even if her sister couldn't be here with us right now. 

I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to hold my sweet Abigail, even if only for a brief time to have her little body with me.  To be able to see her and touch her and to tell her that I love her.  It was a blessing to have those moments even if her tiny body wasn't perfect, I know that one day it will be again.

The day we buried Abigail the weather was overcast.  The clouds were low lying and looked like mist surrounding the mountains as we drove across town to the cemetery.  We were so grateful that Howard's family allowed us to bury our little one with his grandparents.  I have been blessed because of this in ways that I couldn't have imagined then.  The people at the mortuary and cemetery were so very kind and did everything that they could to help us and didn't charge us for anything but the tiny casket.

When we arrived at the mortuary I was feeling nervous and overwhelmed with emotions.  I had made a hat and some blankets to wrap Abigail up in when we put her in the casket.  Karlie wanted to make something for her and so she made a tiny pillow.  We had a few minutes to sit together as a family and the kids were able to see the casket that Abigail would be placed in.  Karlie was upset that we wouldn't let her see Abigail and she didn't want her to be in the casket or to be buried (neither did I).  There was a small bear inside that had come with it and we let Karlie keep it.  It helped her get through the day.

Howard took the kids outside when it was time to get Abigail ready.  The gentleman helping us offered to wrap her up for us, but I just had to do it myself.  I would have forever regretted not having wrapped and know for sure that she was all covered up the way that I would have wanted.  I was a little nervous as I uncovered her tiny body.  It had been two weeks since I had seen her and I was afraid that her tiny body would have deteriorated further.  She didn't look much different, the only noticeable change was to her feet.  I placed her on the blanket and wrapped her tiny body and placed the hat on her head.  Her tiny body was so fragile and I was afraid of hurting her.  I laid her in the casket but couldn't seem to get her positioned just right with the pillow that was in there.  Finally I took it out and just used the one that Karlie had made.  It was a much better size for her and worked much better.  I covered her up with the other blankets that I had made and just stood there looking at her.  She looked so peaceful.  Howard wasn't sure that he wanted to see her again.  He was afraid that her body was going to have changed a lot, but I asked the funeral director not to close the casket until I was able to ask him if he wanted to again.  After it was closed there was no changing your  mind as this type of casket sealed upon closing.

I walked out to the pond where Howard and the kids were.  His aunt and uncle had just gotten there.  When I told Howard that there wasn't much change to her body he decided to come in with me to say goodbye and we left the kids with his aunt and uncle.  I'm glad that we had that time together with her to say goodbye and to just be together for a few minutes.  The casket was closed and then we had to face everyone else and burying our daughter. 

We met our family that had come in the foyer of the mortuary and walked out to the grave together as it was very close.  Howard carried the tiny casket out and we all followed.  We kept the service brief as we had our four young children with us.  We sang Families can be Together Forever, which I had a very difficult time  even choking out the words.  We had a prayer and I did my best to read a poem.  Our bishop spoke, and Howard dedicated the grave.  The kids had picked out the flowers that were put on Abigail's casket.  Their strange assortment looked absolutely beautiful when put together and couldn't have been more perfect for their baby sister.  They each picked a couple of flowers after the service was over to take home with them.

I wish that the pain ended there, but it is still so strong.  I think of Abigail often, I don't even know how many times a day.   I still cry often.  It is usually just random things that trigger the tears as well.  We have gone back to Abigail's grave a few times as a family.  When we picked pumpkins at Halloween we picked one to take to the grave as well.  We decorated a small Christmas tree that we placed on it in December.  I can't wait for the snow to melt and spring to come so that we can put a permanent marker on the grave finally.

Abigail until I see you again my sweet little one, I will always love you!