Matt came downstairs. I still hadn't slept, but I didn't tell him that. It was seven AM and I had been up all night. Matt was always trying to fill up those days after with some sort of mind occupying activity. Keep yourself busy. I knew that this was a good coping tactic for him, but for me, I just wanted to lay in bed alone and stare at nothing. It had only been three days since she died. He also didn't want to leave me alone. He refused to. I'm not going to lie to you and say suicide doesn't cross your mind at a time like this, because it does. But I wasn't thinking like that today. Those horrible thoughts wouldn't come until later, when everything calmed down. Even though they were short lived, they hurt my mind, and tourchered my heart.
My mom came over. She asked me what she could help with. I knew exactly what I needed to do today. We sat down and started going through all the baby things. Of course I wanted to save things from when Izzy was a baby, but most of it had to go. I had to get those constant reminders out of my sight.
Box after box, we went through everything. Of course the thought of maybe one day having another baby, another girl, crossed my mind. But that was immediately replaced by the thought that all these things were for her. For Emmy. My Emmy. I knew I couldn't save them.
Matt's brother and sister in law were coming up on Thursday night. Their urgency to get to us was so touching and kind. Plans were made to get together at Maris and Dev's place that night. As we pulled up I couldn't do it, I needed some time. The urgency to be alone with my thoughts was never so strong. I dropped Matt and Izzy off with the promise to return soon. Matt was not happy again about me being alone. He asked me where I was going and I told him I didn't know, even though in the back of my head I knew what I needed to do.
I pulled into the cemetery, and parked my car. I stared at the plot we had chosen for a good ten minutes before getting out. I slowly made my way. I was not prepared for what I saw. The grave was already dug. The place my baby would be put. Words cannot express the horror that sight was. My daughter was going in there, the ground. A place so dark and cold. The thought of her in there, all alone and scared was awful. I lost it. I cried until I no longer could handle it by myself. I called Matt.
"Where are you?" He said. "I'm at the cemetery and there is already a hole dug, I sobbed." No other words were needed.
His next words were reassuring for that moment. "You have to remember, that's just her body. Her spirit is in heaven with people that love her and are taking care of her. She's not scared were she is, she's happy." He then pleaded with me to come back. I told him I was on my way.
As I pulled up to the house I was relieved to see almost everyone was gone. Even though I was glad they were in town I was not ready to see everyone. We could save that for tomorrow at the funeral. I had also developed a case of social anxiety, and along with that came the fact that I could no longer look at people in the eye. I didn't want to see their hurt, but most of all, I didn't want them to see mine.
I walked in the house. Rachel was there, I gave her a hug. Marissa came out to greet me, and to show me the necklaces she made for Emmy and Izzy. They were absolutey beautiful, and the thought that they both would have one forever, comforted me. In them, were the letters to make the word "sisters," with both of their names engraved on the back.
We headed home, I was not ready for the night time. Night had become my own personal hell. Can't sleep. Can't stop thinking. Can't breathe. Anxiety. I also knew that this night would be extremely hard, because in the morning we would be laying our sweet baby girl down to rest.
