Burial day

So it's just past 9 months now that my babies were born. That's longer than I was actually pregnant with them! Amelia and Abigail were born on February 16th (nearly 8 weeks early, at 32 weeks gestation). We had Abigail's funeral that Saturday (Feb 20) following her birth (see our March posts about the funeral).



Funeral day leaving the Church

 We decided to bury Abigail on a day separate from her funeral on the following Tuesday (Feb 23). We weren't sure if we would like that (dredging up those feelings a second time and prolonging the inevitable). As it turned out, we actually did like splitting it up. That left the funeral day a little less crammed and allowed us some time later that day to attend the temple. Just before entering that holy place, we were able to see a beautiful double rainbow that proclaimed a hopeful promise that as dark and rainy as our day had started out (physically and emotionally) that the end would be more peaceful than we could imagine. Fittingly, it arched over the sacred building within whose walls are available those sure promises of eternal family bonds that link us beyond the grave.

That rainbow over the temple image has become the capstone on our feelings about the passing of our Abigail. We feel our girls are our "temple babies" because we attended the temple each week I was pregnant with them (before I was on bedrest and in the hospital). It was where we received many answers to our dilemna concerning Abigail's condition. It was also where I received the answer as to where we should bury our darling infant. We know when we move away from Tucson (no announcement, just feel at some point we will since Ammon joined the Air Force) that the temple will be what will draw us back to Arizona. The Mesa temple means a lot to us for the reasons just listed as well as it was where my parents were sealed when my mom was 9 months pregnant with me. The cemetary Abigail is in is very close to the temple. 

It's a beautiful plot. We picked it out the day before the funeral. We looked at several spots but the setting was what appealed to me most. It was under some trees (I liked the idea of some shade being over my baby instead of under the unrelenting sun), it is in the beloved "infant section" in company with many other well-loved children that too left grieving parents, and when you look to the east, you see beautiful mountains and the steeple of one of our new church buildings. Just lovely. Right now there is only a simple metal gravemarker over her grave. We have just recently ordered her gravestone which bears the design of the rainbow over the temple. It has Abigail's name, birthdate and the time she lived. At the bottom, it bears the hopeful, knowing, striving phrase "we'll see you in the morning". Our friends, who also lost a child to anencephaly and is buried in the Mesa City Cemetary, have that phrase on his gravestone. Everytime I see that, I cry and feel the spirit of that desire. I asked the mother if she would be alright if we too could say that as well and she graciously agreed.

The day of the burial was warm and beautiful (in direct contrast to the funeral day which was rainy and chill). Those in attendance at the graveside were: myself, Ammon, Connor, my parents, Ammon's mom and sister, Ammon's grandmother and her sister as well as their niece, my grandparents, my Aunt and her friend (who visited me in the hospital), our friend who also lost a son to anencephaly, and Bishop and Sister Hillman. I was excited to have my grandmother there, whose ailing health did not allow her to travel to Tucson for the funeral (but my grandfather and Aunt from the Mesa area were at the funeral).

Our time at the cemetary began with Ammon and Connor carrying the casket across the grassy cemetary to the canopy set up for the burial service. I had been fairly strong (as far as not an exhorbitant amount of crying the day of the funeral) but that day, I was a mess. As soon as I saw my friend Janae, I hugged her and lost it. I guess seeing a fellow mother who had been in my shoes not many years before, walking past her son's grave, feeling the finality of the occasion caused me to weep almost uncontrollably for a few minutes. I wept probably the most I had up until that point. I kept blubbering to her that it seemed so final. I mean, this was the last time I would see my girl above the ground. Every other visit to the cemetary would be to the earth that was piled on top. Oh, how my heart ached! I hurt so deeply and wanted so very much for all of this to not be real!




Spears side of the family

My parents and I at the graveside looking over the shoulders of my grandmother and aunt



My father gave the dedication of the grave. Ammon had the chairs arranged so we all faced each other and he asked that each person say something about our feelings. It was nice that everyone did. Some said some truly insightful, beautiful and hopeful things. I kindof babbled and blubbered about my hope to see her again, beautiful and healthy, once she is resurrected. I expressed how, since the funeral, I had had some daydreams of seeing her as a little girl with blond curly hair running around. I knew it was her and I felt so hopeful...and a deep sense of longing.







Connor "gravestone hopping". Boys will be boys despite the occasion.

Connor handled all of this actually a lot better than I thought he would. I really feel for him. I mean, he's just a kid and all he knows is that his sister isn't coming back. On several occasions he showed me that he understood more than his 5-year-old age made me think was possible. Of course we've had lots of talks with him before and since but the tears he shed that day let me know that he got it in some small way. He had such great love in his heart for his little sister that he would never know in this life. Both at the funeral in our family viewing, at the funeral, and at the graveside, he wanted time to express himself.



At the viewing, he asked everyone to sit down and then proceeded to explain all the things we had on display on the table including clothing Abigail had worn, her teddy bear, her photo album, her flower arrangement, etc. Then he did something, with his little limited understanding, that surprised us- he gave her a blessing. He put his hands on her head (as he has seen his daddy and other priesthood holders do) and prayed over her.

At the funeral itself, he wasn't on the program but thought he should speak. Because it was such a large setting (much of the chapel was full) and we hadn't talked about or prepared him to say anything, not thinking he would want to, so we didn't allow him to (looking back, we could have done that better). 

At the graveside, he did take some time at the end to express how he was feeling and that he loved his sister Abigail. Then he asked me and the 2 grandmas to stand up (calling my mother-in-law Gwendolyn Spears) and I think he asked us to say something else about what we felt that day. It was neat to see him process through this whole experience.