Day 21

Three weeks down, an entire lifetime to go...


I've decided to share today's moment of insanity. But first, I have a secret to tell. Over the course of the past 3 weeks, I have realized that it kind of irritates me to hear people comment on how I've 'lost' my baby. Well-meaning people have said things like, "I heard you lost your son." or "I'm so sorry you lost your baby."

In my mind, I'm like, what are you talking about. I have never 'lost' my baby. He was never misplaced. I've always known exactly where he is. Again, this is just a minor irritation and I never imagined I'd tell anyone, let alone include it in this blog. Today, after work, I went to the cemetary. To my horror, all the flowers had been removed including the basket of flowers I left on Saturday. I thought I knew where Zavi's spot is. Until...there were no flowers to mark the exact location.

My heart dropped. I felt what I can only imagine is the beginning of an anxiety attack. I thought to myself, now I've really done it. Now, I really have lost my baby. In that moment, I was not sure which of two spots was his. No worries. The whole thing strikes me as slightly amusing now.

Anyway, in my moment of panic and mild hysteria, I called the funeral home and spoke with a very kind man who assured me that he would find someone to help me immediately. I saw a man who appeared to be working and was assured by the man on the phone that he'd be able to help me. I walked up to the man and explained my situation. I must've have sounded like a truly crazy person. I told the man that I needed help. I needed to find my baby.

This man stopped what he was doing. He reassured me that he understood, that it would be ok and that he would help me find my baby. We went over to Babyland, where the babies are. He asked me for the baby's name. I told him and he said something like, That's the baby with the mariachis, right? He quickly and confidently showed me the spot that is Zavier's.

I will never lose my baby again.