The Burial

Today we laid our son to rest. When we gave birth to him and saw his precious face and little body we knew physically he was perfect. During our funeral service our pastor went on with so many kind words, but the ones that stuck out the most were the ones that Hudson really IS perfect. Hudson has never sinned, never had an ill thought, never broken a commandment - nothing; he truly was/is perfect. Never has Hudson had to face the harsh world or be ridiculed. God has a completely perfect angel by his side.
Those words from Lyle, the pastor, were some of the most comforting words we could have heard. Words alone may not make our grief go away any faster, but they still can give your heart a little bit of peace. On this day, a day that you never expect to happen when you are in your mid-twenties; a day you are to bury your newborn son, words of peace are all you can ask for. That same day John and I had two friends, both of which had suffered miscarriages within that same week, and I started to think about them and my heart wished for hope that Lyle's words would comfort them as well. Although each miscarriage, stillbirth, and loss of a child happens differently, as with my friends, we each still had a loss in our hearts.
The ceremony was complete with a 21 inch baby blue casket, a memory certificate with Hudson's footprints and a piece of his hair, as well as a picture we framed. The whole set up was beautiful. We had flowers that matched perfectly - white gerber daisies, yellow roses, and small accents of blue. John and I added four yellow roses to the set-up and then we added four red roses; one for each grandmother and one for him and me to place beside the tiny casket. The funeral remained a very private event - our families, very close personal family friends, and our closest friends.
After the service was complete we were hugged and consoled by each attendee; we had never been apart of such and it was seemed very awkward to be the ones having to be consoled. My whole life I have been the consoler - the one who tries to give others strength. I have never been the type to grieve, cry, or be sad in public. In fact I am not comfortable without having a smile on my face or being happy. After saying goodbye to each of our guests I remember trembling in the arms of one of my oldest friends, one I have known since kindergarten, and thinking, it's ok to cry - you don't have to be strong all of the time. Once everyone had left John and I sat in our chairs; it was our quiet time alone to give our "earthly goodbye" to our dear Hudson. We watched as they placed his coffin in the tiny white vault, place the yellow and red single stemmed roses on top of the coffin, and then close the vault. The coffin was lowered manually by hand to the ground that had been freshly dug to hold our sweet child. When the time came to fill the space we were offered the chance to shovel the first dirt - a very nice gesture from the cemetery workers. John and I shoveled the first dirt particles together and then sat down to watch the finishing touches.
As we left our sweet child we were left with closure - a peace. We know our perfect angel is with God. We know that there is a reason for all of this pain. We also know that there is no one or nothing to blame for this event in our life. God will never give a person more than they can handle. Obviously God knows that John, myself, and our marriage is capable of handling what He has given to us - only knowing that there are better days ahead and many more blessings that are in store for our lives.
Now that we have given birth to our son and now laid him to rest we know that the two hardest days are over. We can continue the healing process and work on getting back to "normal". There will not be a day that we do not think of our precious Hudson, but instead of tears we will look at Hudson as a little boy that brought John and I even closer together, our families closer, and as a way to inspire others with our story.