No one else even asked his name. I know they are all worried about upsetting me, but if he had lived they would have been asking more questions.
Shortly before I left work, the funeral home called and said that Ted and I had to go and sign the papers so that they could cremate Jacob. It turns out that they have had his body for a few days. I thought that they were going to call us to fill out the forms before they could get him from the hospital. We had been told that the autopsy would take 3-4 weeks. I had wondered how the could preserve his body for that long, but it turns out that they would have done the autopsy within a day or two of his birth and the results take 3-4 weeks (makes more sense to me). I thought I had another week to decide what to have with him when he was cremated, but we didn't. My Mom knit a small blanket to wrap him in. I gave a lock of my hair and I wrote a letter to him. I couldn't think of anything else. It was hard writing the letter. I thought about what to write the whole drive there and then we sat in the car at the funeral home while I wrote it out. I kept crying. I should not have been parked behind a funeral home writing a letter to have with my baby boy while he is cremated. Signing the papers was also hard and I just barely held back the tears.
Then it got worse. We have been planning to bury his ashes in a small garden beside our church, but the guy at the funeral home said that there might not be any ashes because only the bones makes the ashes and he is so tiny that there might not be any. I really want to bury him somewhere and have his name recorded somewhere. Now we may not have anything to bury and my baby just disappears into thin air. I'm trying to be hopeful that there will be at least a few ashes, but not much has worked out for us lately so I'm not counting on this working out either.
After we left the funeral home, we stood in the parking lot hugging each other and crying. I kept thinking that that would be the last time that I would ever be in the same building as my baby.
I know that things could be worse, they can always be worse, but this is pretty darn bad.
I miss you Jacob.