Cruel jokes

So my milk started coming in Tuesday night--I could feel my boobs starting to get heavier and more full. I was with friends, so I iced them when I got home. I've been living in a sports bra ever since and last night I started with the cold cabbage leaves. Aaaaahhh, relief!

I have some concerns that my boobs are warm to the touch, rock hard (well, I expected that one) and do have some serious lumps in them. I might have to call the doctor's office since warm-to-touch was on their list of warning signs. I started taking benadryl at night to try to dry them out a bit. Fun, fun, fun, right?

Yesterday we started shopping for cremains containers. This was another item that we surprised ourselves by changing our minds on. A local funeral home donates this service rather than have standard hospital removal (can you believe that kind of generosity and compassion?) And DH has asked that we pick out something that's nice, not morbid, and that he can keep in his office. We didn't find anything that he felt was precious or unique enough, so we're headed to the antique mall today to do some shopping.

And then we'll head to the funeral home to pick up our daughter.

I don't even know what to say about this. And I don't think I need to paint a picture, either.

Speaking of the funeral home, I had been feeling really good on Tuesday and my sisters had been in/out to help me around the house (we've had a lot of family events this summer that I planned so things were quickly spiraling out of control in the housekeeping department) and then it was just me and my mom. The phone rang and it was the funeral home saying that they had all of the proper paperwork and with my permission, they'd proceed.

Thanks. I really needed a phone call to confirm that yes, you can cremate my baby and now I'm trapped with the knowledge that you're doing it right now (or within the next 24 hours since you also informed me that I can pick her up tomorrow.)

Breathe. We knew this was what they were going to do and we knew we'd never see her again. Nothing here is a surprise. Just breathe.

All I can say is at this point is I'm glad that it was me who got the call and not DH. He's taking it really hard and didn't have the instant "at your fingertips" support system that I've had. But he's now reaching out to friends and getting the support he needs.

I keep repeating to myself, "one day/hour/minute at a time," but it's funny--that's the only choice we're given in life is to live one day/hour/minute at a time. I say this to give myself permission to change my mind about what I need or want, but it just strikes me as an interesting phrase.

People are always saying it like instructions--just take one day at a time. But to me in my head, I'm kinda like, YAY! Only one day at a time--because god knows I'm not ready to handle more than that.

Oh, and I've also been struck with an unbelievable amount of regret that I just didn't give the baby my maiden name as a middle name. She doesn't have a middle name and I don't know why I didn't think of it since we were considering it for a middle name anyway. *sigh* But there's no point in changing it--It's just a death certificate and not a birth certificate since it was stillborn.

Okie dokie. That's enough for today. TTYL
xoxo