Unbreak My Heart

Take back that sad word goodbye
Bring back the joy to my life
Don't leave me here with these tears
Come and kiss this pain away
I can't forget the day you left
Time is so unkind
And life is so cruel without you here beside me

--“Unbreak My Heart,” Toni Braxton

Day 5 postpartum. I half-assed everything I needed to get done. I gawked at the maternity leave forms HR sent me, paid 2 out of 3 bills, got about 5 questions in from my son’s online pre-check-in forms for his upcoming well-child checkup, and called up 2 more mortuaries to check prices. Weird facts I learned through the process of having to arrange a funeral:

• Depending on the mortuary you choose, you may also have to also select a cemetery for internment of the body. Some mortuaries only handle rooms for a memorial service and the actual cremation, but do not have land for a burial or where to commit an urn. However, lots of mortuaries are business partners with, or are owned by, local cemeteries. Therefore, it is possible to get a discount for services purchased across the same “sister mortuary/cemetery.” 
•  Some mortuaries only handle the cremation of adults and not infants.
• “Miscarriage” is the term for a pregnancy loss before 20 weeks’ gestation (what is considered mid-term in pregnancy). “Stillbirth” is the term for a loss after 20 weeks.
• Before the 20^th week, the fetus is thought to not yet feel pain. That is why in certain states, abortion becomes illegal after Week 20.
•  A death certificate is needed for fetal demises occurring at or after Week 20.

Evenings and nights feel a little better. My body is still used to the routine of us being together as a family to unwind after work, of cocooning ourselves in bed to read my son his bedtime stories, enjoying one episode of a show together, and falling asleep. The worst is waking up at any given time from a deep sleep and remembering. The brief disorientation, the dread, the hopelessness.

It poured when I was clipping Luc’s fingernails as he lay sleeping. I went to the window to look at the rain, for a brief bit comforted that it’s an excuse to push off touring cemeteries for Thi. But then a flutter of panic arrests me as I think about her still at the hospital, no mommy and daddy to keep her warm. I went back to bed to seek solace in my son’s warm body. 

Outside, the sky is crying.