was she here?” It bothered Annie to know that Eric’s sister had been there when she’d been in the hospital. Terri never thought that Annie’s housekeeping skills were good enough; she always found fault with something and then took it upon herself to report it in detail to the rest of the family. Annie had no idea what shape the house had been in – she’d had other things on her mind.
“She offered to come over and straighten things up before you came home, so you wouldn’t have to worry about it. I thought it was pretty nice of her.”
“I guess so.” She tried to choose her words carefully, not wanting to put Eric on the defensive about his sister. “I just don’t remember how messy it was -”
He interrupted her. “It’s fine – it wasn’t that bad. She just wanted to help.” The tension in his voice was so brittle she was afraid it would shatter and cover the floor with shards of what had been their life before all of this had happened. She feared that if that happened, they would never be able to piece it back together again. It struck her as ironic that her life had become a metaphor for Humpty Dumpty. Were they going to be broken forever?
“Okay – sorry. That was really kind of her. I just -”
“I know – you just.” He went back outside to have a cigarette, letting the screen door slam behind him.
Annie sighed and walked into the living room. Everything felt so empty – the house, the room, her arms. She sank down onto the couch and put her head in her hands. What was going to happen to them? How were they going to get through this? Her heart pounded in her chest as the questions raced through her head. She grabbed a pillow that was nearby and held it tightly, needing to hold onto something because it hurt too much not to.
Her thoughts drifted to Dillon. She wondered what it would have been like if everything had been all right and he had been born strong and healthy. What would be the first thing she’d do when they brought him home? She imagined bringing him into the nursery, gently laying him on the changing table and kissing his little toes when she unwrapped the receiving blanket. Eric would be there next to her, marveling at his newborn little boy, beaming with pride.
Cigarette smoke wafted in through the screen door from the backyard and brought her back to reality. Giving the pillow another squeeze, she stood up and walked to the spare bedroom. She’d been keeping the few baby things she had gotten in the closet since it had been too soon to prepare the nursery. She needed to go through them, to hold them and touch them. She needed a tactile connection to Dillon that only the little undershirts and sleepers could provide. He’d never worn them, but it seemed to be the only way she could feel close to him right now.
Her heart started beating wildly when she opened the closet door. Where were all the baby things? She was sure she had stacked them in a neat little pile on a box in the left hand corner. The box was there, but the baby clothes were gone. Annie felt her face flush as she searched every nook and cranny for the missing items. Maybe she had absent-mindedly put them in the back of the closet or on the right-hand side. Perhaps she’d stuck them up on the shelf and had forgotten about it. She dragged a step stool out from behind the garment bag of winter coats, and climbed up onto it to get a better view of the top shelf. Frantic now, she felt as though she was not just looking for little t-shirts, but for Dillon himself. For a split second she hoped that she’d actually find him, snuggled up in the corner, but then realized how crazy that was.
Am I losing my mind? She comforted herself with the thought that if she really were crazy, she wouldn’t be able to even ask the question. But where were those damn baby clothes?
She smelled Eric approaching before she saw him – the cigarette smoke announced his arrival. Before he could say anything, she confronted him. “Where are the baby clothes? Where are Dillon’s things?” Tears stung her eyes and she felt as though she was going to be sick.
Eric sighed heavily at the sight of her rummaging around in the closet and again shook his head, in what she interpreted as disgust.
“Would you please relax?” he said, the impatience in his voice nipping at her soul. “Terri thought it would upset you to have them here.”
“So, where are they?” It was so hard to maintain civility and control.
He lowered his head a little and muttered, “I don’t know. I just told her to take them away. I thought it would be too hard on you to see them.”
Try as she might to hear the words he was saying, all that came across was that he meant well. Terri meant well. The chaplain meant well. Was the future going to be dominated by those who meant well but who were tearing out her heart in the process?
She wanted to shout at him. ‘Last night I held our dead baby in my arms. What could be harder than that?” She wanted to, but she didn’t. He was hurting too. It wouldn’t be fair to lash out and cause more pain. Instead she pictured herself as a huge, almost empty duffle bag into which she’d stuff the hurt, pain, and sadness. Putting her feelings there would be so much easier on everyone, at least for now.
They decided that a small graveside service would be best, since he had “never really lived” and “no one had ever known him”. Annie didn’t really have a say in the decision and years later could never remember how it had all transpired. Their priest had said that it was what was typically done in “situations like this” and they just obediently followed his directions. Money was also an issue. Funerals were expensive.
The morning after Dillon was born, while Annie had still been in the hospital, Eric and his mother had gone to the funeral home to make the arrangements. She wasn’t even told about it until after everything was in order, another attempt to protect her from something that would be too hard on her. She felt cheated out of making those important final decisions about her baby, but dismissed it as being a good thing for Eric to be able to do for Dillon. He hadn’t known him in the intimate way she did during the pregnancy, so maybe this would be a way he could feel some closeness.
The funeral was on Monday, two days after he had been born. Annie couldn’t fit into any of her regular clothes yet and didn’t feel up to shopping, so she had to wear one of her maternity dresses. She chose a navy blue sleeveless one, since it was a close to black as she could get. It was a warm day, a balmy eighty degrees.
Even though it wasn’t supposed to be a “real” funeral, they had a little procession from their house to the cemetery. Eric had a large family, so there was more than just a handful of people. It was thoughtful of them to come, but Annie felt as though some of them were there out of curiosity more than concern. If nothing else, they just wanted to see how she and Eric would cope at their baby’s funeral. She might have done the same thing, so she tried not to judge them. She ached with longing for Sally and Frank. Their absence magnified the emptiness within her.
The line of cars wound its way around the graceful curves of the cemetery. Just when Annie thought they’d be stopping, there was yet another curve to go around and follow. Finally Eric pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car. He turned off the engine.
“Well,” he said, looking straight ahead through the windshield, “here we are.”
Annie looked out the window and saw the decorative sign that labeled this section of the cemetery: “Babyland.” It gave her chills at first, but then she felt an odd sort of comfort and camaraderie. All the babies who had been put to rest here had parents who were feeling just like she and Eric were at that very moment. It helped her feel less alone and gave her the strength she needed to get out of the car.
“It looks nice,”
