I'm worn out.
We chose Thomas' stone this morning. It's a beautiful, deep, reddish-pink granite and it will have a small angel cuddling with a lamb engraved in the bottom left corner. Before he was born my Mom bought Thomas a soft little praying lamb that played "Jesus Loves Me". It was a shower gift, actually. I used to wind it up and hold it against my belly so Thomas could hear it. I remember my Mom singing that little hymn to me when I was small, and I hoped hearing it would help Thomas find comfort in its familiar tune after he was born if he was ever scared or sad.
Now it's me finding comfort in a small engraved lamb and angel that will be on his grave marker.
I hate every single second of this.
I came home and cried. I cried until I thought my head was going to explode and the wall I was leaning it against was stained with mascara and tears. A very good friend told me she knew Thomas was with me today, so I held out my hand and told him to take it.
It should be the other way around. I should be looking after HIM - wiping HIS tears and soothing HIS cries. But instead I'm calling on him for strength to help me get through this life without him.
This is just so wrong. I feel like I'll be shaking my head in anguished awe for the rest of my life.
PLAYING IN GOD'S GARDEN
AND SLEEPING IN THE ARMS OF THE ANGELS.
THOMAS JOSEPH Z____
MARCH 9 - MARCH 10 2005
PRECIOUS SON OF S____ AND K______
WE WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU.