The End of "Ups and Downs" (TMI and graphic, personal content)

I haven’t been able to finish this story until now.
What came out of me was my baby in his fluid-filled sac. I could see the tiny body. Kyle didn’t want to look. I told him we couldn’t bury the baby in the sac, it just wasn’t right. So he gets his pocket knife and we repture the sac. I hold my tiny, precious baby. I see his eyes, arms, legs, fingers, toes… even the ear buds where ears were supposed to form. He is as small as the tip of my pinky to the first knuckle. I hold him for a while, scared to really touch him. I convince Kyle to look eventually. Then we wrap him in another bit of Kyle’s shirt and place him in the little white jewelry box we found earlier.
My pain has subsided and I rested in the warm water of the tub, still. Kyle is still holding my hand. He asks if it’s ok if he goes and has a beer and I tell him “YES! You deserve it!” I’m too scared to get out of the tub so he gets his beer then comes back to sit with me. He fills the tub with warmer water for the tenth time of the day, I’m sure. We sit and talk about our thoughts and feelings for an hour or so. My sister comes over and I drape washclothes over me while we talk. After some time, I decide that I’m completely famished and waterlogged so I ask her to go grab me some clothes. I carefully stand up and dry off. I’ve never been more “pruned” in my life. I look at the clock and see that it’s past 9. I’ve been in the tub for HOURS.
I go to the bedroom and cuddle up in bed with Kyle next to me and my sister at our feet. We talk for a bit and then I guess I drift off to sleep. I’m fairly sure I wake up crying during the night and Kyle consoles me. This isn’t the first time and not the last that I wake up this way.
Friday comes around and we sleep in. It’s still raining so our plans to bury the baby are put off until another day. We absent-mindedly watch movies and eat when we finally get hungry. I feel empty, barren and worthless. We waste the day in a emotionless blur.
Saturday we are stir crazy and decide to go to Houston to the bookstore. I can’t find any books about miscarriages and finally get the guts to ask for help. The employee asks me to repeat my request a few times, each time I get a stabbing pain in my chest. Finally he gets what I asked for and seeks out the ONLY THREE BOOKS ON THE TOPIC. I was outraged. They have six shelves of cook books, section after section of fiction books but only three books on miscarriage? We buy two of the three. I decided I didn’t need the “Getting Pregnant After Your Miscarriage” book just yet. I also find a cute little baby milestone book and Kyle says it’s ok if I get it as well. We’ll need it one day. We spend the day trying to act normal and just spend time together.
Earlier in the week I’d asked Kyle’s parents if they wanted to come up Sunday after church and they obliged. Conincidentally the rain hadn’t let up Saturday and we still hadn’t buried the baby. I spend Saturday evening in the “nursery” lying on the bed reading my books. We had a changing table from a friend with Kyle’s baby blanket on it and had the little white box resting there. It made me feel a little better to just be in the room with the baby, even though he was gone. We decide to bury the baby after church before Kyle’s parent get there.
Sunday morning comes too soon and we rush off to church. I barely listen but I hear Pastor Jake mention our story during the children’s message. He said he had talked with a very sad family earlier this week and looked up at us. I don’t know how I didn’t lose it in church but we make it. Back home we realize it’s time to bury the baby. No more excuses. The rain has stopped and the yard isn’t as waterlogged anymore.
Kyle grabs a shovel and digs a hole under the big purple bush like we eventually decided. The first hole isn’t good enough so he digs one on the other side. We find this one suitable and go inside to collect the little white box. Since Thursday I had collect a few little trinkets that I wanted to bury with the baby. We gather a few more items and once we feel satisfied we sit down to compose ourselves. In front of us sits the white box, two tiny fishing lures, some little sunflowers, a bit of burlap, a bullet casing and a picture of Kyle and I with some sentiments written on the back. I didn’t want to have the box covered in muddy dirt so we had a small towel to wrap everything up in. At the last minute Kyle goes back in his room to grab a 12th Man towel. It’s perfect. We cry. I wrap everything up and we carry it outside. I set the bundle in the hole but don’t want Kyle to put the muddy dirt in yet. I laugh at myself for saying it but I blurt out “Not that dirt… it’s too dirty.” We laugh at ourselves and our situation for a mintue then reality sets back in. I grab a pot of planting soil and we use that. Kyle breaks down and sobs for the second time during this whole ordeal. He is so strong but it helps me to support him and dry his tears.
We head back inside and wait for Kyle parents.

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