Then Charlotte died.
We were faced with so many decisions in such a short time...the very last of which being what to do with her remains. What does one do with the ashes of one's dead child when one has a toddler running around? Seriously. This is a problem.
So the question of what to do with the pretty, little, heart-shaped, angel box, the box I would have hated exactly one day before she died but then somehow found perfect as soon as I learned my daughter's heart stopped, forced my hand on purchasing a curio cabinet. I'm actually OK with this. It came today, and I'm really happy.
It was bothering me to leave her remains in her keepsake box. I tried to get a nice box, a box that would give the mementos of her life a sense of dignity...but that wasn't good enough for HER...she deserves better than to be boxed away, hidden somewhere. To do that is to lessen her importance, I think, because one wouldn't do that in any other circumstance.
There's so many times in this where I think, "I wouldn't do this in any other circumstance." This is a singularly bizarre experience. So isolating...so confusing....so...I don't even know.
So I finally have a place for Charlotte's remains. She gets her own shelf in the curio...her remains, my favorite black and white photo, hand and foot prints, and a little figurine of an angel holding a butterfly that a friend of mine bought me just because a few weeks ago. It all seems like such a paltry little collection of things, but it felt good to give her a real home...one that puts her in a place of importance.