Step One

Yesterday was Mazzy’s funeral. Or, memorial? Whatever they call services when an urn sits at the front of the room playing the roll of a bright, vibrant child that doesn’t exist anymore. Adam and I chose to have her cremated because we are selfish and even though her spirit is gone, her bones and ash can come with us no matter what happens in the future. We realize that she is dead, but we have absolutely no idea how to be anything but her parents. We want to be the ones that take care of her.

It is weird how quickly that happens. That change. We have been sitting around looking at each other blankly. We didn’t do anything without her. Who are we supposed to be, now?

I think about all the stupid shit that people say when you are a parent. I think about how grandparents always follow up any parenting choices you disagree with them about with a hearty, “I managed not to kill you” and I just …. I still sit here, knowing that my daughter died and refuse to think they were right. I am that kind of asshole. I can’t ever say that I kept my baby alive.

I know that it wasn’t anything that we did. She was fine. The croup was clearing up and she was breathing fine at three in the morning when I checked on her. She just left. She stopped. Mazzy got all the love she could need and she left. I still can’t say that we were a success.

People keep saying over and over how great Adam and I were as parents. I have heard how proud people are and I keep waiting for that space in between. I wait for that one person that says, “You guys were amazing parents. Except for that time she died in the other room while you were selfishly sleeping.” But they don’t. Who knew? People are always surprising me.

We have already been hit with the seriously inappropriate, “You need to have another baby.” Really? Because it hasn’t even been a week since Mazzy took her last breath and you think I am anywhere close to being naked with my husband, let alone get pregnant so that I can constantly compare my new baby to my dead baby. I figure that it wouldn’t be completely fair. They don’t seem to think so. People loved Mazzy. They want another chance to love a baby, I guess. Apparently people are praying that we get pregnant, like, next month. I, for one, think that praying people get laid is seriously wrong. It is like abusing power, or something.

A lot of people would use therapy. I might. In the meantime I will just open my mouth and spit whatever is in my head out at the Internet and if people don’t like it I will just play the dead baby card and see who backs down first.