The Memorial

I haven't written about the memorial until now because I haven't been ready to put my fingers to the keys. The memorial was healing in many ways and eye opening in others. 

I went in front of the congregation, family and friends and declared my love for my daughter. It is incredibly empowering to cry out about the injustice of losing my baby and for people to not just hear me, but to really listen. Her daddy and I played her song, "Loud Like Love" by Placebo for everyone. I thought the song would bring tears to my eyes and was completely relieved how happy I felt listening to it. I imagined her rocking out with her new angel baby friends like she did in my belly whenever we played it. 

I was touched by the amount of people who came to her memorial. I had pictures of her in a photo album I put together and everyone looked at her little face and commented on how beautiful she looked. In those ways, it was incredibly healing. 

In other ways, my eyes have been opened to how incredibly cruel people can be when you least expect it. Genevieve's daddy's best friend brought his infant daughter to the memorial service. He was asked on multiple occasions to not bring her, and he did. It felt like being slapped in the face. During her daddy's eulogy, the baby started to fuss. Her fuss was taunting us as a constant reminder that we would never hear our baby make those sounds. It was horrible. Genevieve's God Mother asked them to leave after I had enough. The couple didn't even realized how disrespectful bringing a baby to another baby's memorial is to the dead baby's parents. It is even worse when the parents specifically asked for them to not bring their baby.  

After the memorial, the "friend" told us that he was sorry for leaving early, but the baby was fussy. We were shocked that he was so dense to not understand why we were upset. Genevieve's daddy swiftly pointed out that him leaving was for the best since we were horrified he brought his daughter to our daughter's memorial. They haven't talked since. It's difficult enough to lose a child, it's even worse that we lose friends and family members over it too. 

I was also horrified to hear one of the two pastors tell everyone that Genevieve and I both had hepatitis. I don't have hepatitis, and Genevieve didn't have hepatitis. I don't have a reason as to why she died, but it definitely wasn't because of hepatitis. Now many of my friends and family think I have hepatitis and that's why she died. Fun. It was like a scene out of a bad sitcom. 

I love my baby, and her daddy and I honored her, even if others didn't.  I suppose this is all part of the grief journey I must travel.