All Cause Wounds: Infant urns and keepsake boxes and pottery plates

There seems to be no end to the amount of wounds that are caused after the official one-that one that really matters; the death of my son, The urn that we picked out in the hospital was shipped to us....but it was not the right one. SOOOOOOO then we spend hours on the computer trying to find an infant urn for Wyatt to be in. The act itself is psychologically odd. We are picking out the materials, statues and emblems that Wyatt's remains will live in forever. Making this choice is the most painful choice I've ever made, since everyone knows Wyatt was supposed to live with me...in the house. There are thousands of urns to pick from, mostly by style; teddy bear holding a small urn, shiny, pastel "ABC" blocks or a blue baby booties. Generally you need one cubic square per one pound of body weight. Wyatt required 2 cubic squares of room. We decided on a urn with a picture that brings peace to my heart whenever I look at it.The urn itself was a little larger than the one Wyatt needed; It was 40 cubic squares, but is small and beautiful. It's a mohagany wood block and that has an applique on the front depicting two angels tucking in a baby to sleep. This is the only picture I could fathom on my son's urn and I am so thankful that it's there. It shows me someone else is taking care of Wyatt in the same way that I would have. Not that I wouldn't take those angel's jobs any moment; I'd take my little son back down to earth and into our home where he is supposed to be. Then again, if heaven really is that great, maybe I'd just stay up there with him. We could cuddle every night and I'd talk to him all day. I still have some milk, too, I wonder if he would nurse. I know there's no hunger but I'd really like to nurse Wyatt. This train of thought has me dreaming of being in heaven with Wyatt. I've always believed in heaven but it doesn't seem like a great place with Wyatt being alone. I take comfort in the thought of being there with him-just me and my boy up in heaven....*sigh* Just the thought of cradling him again lifts me like a butterfly. But here in reality we sat in the cremation society and handed over our carefully picked wooden urn. I was shocked when in just three minutes the urn was handed back to us with more weight to it. Wyatt?? My heart dropped. His body doesn't exist anymore. Even his lifeless body isn't there to go pick up if I wanted to. It was all right here in our box on my lap. As we left my husband and I nit-picked over fingerprints in the wood and how to carry it. He kissed the urn but it didn't look as nice as kissing my son's golden head. Carrying Wyatt home in my lap was heart-wrenching. No one ever wants their son in a box, I would rather have strapped him into an infant seat. As we left, the lady who worked there told us that she had lost twins and knew how we felt. Well, there's one more person in my club. I'm slowly losing faith in the durability of the creation of life itself.
A week before Wyatt passed I purchased an infant keepsake box for him, just like his sisters have. In the girl's boxes I have put their hospital hats and clothes and bracelets and all the cards and well wishes that we had received. Now that things have changed, in Wyatt's I put all the sympathy and condolence cards that we've received, plus thoughts and prayers and well wishes from a large network of people who were praying for him. Wyatt also has a hospital hat- it's half the size of the others, bracelets from the NICU and two small cards where there are beautiful Wyatt hand and foot prints, Another small card states the date and time of birth and death. One nurse gave us the picture off our door-the leaf with the tear and a poem on the back. That will go in there, too. A friend crochet an infant hat for him when we thought he would live, but he did get to wear it for one day. That hat will be safely stowed away. I didn't know what closet to put his keepsake box in. The girl's boxes are in the girl's closests. Wyatt would have had a closet as well. I suppose for now it will go in my closet.
I received a box a week ago from a friend down in Florida. The kids and I had taken a trip down there and stopped at a pottery store. We painted two large plates for the parents and four small plates for the kids. We got all the plates painted and then put all of our handprints and names in middle. They looked super. Since my husband and Wyatt were not there those two plates were taken home with paint so that Tyler and Wyatt could do their hand prints and finish the set. We were very proud of our new family project. These colorful plates were a sign of our family and would be displayed around the house. There was nothing but more pain as my husband and I opened the box to see the plates several days after Wyatt had passed. All of the plates had come out beautifully, but then there was Wyatt's plate, blank and wrapped up all alone, just waiting for a handprint and name. It was one more sign of the emptiness.We piled the plates on top of the fridge not knowing what to do with them. We are still redefining who are family is and how many of us there are. How much Wyatt is included in household decor seems to vary based on where we are in our grieving. Put up pictures everywhere? Write Wyatt's name on the plate anyway and put it up? How do you cherish and remember a baby that you lost without decorating the house in a way that's as if they are physically present all the time?