Today I took E and went out to the cemetery where B was buried. My dad brought me a little mini Christmas tree last week, and I went to the dollar store and bought some little ornaments for it. Also, an old family friend who I used to babysit for ran into my dad while he was shopping for the tree, and he updated her on what was going on in my life. She gave him a beautiful nativity ornament for B! So I put that out there too. It turned out beautifully, if I do say so myself! I was hoping to get some good pictures of E, but he was sort of irritable so I didn't get many.
The Nativity ornament
The grave from far away.. tinsel around the little hook, and the mini Christmas tree at the bottom.
The little tree! Kind of blends in with the grass, sorry :)
Her temporary marker.
After I was done decorating, E got really fussy and I needed to feed him. I didn't want to leave yet, so I just whipped out a bottle of pumped milk and fed him right there next to her grave. While I was just sitting there, an elderly lady and a younger girl (maybe my age - twenty something) came and filled the vase of poinsettias on their loved ones' grave with water. They looked over at me and I gave them a small smile. Just before they left, they approached me.
The older of the two women asked me, "Who did you lose, dear?" in the kindest voice. I said, "My daughter," and the younger woman kind of gasped and put her hand over her mouth. They asked me the usual questions - how old was she, how did she die. I told them the short version, and the older woman told me that the grave next to the one with the poinsettias was her son's grave. He was born 3 months early - the same as B - in 1964. He lived for 8 hours. (B lived for 46 hours.) I was so thankful that she shared her story with me, and it's amazing that there's another little preemie so close to B! I like to think that they're friends in heaven.