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Today we buried Mark Edward.  Father Richard was so wonderful.  We placed the box with Mark Edward in front of the altar during mass. 

The first time Father mentioned Mark Edward, I cried.  The tears kept coming throughout the mass.  Brother cried as I cried.  Father Richard said, during the homily, that Mark had lived his purpose on earth even though we may never know what that purpose is.  I believe that and take comfort in it.  After the final blessing at mass, we followed Father Richard, Father Peter and the Deacon out of church to the rosary garden where other babies are buried.  Brother carried Mark the entire way.  He placed him in the ground.  Father sprinkled some holy water.  He said some beautiful prayers, a Hail Mary, and Angel of God.  I cried.  A lot. 

I think of him out there and I just can't stand it.  I'm restless.  I don't know what to do next. 

My dearest friends were there and gave me all I needed, hugs and love.

One of my very dear friends who is also an expert knitter gave me the box and prepared the interior.  She also gave me what she had knit of the beautiful baby shawl she had planned on giving me for Mark.  Isn't it beautiful?

Even if I think it should stop for a bit.  Ben's been a trooper and has stayed home from work.  He will return to work after we bury the baby tomorrow.  We've decided to name him, Mark Edward.  Brother chose his middle name.  I think it goes well together.  There a few things I've been pondering the past two days:

• Medical schools need to teach compassion.  It's not just a pregnancy you're seeing on the ultrasound, it's a baby.  It doesn't make it any easier for the mom when you call it a pregnancy.  There's no detachment for the mother.  It's very painful.  And, doctors, listen to your patients.  When I say, I'm 11 weeks pregnant, believe me.  Especially when I insist my dates are absolutely correct.
• The inauguration was on in the waiting areas.  Not what I really wanted to see.  What I saw bothered me.  Why?  They interviewed Kenyans who lived in Obama's father's hometown.  They kept saying it was the best day ever because an African was going to be the President.  No.  An American is going to be President.
• I have the best friends, ever, on-line and here in my community.  All the prayer support has been wonderful.  My friends here have been by with meals, cookies and hugs and many have called to lend their support.  Thank you, dear friends.  I've really needed you all. 
• The love and joy my children felt for this baby was so real.  They're grieving with me but as with most children, they are resilient.  Honey has gone right back to praying for "twin boy babies".  From your lips to God's ears, my sweet girl.  Brother remarked that the good news is that I'd stop throwing up in the mornings.  Sister has had the hardest time–she sobbed when I told her.  She still tears up.  I would've spared her if I could.
• I'm still very excited for my friends who are pregnant.  It was difficult for me last time.  I hope my friends will continue to share their pregnancy with me without feeling like they need to tiptoe around me.
• Wow!  It hurts.  A friend told me it's being in labor.  Well, it's been about 10 years since I've felt any real strong contractions having had planned c-sections for the girls.  I was close to begging for some real pain killers–something stronger than ibuprofen.  It was such a surprise to me.  The doctor needs to be educated on what a cramp feels like.  That's not a cramp.
• Life does go on.  Even if I can't remember the date.

Thank you to everyone who has sent their support by commenting or just by praying.  We will bury the baby tomorrow after daily mass in the rosary garden at church at around 9:30 CST.