We went to Wausau last weekend to meet up with my parents for a short visit. The cemetery is in Wausau. We haven’t been there since we buried Henryk.

The cemetery has strange feelings for us. On the one hand, we really don’t feel that much of an attachment to going there because we saw Henryk die and felt so clearly that the part of him that we really knew was gone. His soul that we so deeply connected with was no longer in that body, and so that body didn’t feel like it was Henryk anymore.

However, the day of the funeral, when it actually came to burying him I totally lost it. I mean crying, sobbing, wailing lost it to see him being put in the ground. And last weekend, when we could’ve gone to the cemetery, we felt that again. Even though it isn’t Henryk anymore, it still is the body that was created in and lived inside my own body for 40 weeks. It is still the body that we held for five and a half months and that smelled like Huggies wipes, breast milk, and J.R. Watkins baby lotion.

Everything hard that we have had to do in the past had such a purpose. It was hard but accomplished some thing or another for him. But it isn’t like that anymore. Henryk doesn’t care if we go to the cemetery or not. So four weeks to the day after he died we drove past the cemetery without stopping, and came home. We just couldn’t do it and we didn’t have to.

It reminds me so much of praying for Henryk. One of the most startling things for me after he died was how many times, all day long every day I would start praying for Henryk and then stop because he was dead and I didn’t need to pray for him anymore. It made me realize how very constantly I was crying out to God for him. And then, all of a sudden, that was over. You really can’t pray for your children after they are dead. But the amazing thing about it is that we don’t have to because Henryk is doing just fine. In fact, he’s doing great. And we can still pray to Jesus about how much we miss him, and maybe he’ll tell Henryk for us.