Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...

Today was the day.  Here's a summary from an email I wrote earlier-I don't have the strength in me to redo it:

I got the heart pendant this afternoon, and it's EXACTLY what I wanted!  It's small, but beautiful.  I'm wearing it now, and I'll be taking it to the funeral home this weekend to get it filled with her ashes.  It has her name etched on one side, year on the other.  I can't tell you all thank you enough-you have NO idea how much this has touched me.  Or how comforting it is to know I'll forever have a piece of her w/ me (outside of my heart).  The cross pendant was filled, and Alex is keeping it.  He's not sure if he's going to wear it or put it in his car...either way, he's very happy to have a piece of her, as well.   As for the service today... we got there and the first person I saw was my Aunt, whom I haven't seen in over a year.  Behind her, 2 women from my church (haven't attended in over a year-had a falling out with God and His minister of choice...new ministers there now).  My best friend Kim was there, and a gal I met online awhile back who also attended my babyshower was there w/ her husband and youngest child.  I was talking to them when I turned and saw a man belonging to my church that was youth director wayyyyy back when I joined.  I went to him and he put his big arms around me and I just cried like a baby.  My brother was supposed to come-we tried waiting for him, as well as Alex's brother.  We both called and left messages for them, but had to start the service.  The minister said a couple of prayers, a couple of pretty scriptures.  He blessed her ashes, then ended the service.  I had been holding up fairly well-then he came over to me and held my hand and said that if I ever need him or the church...well, whatever he said after that, I didn't hear...I just cried and cried.  I was saying the final acknowledged goodbye to my baby after 9 months (and many years prior to that) of waiting for her.  It has officially sank in, but there was a small sigh of relief that this part of the grieving process is done.  It's now private...I don't have to make appearances for this anymore.  Well, everyone left pretty quickly, leaving Alex, myself, mom, andKaitlynne.  Mom had brought a flower and Kaitlynne said she wanted to give it to Kevin (her brother).  He's inturred in a sundial with his mother in the cemetary, along with Kaitlynne's paternal grandparents.  We drove back and we got out (not Alex), went and visited their sites (Kevin's had a picture on it-that was kind of nice, someone had tied a school picture on it).  We then left and got lunch (crazy, I know..most of this afternoon is a blur to me).  Mom took Kaitlynne back to our house, while Alex and I ran the piddly little errands we had to run...and just took comfort in being together.  I found out that he had not talked to me yesterday because I left for the morning and didn't leave him a note.  It wasn't meant to bother him, I was trying to leave him alone so he could get some sleep.  Anywho..we were together today...and we'll be together every day.  I mentioned to my Aunt today that Alex is a keeper, and all the gals standing around said, "Oh yes, we've heard all about him!", and my Aunt adds, "And he's so cute, too!"...LOL.   Anywho...the day is over.  The pain is not.  I left the hospital with no child..just a 'consolation prize' folder containing small but GIANT memories of Marissa.    I'd love to thank my friends...all of you.  The one's who live down the road, across town, across the world.  You all think that there's nothing you can do to help me...but you all have helped me more then you'll ever know.  Nothing will take the place of our daughter....the road ahead is rough, but with you all, we'll make it.  Here's the quote in my message-board signature..it's been a great source of comfort to me:   "Lord, I wanted to hold my little one on my lap
& tell her about You.
But since I never had that chance,
Will You please hold her on Your lap &
tell her about me?"

To Marissa, my sweet baby girl.  People tell me they're sorry I didn't get to know you-that's not necessarily true.  I know you liked subway, hated hot baths.  You thought it was fun to kick the remote of my stomach, preferred I lay on my right side.  I don't get to see you smile, hear you laugh or say 'mommy' or 'daddy', feel your cheek against my lips as I kiss you goodnight...  No, it's not fair.  I have to know that you are with me, I just can't see you.  And that we'll all be together soon enough.  I love you-I wish I had been able to tell you that in the hospital-but I was in such shock that such a beautifully perfect baby wasn't coming home with us.  We'll forever miss what you were to us, and what we had hoped you'd be.  We love you, angelbaby.  Help us get thru this.  Please.