On Our Way to the Funeral Home

How do you choose a burial outfit for your baby? A terrible question. One I asked my friend, who 3 1/2 weeks before Quinn was born, gave birth to a sweet little baby boy with Trisomy 18. He lived for almost 2 hours.

Lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place. Or is that just made-up saying we quote to reassure ourselves against disaster?

I think we all would much rather recite the Lord's Prayer metaphorically than actually walk through the valley of the shadow of death ourselves.

Nothing in Quinn's closet was appropriate. Most of it was hand-me-downs from Helen that I couldn't bear to lose. I didn't have time to sew anything. While I was crying to Jason about it, he gently suggested I make the dress, stating that if I was going to sew for her, now was my chance. We begged God for help.

I found the perfect piece of material in my stash, in a box from cousin Heather. I had been saving it for something special. I closed myself in Quinn's nursery and carefully cut the pieces from the pattern.

Then Life happened--exhaustion set in, kids bickered, visitors came, meals were served and conversation took over. My mom offered to sew the dress if I trusted her enough. I gladly let her.

We tweaked the dress, turning up cuffs and adding rosebuds to the collar. I found a ribbon from my baptismal dress that made a perfect sash.

We knew the tiny dress would swallow Quinn whole, but we also knew it wouldn't be seen. It was the act of making that was therapeutic.

The dress was finished just before our appointment at the funeral home. I got a few quick pictures.