What Makes a Soul

One of the biggest and best lessons Hailey taught me is that of what makes a soul -- what makes us human, and how we may go on to exist after we pass from this world. Never have I believed more in God, Heaven and an after life.

Before cradling Hailey in my arms as she passed, I'd never been in the room when someone died. I was present when we had to put our family dog down, and sadly, we had to put my cat down the day after we returned home from giving birth to Hailey. Those were very, very sad and hard moments, but not the same as when we buried my grandfather or my aunt.

I have a long history of sobbing when people or animals pass away...it dates back to Old Yeller (who doesn't cry at that?!), Charlotte's Web, and Bambi. It is why I like action movies, because usually only the bad guys die and it isn't too upsetting. In real life, when the people I loved passed away and I attended their wakes and funerals, I floated adrift on a sea of memories of happier times. The thought of how much I was losing clouded my vision and acceptance of what my loved ones were gaining: everlasting peace and freedom from the health concerns that shackled their bodies on Earth.

With Hailey, it was different: perhaps because she was so young and I didn't have a lifetime of memories clouding my vision. Perhaps because I sat in the hospital with her all day, every day, for months. I saw every needle prick, every test, every struggle, every discomfort. By the time it became clear we needed to let Hailey go, I did not mourn. Mourning is an emotion unto ourselves, for what we are losing. My first and predominant emotion was for my child, and it was -- and still is -- relief. Relief that she would no longer have to suffer or fight so hard at a losing battle. Relief that she will know a better life in Heaven and with Our Father.

I know that during her brief life on earth, Hailey knew love. She knew love to the point that in her final days, so many people held her and packed in a lifetime of love on her that she didn't need as much pain medication. And in Heaven, she will finally know a peace unlike anything we could give her here.

When it came time to remove Hailey from life support, it took only short minutes before we heard her delicate voice as she let out the softest and sweetest of sighs. I watched as the spirit left her eyes...it took a few more minutes for her body to officially shut down, but her spirit had already gone and I knew that well. I believe she felt the relief we hoped to give her, and was thankful.

In the following days, we traveled back to my home state of Massachusetts to lay Hailey to rest between my grandfather and aunt. As the wake approached, I felt nervous about how I would feel seeing Hailey again. Baptizing her and letting her go as we did in the hospital chapel had been so perfect for me, and I didn't imagine anything could be more gentle or perfect. And while perhaps most people would not hold an open-casket wake for a baby, I felt strongly that I wanted everyone to see and to know our precious daughter.

The afternoon of the wake, my husband, son and I arrived early to have a private moment with Hailey. To my astonishment, it did not pain me to see her at all. She looked beautiful, laid out in her intricate christening gown and surrounded by colorful blossoms. But I felt as though I was looking at the cocoon of a butterfly after it had emerged and fluttered away. This was not Hailey, but her shell. The daughter I'd known, loved, agonized over and beseeched God for was not there. Even our two-year-old son recognized it. My husband and I had not spoken to him in finite terms about what had happened to his baby sister. He seems too young to truly understand it much, so really, we'd just told him Hailey had gone to the stars. But as I held him in my arms as the priest said a prayer over Hailey, my son looked at Hailey and said quite simply, "Hailey gone."

A young child's eyes are not clouded by mourning. They can see what we as adults often cannot. And in that space and time, Hailey gave me the gift of pulling back the veil shrouding my eyes. For the first time and unlike ever before, I understood what makes us human. What our soul is. That it noticeably leaves. And if it can be here, and I can feel it leave, then it follows that it goes somewhere. I believe like never before in the Grace of Heaven. I believe in our Hailey Grace.