Angel Babies And What Others Call Them

I am very active on a parenting website. I have found it to be extremely helpful and supportive, not only now, but through the past 4 or 5 years. My favorite thing to do on this site is debate. I have always loved to debate, and have had so much fun debating with other moms. We debate and talk about every day things and parenting issues and I have learned so much from this particular site.
Recently a debate came up that was close to my heart because of my recent loss. The debate was about the term "corpse" in regards to our angel babies. Women that have experienced a loss are rightfully upset about this term. The words "corpse" or "cadaver" are not words we want associated with our children, they can sting. They are just words descriptive of reality, but sometimes, when reality stings this much, it is best to use softer words.
This debate has been weighing on my mind. I did comment on my own feelings and I worried after that my feelings may have hurt someone. My feelings are a little bit different than those that other angel mommies had.
I don't think that my daughter is a corpse. She is not. She is an angel, my sweet little angel. Her spirit is not buried there in the ground, her soul is where ever I am, where ever Steve is, where ever Dayne is. She is everywhere that we are, whenever we need her to be. I came to think of this after that first night, when it was so windy and I barely slept. I worried all night. When my grandma read this blog and saw me talking about it, she sent me an email. She told me that when my Grand-dad had passed away she felt the same way. She said she felt better about things when she thought about him as his spirit, rather than his body.
When my Grandma told me that, it made something click. My daughter is buried in the cemetery, but SHE is not, her spirit is not there, the most important part of her is not there. The burial was our way of saying goodbye. The plot a familiar place to visit, to spend time with our daughter. Like when you get together with family at a familiar place. My daughter is not stuck in the cemetery, not living there, she's not even there most of the time. Most of the time, she's with me, she's here with me. That makes me feel better.
But still, I picture her playing with the other angel babies in the cemetery and still it bothers me to think that people may run across her grave. Perhaps it's that, that is her special place, and like any other mom, I don't want her special place ruined for her.
I wonder if I will get to tell her all of this one day. All of my thoughts about her, all of my dreams. For now, I will meet her at the cemetery and tell her everything that comes to my mind. Perhaps that way, when we meet again, she will be all caught up.