Submitted by Matt
6 months ago, my daughter Lily was born and died. She is my baby girl. From the moment she left us every breath has been painful. Missing her over the last six months, not being able to hold her or feel her soft skin or comfort her when she cries, has been unbearable. To think about a lifetime without her is impossible, and so we’ve lived each day from breath to breath. Our daughter Lehvi will have to continuously learn what it means to live without her baby sister as she grows up, and this alone is enough to break our hearts.
We don’t know exactly when Lily died, but Liza carried her with us for 39 weeks, two days before her delivery was scheduled. Lily died before she was born. The fact that she died before she could take her first breath does not detract from our pain, it increases it immeasurably. There is nothing still about the experience of stillbirth. The violence carried within the moments in a silent delivery room is beyond description. The strength and love that Liza has shown for Lily, Lehvi, and for me by surviving these moments and rebuilding our life with Lily at the center our hearts has astounded me, and I am forever grateful to her for lighting the path for our family.
We have received tremendous support from family and friends. We have also met the most incredible group of loss parents, moms and dads who inspire us with their love for their children and their compassion for us. They have shown me that there will be a day when joy and sadness can coexist in our life, and that Lily will always be here with us. To everyone who has reached out, written, sent cards or food, or asked how we are doing, your love and support have helped us through some of the most difficult days. Thank you for remembering Lily, for saying her name. Lily is and always will be our child, my baby girl, Lehvi’s little sister.
Lily, my baby girl, we love you so so much