The due date: At one time, it was considered a much anticipated day of new life. That is how it was supposed to be, but it’s not how it is for everyone.
Instead, it has become a day of lament because my daughter was born still at 23 weeks.
If she were alive, the nursery would have held a crib, a rocking chair, and a changing table. Instead, it is an empty room that holds my sobs and my tears.
If she were alive, I would have celebrated her arrival with a baby shower. Instead, I asked friends to weep with me over her tiny casket.
If she were alive, I would be praying that God would grant us grace to survive new parenthood. Instead, I ask Him why He chose not to save her.
If she were alive, I might already be holding her–watching her as she breathes. Instead, I tell myself to breathe, longing for someone to hold me.
If she were alive, I would be up all hours of the night, caring for her life. Instead, my nights are filled with anguished dreams of death.
If she were alive, my days would be full–all efforts dedicated to my daughter’s being. Instead, I am emptied by rage at the injustice of death–death, that stole my daughter from me.
If she were alive, I would hear her cries, her breath, and eventually her laughter. Instead, there is deafening silence.
If she were alive… but she is not. Am I?
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Alexis is the mother of Lanya, lost at seven weeks, and Zoe, born still at 23 weeks in June 2016. She and her husband, Yan, live in Silver Spring , MD
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My daughter was stillborn at 26 weeks 18 years ago, in August 1998. Her due date was November 14th, so this post really spoke to me. I still think about all these years later, knowing it would have been her birthday right about now.
This spoke to me in so many ways. I lost my daughter almost 11 months ago at 34 weeks. She had a broken heart and lived for two hours and 20 minutes after birth and passed. I’m still struggling each and every day.