The love that is motherhood, the grief that is loss

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The love that is motherhood, the grief that is loss

I had a baby. I had a daughter. Her name was Sahar.

Our firstborn. The most beautiful blessing. The most precious and beautiful little girl I have ever seen. Our daughter. She made me a mother. She made me experience love in it’s purest form. Unconditional.

22 wonderful weeks she spent in my womb. Growing. Living. Moving.
Then… she was gone. Torn from my arms. Taken from this world. Straight to heaven, but away from me.

I stand heartbroken. Robed from happiness. Robbed from love. Robbed from Sahar.

About one month ago our world crashed. We were told we would lose her. That she wouldn’t live.
She would never be with us, she would never cry, never laugh. She would never laugh at the words “peek-a-boo”. She would never say the words “mommy” or “daddy”. She would never hold our hands, hesitating to take a her first step with those unstable little feet.  She would never fall asleep in my arms after a playful day. She would never look at me with big eyes after she’d done something wrong. She would never go to school, make friends, rebel against us, grow up. She would never be that confident strong woman that we envisioned her to be someday.

But that does NOT mean that she never was. She was alright. She was a strong little fighter. A beautiful girl, radiant with love and beauty. She was small, she was little. Nevertheless she left a tremendous impact on this world, and on all those that knew her. She was, and she will forever be. My daughter. My firstborn. My Sahar. Remembered forever by those who loved her.

Love, forever. Love, unconditional. Love, in its purest form.

This blog is here for her. To remember her. To treasure her. To talk about all what I feel because of her. To deal with the grief we experience because of her loss. To maintain the promise I made to her: Be a better me.
Read her story here.



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