April 24th 2013. I was the happiest pregnant mom out there. Came back home after my prenatal yoga class and was happily surprised by hubby who had just bought the two most cozy and relaxing steamer chairs available to enjoy in our garden. That and a freshly made smoothie were awaiting me when I got home. Is he the best or what? We spent the rest of the evening relaxing and talking about our little girl… How she would grow up and play in the garden while we watched her, how we she could use my niece’s trampoline, and so much more…
The day after was a whole different thing. We had planned to go and watch Iron Man 3 together, since that’s our movie. On our first date we went to see Iron Man 2 and Iron Man has had a special significance for us since then. From Iron Man 2, to Iron Man 3. In 3 years, we went from a first date, to moving in together, getting married, buying a house together and expecting our first child. It had been a busy 3 but extremely loving years for us, and we wanted to celebrate that. We never got there. We lived through our worst nightmare instead.
We haven’t been apart for a minute since Sahar was diagnosed. Except from going to the bakery that is, and that only happened if someone else was around. The thought of being without him frightened me. I had already lost one of the most precious persons in my life, I couldn’t handle the thought of losing another. And I know it’s crazy to think that way, but the confrontation with such a terrible and devastating loss, made me realize how easily life can slip through your fingers. So I wanted to be together, every minute of the day, every day.
Unfortunately, time goes by, life goes on, and even we have to get back to real life. Resume our work life, our social life, resume our everyday life. Frank went back to work yesterday. And it was hard. Very hard. I kept myself occupied watching TV, cleaning the house from top to bottom, doing laundry, and more… Sitting down and just thinking was not an option, I would have gone crazy.
I have to start working again next week. And I’m not looking forward to it. Sometimes it feels, that, if I just go on with life, resume work and play, that somehow she will be forgotten. And to some extend that is true. I’m not going to forget her. Frank isn’t going to forget her. My family isn’t going to forget her. My closest and best friends won’t either. But part of the world will. No one will ask how my pregnancy is going. No one will ask if she’s slept through the night. No one will ask if she’s starting to walk already. Many people will even forget her name. And as much as that hurts me (I can’t even begin to say how much!), there’s little I can do about it.
What I can and will do, is remember her with my husband, family and friends. What I will do, is continue sharing her story here with you. What I will do, is honor her memory in any way I can: visit her grave, build her memorial space here at home, light a candle for her, celebrate her angelversaries (1 month coming up this friday…), talk about her daily, help other mothers out there that are going through the same loss… and any other thing that I can do, I will do. For her. She’s not visible to the outside world anymore in the form of a little child, but I will make her visible, and present in our lives and in that of everyone I know by doing all these things. Because for me, she will always be there. In my thoughts, in my hearts, Sahar will always be with us. And I want the world to know it.
Every person I can get to remember her, is a complete blessing. Every person that remembers that my firstborn was a girl named Sahar, is a blessing. Every person that remembers her angelversary, will be forever in my heart. Every person that realizes that this loss will be a lifetime grief, will truly understand me. I will break the silence, every day. I had a girl, her name was Sahar. She will always be my girl, and I will always be her mother. She will always be loved, she will always be in our hearts and thoughts. And that way, she will live forever.