On November 16, 2016, at 9:30 pm, after thirteen hours of neurosurgery, I lost my baby girl. She was alive for only fourteen months and three days. When we lost her, we lost so much.
We lost her.
We lost our family. We began from the start as a family of four. That’s gone now.
We lost her first steps, which she was surely days away from taking on her own, but she never will.
We lost seeing her play with her twin sister.
We lost having twins, and only those who have twins can understand that magic.
We lost the tenderness that existed between them from the moment they were born.
We lost hearing Bug and Elbow have their “baby meetings” when they woke up in the morning.
We lost her future and all her potential.
We lost ourselves. We are not the people we were before she died, and we never will be.
We lost a reality. That reality, parents of twins, family of four, daily bliss, is all gone.
We lost our hope for the future. The future is terrifying and hope is impossible.
We lost our hearts. They will be forever broken.
We lost our dream. We worked so hard and for so long to have our family, and too quickly too much of it was taken away.
We lost the amazement and joy she brought to our lives every day.
We lost our sweet baby girl. When she was born, she weighed only 4 lbs. When she died, she was 20 lbs. From the outside, her life appears so little. In the 429 days that we had with our sweet little Bug, she helped to create a world that I never would have believed possible. Just as there are no words that could truly explain the pain of her loss, there are no words to words to explain joy of her presence.
When we lost her, we lost so much.