I haven’t written anything for a while. In fact, it’s been over a year. It’s always been normal for me to take long breaks from this platform, whether that’s a few weeks or even a few months. This is the first time I’ve had a good reason.
Over the next little while, I’m going to be sharing the story of my daughter’s birth as well as her death. It isn’t an easy story to tell but I feel that, on some deeper level, its telling will be therapeutic for me. I’ve told my story to many people in my circle of family and friends but some of you, including you internet strangers, haven’t heard it before. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to accomplish in writing this all out: dealing with the death of a child is a strange and uncomfortable experience because no one talks about it. The death of a child is so unnerving to some that they would rather ignore it altogether than acknowledge the deep impact it has on a family. I hope that by sharing my story I can change that, even just a little.
This is the story of how I had to take my daughter’s crib apart before I ever got the chance to lay her down to sleep.