Letter to my daughter – 15 years ago, on this date, I was preparing to welcome you to the world after feeling you grow, close to my heart, for 39 weeks. I remember being overjoyed the day the doctor confirmed you would be a baby girl because deep down I already knew. So, as I laid on the surgery table, I waited patiently for your arrival. Hearing your first cry as you made your presence known, holding you in my arms for the first time and breathing you in was like a piece of me that was missing had finally been found. I had prayed for this moment for so long. My princess, my mini me. I remember your first sound, your first giggle, the first time you sat up, the first time you crawled and then right before your 1 st birthday our world was shaken when we were given the news that would have us in the biggest fight of our lives. The hospital would be our second home for the first three years of your life. How ironic that it was in a hospital where you took your first breath, but it was
Trauma. Pronounced as trau·ma noun: trauma; plural noun: traumata; plural noun: traumas 1. A deeply distressing or disturbing experience. ie: "a personal trauma like the death of a child" Yes, that's the definition of trauma in my book, and the aftermath of living with said trauma has left me feeling emotionally taxed this past week. For those that don't know, I am the mommy of an angel. Almost 10 years ago, on 5/5/2012, I held my 3 1/2 year old daughter in my arms, as she took her last breath, on the 8th floor of 7th West Pavillion at Yale New Haven Children's Hospital. Yes, I said almost 10 years, yet the grief has not lessened; I have just learned how to live with it. Many said that time heals all wounds, that the sadness gradually goes away as time passes. But what many failed to tell me is that the littlest thing is able to trigger the traumas of yesterday. I mean, I should know better because at work I'm educating others about trauma, it's c