Dear Baby Girl,

I know this past summer was turmoil and a hellish ride for you. I didn't get to see you, but I felt your pain and your sadness. Although I don't quite fully understand the whole thing, I want you to know that we're with you 100% of the way. I can't even begin to imagine what it was like to actually face Death in the face, the heartache and utter despair that befalls someone when the one person who was their superhero, their rock, their support disappears from your side. But I do understand part of it, I know what's it like to fall so deep into a hole and feel like I can't crawl out- when the world seem to collapse on me and my life crumbling to my feet. The fear and the denial, I know it all too well.

When my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer almost two years ago, I felt my heart stop. I even snorted and told the doctors that that couldn't be possible. In a way, I saw my mother as almost invincible, nothing could take her down. I was denied the possibility that this was happening to her. I denied it so hard that I pretended that I never heard those words. But Life wasn't always a pocket full of sunshine. It wasn't until she started her chemo treatments, losing her hair that she loved so much, and me watching her life deteriorate before my eyes did the reality of the whole thing slap me across the face. Hard. My family was also arguing and fighting amongst each other everyday, and I think because everyone was so desperate to find release that they forgot that everyone was suffering too. And I added to that fire, I was childish and stubborn, I was angry at the world... At Life for doing this to my family. I fought with my dad even harder than before, bitter words were thrown at each other, and I knew that I shouldn't be fighting with him, especially in front of my mother whom was laying so delicate in the hospital bed with the beeping monitors next to her. It was then that I broke down when I saw my mother cry telling us feebly to stop fighting. I cried so hard in that hospital room, I think that was the first time that I really let myself go. I was at my lowest point in life, and I detested myself for it. I honestly thought I had lost myself through this muddle of chaotic mess, yet deep into the depth of my heart, I had faith in my mom. I had always believed my mother would survive through this, she was a fighter. She was my role model, the strongest woman I knew (although I would never tell this to her face, only through letters did I confess my thoughts to her). It was the only hope I held onto- and that pulled me through the darkness with the help of my cousin and sister who were the only ones that listened, who were pacifists. For those two years, they were my only support system. But we made it. My mother fought hard the next two years, and she persevered and won.

In a way, I learned a lesson, "For the first time I had to deal with the fragility of life. I have foolishly lived feeling invincible, thinking that I and my loved ones will live into our 70’s or 80’s, without event. But for the first time, I’ve thought about what is truly important in this lifetime. The two things that are of most value for me are my family having a purpose that extends beyond this life. There must be more to this life than living an X number of years while simply trying to be a good person." I know the ending of this story is way different than the one you went through, if not on the other end of the spectrum- but I'm here to listen to you. I want to be your support that you can depend on. I want you to know that you're not alone in this! (:

With much love,
"Elie"