I think about my lost daughter Libby weekly. It will be 3 years in September.
Few remember her. Heck, no one knew her.
All we knew of her, is she was wild in her mom’s tummy. Always flipping around and kicking. My wife and I joked we were going to have our hands full with this one.
One thing still makes me sad – she doesn’t legally exist. What I mean is she does not have a birth certificate. I’m not sure why it’s important to me.
I selfishly bring her up in conversations when people ask how many kids I have. Occasionally it leads to connecting on shared experiences which is therapeutic. Mostly it makes the other person feel a little weird (sometimes sad but mostly awkward). But the weirdness is brief.
It’s the only time I get to talk about her outside of the walls of my home. And it’s nice hearing someone else say her name – it’s a small bit of reassurance that she did exist.