On the 9th anniversary of my daughter's stillbirth...

9 years ago I gave birth to my second daughter, Gwyneth, after finding out that she had suddenly passed away the day before, on her due date.

Even after all these years of “surviving” stillbirth, I don’t feel like I can adequately put into words just how devastating and traumatic the experience is.

And it’s not just the initial shock of being told your child is dead and then still having to go on and give birth to her. It’s actually the living the rest of your life that’s the most difficult.

It’s opening your eyes every single morning and remembering…”Oh, yeah…my daughter’s dead.”

It’s becoming the mother of a dead child, the person who’s the elephant in the room, who lives every woman’s worst fear and because of that no one wants to look at her.

It’s always feeling alienated, especially on your baby’s birthdays, which are not “Happy Birthdays” but death anniversaries - anniversaries of the most painful and grotesque experience of your life.

Stillbirth is being deeply tired and lonely as you carry the love, grief, longing, guilt, regret and rage of losing your baby all by yourself. Nobody "gets it" and it’s such a terrible and foreign concept that they could never imagine what you’re feeling. I can’t blame them. I wouldn’t understand either if I hadn’t experienced it myself.

I’m a “there’s a solution to every problem” person, yet there is NO solution for stillbirth, only trudging forward through the ashes that threaten to suffocate every aspect of your life. I know I have survived these years by not allowing the ashes to suffocate me. I believe Gwyneth was put on this earth for a reason and I was put here for a reason. Every day that I choose hope and positivity, I rise from the ashes and learn more about our purpose.

On this 9th anniversary of my daughter’s #stillbirth I have come a long way, but have so much yet to understand. I do know that I am learning from my trauma, my mistakes, and I am brave enough to change for the better. And I owe it all to my baby, who lost her life for her mother to be saved.