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“I like you, Lila.”
These are the phrases I say every morning. I say the phrases out loud, the second my eyes open, as I wake from sleep. I’ve achieved so on daily basis since returning dwelling from the hospital with out my daughter, on December 13, 2017.
My first Father’s Day got here roughly half a yr after dropping Lila. That morning, I slowly awoke from a vivid dream. I felt groggy, confused — like each my thoughts and physique had been caught in a half-conscious state, someplace between dreaming and actuality. I knew, one way or the other, that I used to be slowly waking up, and that at any second, I’d be totally aware.
Immediately, dread. Panic. I felt like I used to be freefalling. My eyes opened. My throat tightened. It was Father’s Day.
It was imagined to be my first Father’s Day with my candy, stunning child woman, Lila.
However Lila was not with me. She had been delivered stillborn six months and 4 days prior.
The day she was delivered, I held her, I kissed her, I hummed in her ear. I studied her fingers and caressed her toes. I stared and stared and stared — at her good face, the gentle tuft of darkish brown hair alongside her tiny head, her eyes completely sealed shut, like two little slits, by no means to open. I smelled her neck and kissed her brow time and again. I rocked her in my arms as my coronary heart shattered into one million jagged little items.
Lila by no means got here dwelling from the hospital with us. She was pushed straight from the hospital to a funeral dwelling. She by no means slept in her crib; she by no means wore a single outfit that hung evenly in her closet. She by no means acquired to have a good time a single milestone: a primary phrase, first step, first tooth. By no means acquired to style that first frosted cupcake on her first birthday. She’d by no means be photographed preparing for her first day of kindergarten. She’d by no means carve a pumpkin. She’d by no means clutch my hand as we crossed the road collectively. I might by no means hear her sing. The record of “nevers” felt endless.
One factor I at all times knew for certain in life was that I wished to be a father. I wished to create a household of my very own. It took my spouse and me a number of difficult years to get pregnant, however as soon as we did, the anticipation of getting a daughter, for me, was intense. I used to be elated. That dream of mine was coming true. I felt thrilled. Proud. I felt a brand new sense of energy, of readability and function. I’d been gifted a deep, boundless love. A novel love, the sort that solely exists between a mum or dad and little one. I used to be so excited to be a father. To be her father. Lila’s father.
Shedding her introduced a rare ache. A ache so unrelenting and torturous that it left me feeling bodily depleted. All my life, I’d been a cheerful individual; however the mild that after existed inside me was dimming. With every day that handed, I felt that dimming improve and intensify. By Father’s Day, I wasn’t certain if I’d ever really feel that mild once more. I used to be imagined to be a father that Father’s Day, however I felt like I wasn’t. I wasn’t a father as a result of I didn’t have a residing daughter. I used to be heartbroken.
My cellphone buzzed: “Blissful Father’s Day, Rob.” A textual content message from considered one of my oldest mates who, alongside along with his spouse, had additionally suffered a stillbirth a yr prior. My eyes had been fastened on the phrases of his textual content, as my thumbs slowly typed: “I’m not a father…”
“Sure, you’re. You’re Lila’s dad,” he responded.
In that second, one thing clicked inside me. My pal was proper. I used to be Lila’s father. I’m Lila’s father. I’ll at all times be. My ache, my grief —it’s rooted in my deep, bottomless love for her. That Father’s Day textual content, the primary, true acknowledgement of my fatherhood — it modified my life. It modified my relationship with my daughter. I felt validated, for the primary time. And I felt my daughter being validated, too. I’m Lila’s father.
As of late, I do what I have to really feel my daughter’s presence. I like saying her title. On my first Father’s Day, I used to be able to relinquish my function as Lila’s father as a result of she wasn’t earthside with me. My whole life modified as soon as I allowed myself to consider, to know, that I’m Lila’s father. And Lila is my daughter. I like you, Lila.
Rob Reider lives in Falmouth, Maine along with his spouse, son Dallas, and daughter (within the stars) Lila. He co-founded Unhappy Dads Membership (Instagram: @unhappy.dads.membership, www.saddadsclub.com) as a supportive group for loss dads to attach and assist each other by means of their grief journeys. SDC hosts Loss Dads Open Hours through Zoom each Thursday at 8:30pm ET.
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