6 YEARS AFTER ONE OF MY TWINS D:IED, MY DAUGHTER CAME HOME FROM HER FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL AND SAID: “PACK ONE MORE LUNCHBOX FOR MY SISTER.”
Six years ago, I went into labor with twins. I was 31 at the time. The delivery room fell into chaos almost instantly.
Then, suddenly, complete silence. “One of the babies didn’t survive,” the doctors told me.
I never even got to see her. We named her Elisa, quietly, just between us.
We never told my other daughter, Wren, that she had a twin at all. She grew up thinking she was an only child.
Grief consumed most of the years that followed. I was distant, anxious, barely present.
