“I watched our daughter take her last breaths, with our two month old baby boy in my arms."

 “I was 17 years old, soon to be 18. My birthday was in November and nearly all of my friends had already turned. It was tough for me to have my birthday so late. I felt left out in some way. Once we went to a party and all of my friends drank alcohol. I didn’t want to be excluded so I also drank. Unfortunately it got out of control and I drank a bit too much. Too much for my parents not to bust me. I got a curfew for three whole weeks! That was the time I realized I had to move out from my parents. February the next year, I found an apartment 20 minutes away from my parents house. It was located next to my university as well. It was the perfect place to settle down. I studied to become a doctor. Although I was a bit uncontrolled and messy, I still had good grades in High School. As a youth I always wanted to be a doctor or a veterinary surgeon. The second year at the university I found the love of my life. It felt like we were meant for each other. Unfortunately though, my education stopped us from moving in together and spending as much time with each other as we wanted. We stayed together during my long and difficult education and when I finally got my degree, we moved in together. After another year passed, I was pregnant. It was a girl and we were both so happy. Both of us were pretty young. Many people believe that if you create a family at 25 years of age you haven’t lived your best life, but that's not true, we felt accomplished. The years went by and soon our little angel had turned seven and I was pregnant again, with a boy this time. We had plans on going overseas to Greece when the unthinkable happened. Our daughter was diagnosed with cancer. It was devastating for all of us. She had to spend her birthday laying down in a hospital bed. It was very hard to go through. I was a doctor so i wanted to help but i was 7 months pregnant with our boy.”

“I watched our daughter take her last breaths, with our two month old baby boy in my arms. To this day I'm sure that our son felt sorrow. There was some type of connection, I’m positive. He cried when it happened. It took two years and around 25 visits to the psychologist to get over it. My family and friends kept me going. A big part in my recovery was my occupation. I couldn’t save my daughter but I can and I have saved other daughters, moms, dads, sons etcetera. Today I am a happy married woman with a successful and beautiful family. 

Melker 9b