Layla

I’ve never written about Layla.

Layla is my niece. My sister, Bridget’s, daughter.

Bridget had a typical pregnancy. She was thrilled to be having a daughter after having a son, 9 years earlier. She couldn’t wait to meet the little girl that was wiggling around inside her.

Toward the end of the pregnancy, Layla moved less and less. They run out of room to wiggle, it’s normal.. right? Bridget felt uneasy and went to see her doctor. They took a listen and found Layla’s heart beat. Bridget was relieved. A few days later, fear set in again after not feeling Layla move for a full day. She felt silly calling her doctor again, but she needed reassurance. When she got to the clinic she fully expected a repeat of what had happened just a few days earlier, except this time it didn’t happen. There was no heart beat. Layla was gone.

Bridget was sent home to tell her husband. They spent the night with their hands on my sister’s belly, knowing that when they met their daughter she would be dead.

I was suppose to be with my sister when Layla came into the world.  I was going to document her birth. Instead, I supported my sister through the labor and delivery of a daughter that would never take her first breath. We both prayed during the delivery for a miracle. We prayed the doctors were wrong and Layla would come into the world and cry a beautiful cry….. that didn’t happen.  I thought of how fragil life is that this particular baby, my niece, wasn’t going to get a chance. We’d never see her smile or hear her laugh. We wouldn’t get to watch her smash cake into her face on her first birthday. Everything about it was agonizing and wrong.

I’ve never seen anyone in pain the way my sister was that day.  Instead of being there to document Layla’s birth,  I documented the most tragic experience of my sister’s life. Bridget wanted a reminder of her daughter’s birth/death. She wanted me to treat the birth as I would have if Layla had been born alive. It was hard to be behind the camera when all I wanted to do was hold my sister and cry with her….

Layla was beautiful. As I snapped pictures of her head first crowning (Bridget wanted all of it photographed) I forgot for a second that Layla was dead. I looked at my sister, smiled,  and told her to keep pushing, that Layla had her daddy’s black hair. For a second, Bridget forgot, too.. she was excited to meet her daughter.  After the final push, she wasted no time in scooping her little Layla into her arms and examined every inch of her.. sobbing…..asking why. Every time I tried to set the camera down, she’d tell me to keep taking pictures.. she didn’t want to forget a moment. She didn’t want Layla to disappear from her memory.

Meet my beautiful niece, Layla.. born into heaven last January.