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March 16, 2012 was the day my world stopped, the day I had to become an adult and the day where my life took a drastic turn. I vaguely remember the smell of the bleach in the hospital room and the eery silence that filled the room as I gave birth to my deceased daughter. As I look back now, sometimes I find it surreal and above all bewildered that this actually happened to me. Never should a parent have to bury their child, but I was only 20-years-old. I was a child losing a child. Although my pregnancy wasn't planned, that doesn't mean that I still wasn't extremely attached to the idea of becoming a parent. My daughter Parkar didn’t get the chance to grace the world with her presence; she was taken away from me at only a mere 5 months along in the pregnancy. When we were told that she had a severe form of Spina Bifida and wouldn’t live to make it full-term, my life partially ended on that day. Devastation doesn’t even begin to describe the gut-wrenching emotions that swirled in my head and heart. At the time, I was so distraught that I honestly felt like I was dying. To be as sad as I was, I probably needed some sort of medical help for how deep of a depression that I sunk into. We found out on March 9, 2012 that we were having a little girl and on March 16, 2012 found ourselves in the hospital having to let her go. And for several months following, I suffered immensely, to the point where my life became a disoriented mess. One of the main problems was that I was at an awkward age where people didn't know how to treat me or what to say. I wasn't a child but I wasn't really an adult so most people ignored Parkar's death and acted as if it didn't happen. The second problem was that I had completely lost control of myself, my relationship, my friendships and everything in between. Several months down the road, I woke up in the middle of the night and almost had what you could call an epiphany. I didn't want this life of suffering anymore. I knew that I needed to change my life and turn my grief and hurt into something more positive. So the very next day, that is just what I did. I started to enact a plan of attack on how to get my life back on track. And with tiny baby steps I transformed my life. I sincerely believe that my daughter's death happened for me to help other parents. I think Parkar's death happened so I could learn to be a voice for young parents that are stuck in a rut. Now at the age of 23, I have devoted the last couple years of my life to helping people better understand what loss means for people in their 20s and 30s. Perhaps the greatest words of wisdom that I can provide, is that despite how horrible your child's death is, you are in fact strong enough to get through it. On days where you don't feel like going on and moving forward, you have the answers within yourself to heal, find love and real happiness again. Parkar's death was the greatest tragedy of my life, but somehow, someway I got through it.