Raakhee Mirchandani cradles her daughter, Satya, at one of her many doctors appointments after she was diagnosed with cancer. (Photo: Raakhee Mirchandani)
By Raakhee Mirchandani; This story originally appeared in the New York Daily News.
Instead of planning her first birthday party, I thought about her funeral. And I began to imagine a life without her. Satya, the cherub-cheeked little lady we had brought into the world 10 months ago, had just been diagnosed with cancer.
It was Stage 1, she was well under 18-months-old and otherwise healthy. As if “otherwise healthy” mattered, the facts were that an MRI showed a tumor sitting between her kidney and aorta, dangerously close to her heart. Our hearts.
Satya’s name came to me in a dream. When I woke up there was only one word on my lips (Satya is Sanskrit for truth). I knew her middle name would be Devi (Sanskrit for goddess) after my grandmother. Our daughter would be Satya Devi Singh, translated it means Truth Goddess Lion. Good luck keeping this kid down, I thought, as I traced the letters over and over on my pregnant belly.
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