continued The evening of Feb. 15, Micah and Laura had taken the older kids to their religious education class at their church and arrived home late.
“We were just all over the place,” Laura said. “We put her to bed and said good night, and she got up at midnight and she wanted a bottle, and she was sitting up and she was fine, and then at some point during the night, she passed away, and we had no idea. He went to work, and I was getting the kids ready for the day…”
When Laura went in to check on her youngest, she found her unresponsive. Lily was already gone.
“When you’ve relived it and dealt with it, you can tell the story — not emotionlessly, but you become numb,” she said. “It’s so overwhelming. In the beginning, all of our families came in to town — they live out of state — and they had to just remind us to breathe. You just can’t even function. You don’t even know how to live.”
“You just have to take it one day at a time.” Micah said.
“You just want to stay in bed all day,” Laura said. “But you can’t. You have to keep going for the other kids.”
The Sateriales were also faced with the devastating task of telling their other children that their beloved baby sister had passed away.
“How do you tell them?” Laura asked. “They didn’t really react. I think they were just shocked.”
She said their twin girls, who went to school the day Lily died and had the support of their school and church, have dealt with it more easily than their 5-year-old son, who has understandably struggled.
“Our son has had a lot of trouble with it, a lot of anger issues. He talks about death all the time,” Laura said. “He’s never understood. We never had that talk. We put it off. Now we had no choice.”