Twenty Days: A Mother’s Reflection…”If I had known”

A photo of Mya just 20 days before she passed away from fentanyl poisoning.

If I had known. Those four words haunt me, echo in the quiet moments, and linger in the spaces where my daughter’s laughter used to be.

If I had known I only had 20 days left with Mya, I would have lived those days so differently. I saw a picture the other day, a picture of her exactly 20 days before she left this world and asked myself “if I had known, what would I do differently”. She looked beautiful, like she always did. There was that smile, that spark in her eyes, that light that drew everyone in. And yet, behind that smile was so much I didn’t see.

If I had known, I wouldn’t have wasted a second. I would have held her longer each time I hugged her. I would have memorized how she felt in my arms, how her hair smelled, how she fit perfectly against me like she did when she was a baby. I would have kissed her goodnight, even when she rolled her eyes at me for being “so dramatic.” I would have told her I loved her a thousand more times, and then a thousand times after that. I wouldn’t have rushed past moments, distracted by work or bills or the never-ending to-do list. I would have stopped everything just to be with her. If I had known, I would have wrapped her in all the love I had and prayed it would somehow protect her from the world, from the monster of addiction, from the poison that would steal her away.

I look back now, and I wonder…were there signs I missed? Could I have looked into her eyes and seen the battle raging inside? If I had known, I would have looked deeper. I would have stopped trying to believe the “I’m fine, Mom” and seen the pain behind it. I would have sat with her in that pain, no matter how uncomfortable it was. I wouldn’t have accepted the quick reassurances, the smiles that hid the struggle. I would have pushed gently but firmly, letting her know it was safe to tell me anything and everything. I would have listened more and talked less. I would have asked better questions. The kind that doesn’t let someone hide behind a wall of “I’m okay.”

I fought for her. God knows I did. But if I had known I only had 20 more days, I would have fought like my own life depended on it. Because it did. I would have kicked down doors if I had to. I would have dragged her to treatment, begged, pleaded, screamed at the top of my lungs if that’s what it took. I wouldn’t have worried about her being mad at me. I wouldn’t have tiptoed around her feelings, trying not to push too hard. I would have pushed with everything I had. Because losing her? That’s worse than anything. Worse than her being angry. Worse than her pulling away. Worse than anything I was afraid of at the moment. If I had known, I would have moved mountains to save her.

I would have watched her sleep, like I used to when she was a baby. I would have traced the outline of her face in my mind so I could never forget a single detail. I would have sat with her while she watched her favorite shows, not because I cared what was on TV, but because I cared about her. I would have taken more pictures. Even when she said, “Mom, stop, I look awful today!” I would have captured every moment…every laugh, every eye roll, every sparkle in her eyes. I would have cooked her favorite meals, even on nights when I was tired. I would have baked her favorite treats, just to see that smile. I would have noticed the way she walked into a room, the sound of her voice calling my name, the little things that seemed so normal but are now the things I ache to remember. I wouldn’t have cared about messy rooms or dishes left in the sink. I wouldn’t have nagged about laundry or chores or any of the trivial things that don’t matter now. I would have chosen grace every time. I would have laughed more. I would have joined her in her silliness, her dance parties in the kitchen, her goofy Snapchat filters. I would have said yes more. Yes, to ice cream at midnight. Yes, to road trips. Yes, to staying up too late talking about life.

Addiction is such a heavy thing for a family to carry. And so often, we try to carry it alone because we feel ashamed or because we think we should be able to handle it. If I had known I only had 20 days, I wouldn’t have tried to be strong by myself. I would have reached out more…. to friends, to family, to professionals. I would have shouted from the rooftops that my daughter was worth saving, that she needed help, that we couldn’t do it alone. I would have let go of pride and let love in.

I hope she knew. I pray she knew. But if I had known, I would have made sure, every single day, that she knew how fiercely, endlessly, unconditionally I loved her. I would have told her that no mistake could ever make me stop loving her. That nothing she did, no choice she made, no struggle she fought would ever change that. I would have told her she was enough. Just as she was. That she didn’t need to chase anything to be worthy. I would have reminded her of all the good in her…. her kind heart, her giving spirit, her beautiful soul.

If I had known that last day would be the last day, I would have done anything…anything….to change it. I would have sat beside her, held her hand, and begged her not to go that day. I would have taken her car keys, hidden her phone, locked every door if I had to. I would have said, “Mya, please…. just stay with me today. Let’s watch a movie. Let’s bake cookies. Let’s do anything except this.” I would have reminded her that fentanyl doesn’t give second chances. If I had known, maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe I could have saved her. But I Didn’t know! And that’s the cruel part. I didn’t know.

Addiction doesn’t come with a timer. Fentanyl doesn’t give warnings. One moment, she was here. And the next, she was gone. Gone because of one decision. One mistake. One dose. And now, I’m left with the “what ifs” and the “if I had knowns.”

If you’re reading this, please…. don’t wait until it’s too late. If you love someone who is struggling, don’t be afraid to fight for them. Don’t be afraid to say the hard things. Don’t be afraid to reach out for help. Don’t waste a single moment. Say I love you. Take the picture. Give the hug. Stay up late talking. Be present. Because you don’t know how many days you have left. And if you’re the one struggling, please ask for help. Please know you are loved. Please know you matter. If I had known, I would have lived those 20 days with no regrets. Since I didn’t, I’m asking you… don’t wait. Live like you know. Love as you know. Fight as you know. Because someone’s forever could be closer than you think!

Mya, I wish I had known. I wish I could go back and live those 20 days differently. I wish I could have saved you. But since I can’t, I promise you this…. I will spend the rest of my days fighting for others, telling your story, trying to save even one life in your name. I will love you forever. I will miss you forever. I will carry you with me forever.