A Letter to My Daughter on Her First Birthday | Opinion

2 weeks ago 6

Shachar Mazal, you are celebrating your first birthday, but your daddy is not here to see it. Your dad, Sagui, an Israeli-American citizen, was brutally kidnapped by Hamas terrorists on Oct. 7, 2023, from his home, his kibbutz, his safe haven.

In my 38th week of pregnancy, on Dec. 11 around noon, I was standing in the middle of the hotel where we were staying after Hamas desecrated our home and starting to feel contractions. My first thought was to call Daddy to bring the car around so we could drive to the hospital, but your father wasn't here—he was kidnapped.

What was I supposed to do now? I tried to tell you, "Wait just a bit more and give Daddy a chance to make it to the delivery room." But with the next contraction I understood you were trying to tell me, "Mom, I understand, but I need to come out. Don't worry, it'll be OK."

The Family Together
The Dekel-Chen family before Oct. 7, 2023. Courtesy of Avital Dekel-Chen

After three hours, you were already out. In that room there were six women and one man. The one man who should have been there was Daddy, but in his place stood a photographer who, trembling, held the camera and filmed these moments for Daddy.

I hoped in the most irrational way that the door would open, and Daddy would suddenly enter, embrace me, take my hand and say, "Come on, let's do this!"

During the moments of birth, I hardly hurt or screamed. These were moments during which I was supposed to be focused on myself, but I didn't want to be disconnected from Sagui. The moment I pushed to get you out, I said to Sagui, in my heart, that while I was doing this alone for now, I would never leave him for a moment. I told him he should be strong for me, and I'll be strong for him in return.

Shachar Mazal Dekel-Chen
Shachar Mazal Courtesy of the Dekel-Chen Family

The first night in the hospital—an almost sleepless one—reminded me of the first nights after Oct. 7, after they evacuated us from kibbutz Nir Oz. On those nights, I felt helpless against reality. I was alone with the girls, far into my pregnancy, without our house or things. Above all we were without Sagui. I would doze off at night for an hour, wake up in shock, and in the first moment think that I had woken from a bad dream. Then the tears would come in force. I cried until I could feel the burning in my throat

In the hospital, I decided to give you the name "Shachar Mazal." Shachar—the first light that comes after darkness. Your name is a memorial to one of the daughters of Tamar and Jonathan Siman Tov who were murdered on the kibbutz with their whole family. And "Mazal" is your middle name, the name that your father gave you when you were in the womb. When we found out about you, Daddy said to me, "Listen to that! This is a mazal," a sign of good fortune. And the truth is that you really are a great mazal for this world after everything we have been through.

And that is how we started our journey together—fighting the war to bring your father home, keeping him always in our thoughts. While Daddy battles for his existence, we try to do anything and everything to get him back. Your mother is here with you, but also meeting with important people who may be able to help your father. I am reaching out through the press, doing interviews, writing, articles, and anything else to support the effort to get Daddy back. And until he is here with us, I will not rest.

You and your big sister, Bar, spoke words I will never forget. One night, just before going to sleep, Bar took your hand and said to you, "Shachar, I really hope you'll meet your father," and that is how she fell asleep. It is not something one sister should ever have to say to another, especially a 6-year-old to a 2-month-old.

This year, you grew and developed. You learned to crawl, to stand, and to take your first steps. You grew four teeth and even started at a new daycare. You are such a special child, who, despite living inside a great swirling storm, always remain calm and at ease.

In honor of your birthday, I wish for you soon to be in Daddy's arms, arms that will hug you and hold you tight. And for Sagui, I wish for him to hear you call him "Daddy," and for all of us to share our love with him, again.

Happy birthday my beloved daughter.

Love,

Mom

Avital Dekel-Chen is the wife of Sagui Dekel-Chen, an American-Israeli who's been held in captivity in Gaza since October 7, 2023.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.

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