“The only person on the planet that literally knows my every flaw and yet relieves me of my insecurities.” Chantel once sent me this post on Instagram with that caption and added, “How I feel about you #sisterbestie.” That message perfectly captured our bond.
We met at university in 2010, and although we didn’t get off to the best start, a campus job forced us to spend time together, and we quickly became inseparable. Chantel graduated before me but never stopped cheering me on. She was the kind of person who, if I said I wanted to be an astronaut, would buy me a space suit and send me articles to help make it happen. Over the years we became family, spending holidays together and creating unforgettable memories. 
In 2019, Chantel and her partner were thrilled to be expecting their first child, a baby girl she lovingly called her “mini-me,” Xana. She sent us baby pictures on Instagram saying, “This is what Xana will look like,” and we’d tease her saying, “You wish! Lol” On February 27, 2020, Chantel called to say it was time. I picked up a few things for her and rushed to the hospital to be at her side. She was alone at the time, so we spent those moments together, listening to Xana’s heartbeat, talking, taking photos, and preparing for the moment we had all been waiting for. As labour progressed, unexpected complications arose, and in the end, we lost both Xana and Chantel. When we were told the devastating loss was due to an amniotic fluid embolism, we turned to the internet in search of answers and found the AFE Foundation. The foundation offered invaluable insight into this rare birth complication and provided some measure of solace at a time when our world was falling apart.
Six months later, wanting to honour Chantel and Xana’s memory, I teamed up with another friend of ours to help an expectant mother in need. What began as a small act of kindness quickly grew into something bigger, and that’s how The Sister Bestie Network was born. The Sister Bestie Network is a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting and empowering mothers and caregivers in Trinidad and Tobago. Though Chantel is no longer here physically, she continues to shape my life every day. I think of her and Xana constantly and imagine the life we might have shared, including family gatherings, sleepovers, road trips, and lots of laughter. In my pain, I have found purpose, and I try to live a life rooted in faith, gratitude, and love, because Chantel was, and will always be, my sister bestie.
