I work with children on a daily basis. Little children – babies, toddlers, a few preschoolers. And they’re my world. If you know me at all, you probably know that.
And soon, I want to specialize in pediatric nursing not only because I love kids but because I was once a “sick kid” and know what that’s like all too well. I know what I went through, and I know what my parents went through with me.
Another family walked in our shoes not too long ago…
Some of you may remember that part of my liver went to a 3 month old baby. Livers regenerate, so sometimes they can save two lives with one liver
But that’s just the thing.
My life was saved, but was the baby’s?
I will never know, and that’s hard.
I contacted Lifebanc’s bereavement department and was surprised to find out a “yes” or “no” is considered confidential information, even if I have no idea who this child is, where he or she is from, or even her gender.
I will never know if the tiny person sharing my blood, his [my donor’s] blood, is even alive. I will never meet my little transplant brother or sister. I wouldn’t even know if he or she was sitting beside us in story time or in the stroller next to us at the zoo. He would be turning 2 right about now, and I hope and pray to God that his tiny body was able to fight through the surgery and recovery to make it this far.
If not, my heart is shattered for his parents, for her family.
But I like to think she is toddling around somewhere dragging a doll beside her or just getting up from her afternoon nap with sleepy eyes and messy hair. Sometimes it’s the littlest fighters who come out the strongest.
I hope she is able to wear a sparkly birthday hat and eat a big cupcake while her parents smile and thank God for the same teenage boy who gave me his liver, too.
What a gift.