Sometimes I catch myself wondering who my son was able to save.
On that 11th day of June, not only were J. and I wholly unprepared for having to say hello and goodbye to our son, but we had not entertained the possibility of donating his organs. Who does? What expectant couple sits down and considers that outcome? None of us. It was a big shock, finding ourselves on the phone with a tissue donation service. I know I, for one, didn’t think a child was capable of donating until they were much, much older. But when the donation center representative confirmed my questions that yes, our son, tiny as he was, could help others, I turned to J. and asked him what he thought.
What followed was a series of phone call interviews and paperwork determining Michael’s eligibility. And when it was all said and done, we were told that his heart valves could save up to two other babies, and that his eyes would go to a research study aimed at finding a cure for infant and child blindness.
My son. My little boy doing such big things before he was ever an hour old. (Possibly) giving two children healthy heart valves and saving two sets of parents the heartache J. and I felt. (Possibly) letting some infant see their mom and dad for the first time.
I will probably never get to know these children, or their families. That entire week was such a blur I can’t remember now if I told the donation representative that it was okay to be contacted or not. I’m not even sure I knew the answer to that at the time.
But I smile and my heart swells and my throat chokes up with a tearful sort of pride thinking that my beautiful, perfect, little boy has left a legacy that has touched at least six lives (two children and two sets of parents) besides those of his daddy and I.
Maybe more. ❤