Sophia and Ethan started dance classes... Sophia is so excited!
Dancing girl Sophia...
Dancing boy Ethan...
Last bottles with Daddy...
Ethan has learned how to wink...
Daddy and Ethan...
Mommy and Sophia...
Sophia on the balance blocks...
Ethan on the balance blocks...
Sophia and Ethan...
The balance blocks make a good house, too!
Sophia is starting to write her name...
I Call Her Seniorita Bread (by my friend Anna)
January 12, 2011
Mmmm, Seniorita Bread. If you haven’t had it, you’ve got to hunt down a Pilipino bakery to try it. You know those Pillsbury dough boy croissants that come in a can? Well, they are like that only smaller, sweeter, buttery and hot hot hot. You GOTTA have them hot. Lawrence and I can gobble them up as quickly as donut holes. Summer loves them because it’s a bakery treat that isn’t made with eggs. I’m licking my lips just thinking about them.
So why Seniorita Bread you ask? I have an old friend – not old like 40 but someone I’ve known for about 15 years. She has a new nickname, Seniorita Bread. She is Philippina, sweet and hot hot hot just like the addicting bakery treat. Back in the day when I would complain about mean people she would say “don’t be mad, feel sorry for them.” And you know what? My anger would slowly subside as I tried to see things from their point of view. Once I walked in my nemesis shoes, it was much easier to feel compassion for them instead of anger and hate. Great lesson to learn – not sure I’ve mastered it yet. ;-)
I’ve been thinking about Seniorita Bread (friend, not treat) often this winter. We lost touch over the last few years and I ended up hearing through the grapevine a horrible tragedy occurred in her family. Like me, she had a baby about 6 months ago. For both of us, it was our second child. In November, a tragic accident happened and her baby Johan suffered severe head injuries and passed a few days later. I can only imagine the loss her family felt. For those of us in the CHD community, we experience this loss over and over again each time a child with this horrible affliction dies. When I heard the news about Johan, I was stunned and then began to weep just as if a baby with CHD died. The heartache a family experiences when their baby dies has got to be one of the most unbearable experiences that propels a family to the deepest darkest depths of depression.
I looked down at my 4 month old, my heart healthy kid, and felt a pit at the bottom of my stomach. I knew that just days before, Seniorita Bread and Johan were bonding the same way Cordi and I were bonding. Bath time, feedings, diaper changes, naps, and walks – seemingly boring rituals turned into beautiful cherishable moments when our 4 month olds look up and give us a toothless grin and giggle. Thanksgiving was just around the corner and then soon, we’d deck the house in holiday garb as we’d celebrate our baby’s first Christmas. These moments were sadly stolen from Seniorita Bread’s family and my heart wept when I came to this realization.
I met Seniorita Bread a couple of weeks after Johan died. She was so strong in the midst of all the chaos around her. I walked across the room to offer my condolences and when we hugged, she whispered in my ear “the heart was the first to go. We decided to donate his organs.” I was stunned. In my grief over Johan’s death, organ donation was the last thing on my mind. And here I was hugging a heart donor’s mother. When I finally came to my senses, I began to cry in her arms. I can’t fathom the strength, courage AND wisdom she and her husband had to donate Johan’s organs. “If I could have given Summer my baby’s heart I would have,” she said. As you can imagine, I nearly lost it. We both cried.
I share this story with you because I’ve often wondered about donors and their families. They live on the fringes of our CHD community. We know they are there, but somehow they have been for me - detached. Important but faceless.
I put Summer’s surgeon on a pedestal. I often tell people he doesn’t just save patient lives but families as well. Because when a family looses a child, a piece of that family dies too. Donor families are bestowed this same miracle worker status. They not only save many children but save families as well. In their grief, they somehow transcend the tragedy to make the decision to donate their loved one’s organs.
Many of us are on a quest in search of our best selves. I certainly haven’t found mine yet – it’s a journey, painful at times, and isn’t complete without experiencing love. Love of nature, our partners, our children and family. Seniorita Bread and her husband have oodles of love for their children and each other. With this love, they were able to find their best selves in the midst of Johan’s death.
To Seniorita Bread, your family and especially to Johan, I believe in you and I believe in love.
Mama out,
xxxxoooo
Ps. Johan's heart went to a 6 month old girl in Seattle and his liver/pancreas and intestine went to a 6 yr old boy in Nebraska or Oregon. Seniorita Bread is hopeful that the recipient families will contact her someday.
