My daughter was six months old when she died from meningitis.  She had been in the hospital for a couple days when the Doctor wanted to have a meeting with me and her father.  We walked into a conference room and there were about 10 people already in their waiting.  I still remember how I felt at that moment, my heart started racing, I felt nauseous – I knew this wasn’t going to be good.  I sat down and looked at the faces around me and waited for the bad news.  One of the Doctors (there were three) told me that Ginny was brain dead, the pain is instant and intense.  Almost immediately I find out who the other people in the room are.  One of the ladies introduces herself and says she is from Lifenet.  They ask me if I would like to donate Ginnys’ organs.  I didn’t even look at my husband I immediately said yes.  What went through my mind in those few seconds?  Well, first I though this would be a great way to keep Ginny “alive” and second, I thought if I could keep someone else from having to experience the pain of losing a child I would do whatever I could.  I didn’t realize how this decision would ultimately help ease the grief I was sinking into.

When you lose a child the pain is unbearable x a million.  I sunk into a deep depression and spent a lot of time secluded, I couldn’t stand to be around people.  My husband and I split up.  I barely made it through each day.  One day I received a letter from Lifenet telling me that they were able to donate Ginny’s heart to a little 9 month old girl who would have died without it.  The letter was so beautiful I read it a million times and cried until I had no more tears left.  About 9 months after Ginny died I received an invitation from the Children’s Hospital of the Kings Daughters, where Ginny had died.  They were building a butterfly garden (the butterfly symbolizes new life from old)   to honor families of kids who were organ donors.  I really didn’t know what to expect when I showed up that day.  I had felt so alone in my grief.  Sadly, there were quite a few people at the dedication ceremony – mostly parents of kids who had died.  A local artist  had made some beautiful butterfly sculptures, one with each child’s name engraved.  While these were unveiled a huge box a butterflies was released.  It was heartachingly poignant and extremely beautiful – I felt some of the grief  fly away that day.

I often think of that little girl, running, laughing and playing because of the gift Ginny was able to pass on and I smile through my tears.