Open Letter to Our Donor

There is so much to say and yet, at times, I just wish I could simply hug you.

How can my words of gratitude encompass all I feel? The depths of my thankfulness, relief, & joy? And yet sandwiched in between all of those emotions lie a blanket of sorrow, grief, and immense pain. Clearly the latter not for myself, but from one parent to another. From one mama’s heart to another…

This has been a roller coaster of emotions for many years, our medical journey, that is. I’m not sure what your journey has looked like. I’ve wondered many times. They don’t tell you these kinds of things, you know? Maybe because "they" don’t fully understand themselves. Maybe because they’re too concerned (rightfully so) about the medical, more tangible aspect of it all. I don’t know. But I wish there were more discussions to be had. I wish I had known more of what feelings to “expect” so I could at the very least murmur to myself “this is normal.”

Since all I can do is wonder about you all, I can’t help but wonder if you’re wondering the same. And so, in case you’re wondering today of all days, I’d like to share some of our story. Maybe in some small way it brings you solace.

Our second born, a beautiful red-headed boy, came bouncing into this world two weeks earlier than we had anticipated.  Precisely 4 days before my own birthday. He will forever be the very best birthday present. His name is such a special name especially to his dad. Joel. It was the name of my husband's (Travis) dear grandfather. I’ve been told from day 1 that there was no one like, Joel Sr. That name would prove to have some sort of “name effect” because there is certainly no one like Joel Trevor.

However, Joel was born with an incredibly rare genetic condition that affects the entire body, but firstly, his kidneys. We learned very early on that a kidney transplant was nearly unavoidable.

From the time of birth to his transplant (2020) there were many ups and downs, medically speaking, but overall a sense of longing and excitement for this new hope and freedom that would be this kidney…the one your family would gift him with.

I prayed for you all from day one. Since I knew this would likely be our future, you have always been on my mind & in my heart. So odd. Such an anomaly, knowing someone’s very worst day was a day I’d be praying for, for so many years.

My heart grieved well before his kidney arrived. Knowing what you would have to endure just so we would experience a blessing weighed heavily on my heart long before the day it arrived here in our hospital.

What a complete paradox.

Oh how it can play gut-wrenching mind games.

To be living in a miracle all while feeling someone’s pain and grief, a complete stranger nonetheless, so deeply. This is the part where words escape me. And I feel like they do, because words here aren’t suffice.

The days since you had to undergo, what I assume to be, your most significant hurt in life, has been, for the most part, some of our most beautiful moments.

The gratefulness we have, after having gone through so much prior to the transplant, made us keenly aware that, days here on earth are limited and can often turn in an instant.

Do you want to know how he is? Have you thought about him, overall? Not merely “The left or right  recipient”? I’ll tell you all you’d like to know. He’s good. He’s better than good. But if you want to skip this next part, that I understand too. Surely there are no wrong feelings here. At least, no one can seem to tell me as much.

He is so active. He takes his meds religiously. I promise he does all he can humanly do to honor this gift of life. He doesn’t take it for granted, and, in case you’re wondering, he’s 19, now.

He’s not perfect. I’m not gonna lie. But I’m not too sure if at age 19, you’re supposed to have life perfectd... to have it all figured out. And I’ll take some blame on that account because at 45, I don’t have it figured out either.

He IS living. Not JUST living.. but…

Living life to the fullest. Oddly enough it’s the very last thing my 100 year old grandmother instructed me to do mere days before she met her Savior. She saw Joel after not having seen him in a few years and I will swear until my own grave, she had such peace seeing him healthy. Her eyes welled up and she couldn’t believe how much he had grown.

Your kidney did that. It provided so much growth. Before, his body couldn’t. Even with a growth hormone injected every single night… his body simply couldn’t. But this miracle has helped him grow in more ways than height.

He has a job where he works diligently, has many friends, pays all his own bills, loves to fish, and enjoys aggravating his siblings. He loves to be outdoors and with friends probably more than anything. He dabbles in music, cooking, and working on cars. He has many interests and is insanely witty. He will ALWAYS stick up for the underprivileged. He is strong, resilient, and a young man growing in his faith.

I want to believe you’d like him.. that you would be honored with some of the choices and tenacity he moves forward with.

And, I don’t know really… again… no one ever seems to know what to say here or tells me what to expect from the donor side… but… I would hope at the very, very least… you would smile.

And know beyond a shadow of a doubt that your loved one made such a lasting, monumental contribution to our family. We will continue to keep you in our prayers. We will continue to celebrate the milestones and victories but we will always keep a place in our hearts & prayers for you... our donor.