Yesterday, a child died. She took her last breath holding her uncle's hand. She was 12.
Eleven years ago, I held this little girl on an emergency room bed while she cried through double pneumonia, strep throat, and an ear infection on both sides. She was 21 months old.
Eight years ago, the tiniest of hands squeezed mine as we walked into a courtroom. Happy tears and tight hugs after hearing "Congratulations on your new daughter", we left as a family. She was 4.
Five years ago, she stumbled off the deck and broke her wrist. She took second place in her barrel racing competition - with a cast on. Her comment to the winner was "beat me with a broken bone and then you can talk". She was 7.
Three years ago, in July, a game of tag turned into an accident that would alter the course of our lives forever. A closed skull fracture, traumatic brain injury, 3 shattered thoracic vertebrae, kidney trauma, a broken humerus, and a fractured patella. Brain and spinal cord surgery performed by the top pediatric neurosurgeon in the country. He said "If you believe in prayer, now would be the time" as he scrubbed in to surgery. It was her half-birthday. She was 9.
Over the course of those next 16 months, there would be several close calls and ambulance trips. She was excited to be part robot, disappointed in missing her dance recital, and devastated when we told her she could no longer ride or race her horses. There were also phone calls celebrating the wiggling of toes for the first time, the first steps after she learned how to walk again, and the occasional "but Mom, it's only one horse trail" pleading. She got herself grounded, learned how to fly, and started running as soon as they said she'd never walk again.
A month ago, she fell at home. The damage was irreparable. She remained in a persistent vegetative state.
Over the weekend, her uncle and I made the decision to stop life sustaining measures so her suffering could end.
On Tuesday, we chose organ donation.
Yesterday, the machines were turned off and at 3:16pm, she took her final breath.
Over the next hours, even days and weeks, several lives will be saved with organ donation or partial organ transplants. Countless others will be helped with bone marrow, tissue donation, and stem cells.
Right now, her Godfather's son is in a transplant surgery receiving her eyes. An 8-year-old boy with a congenital defect will be able to see his little sister clearly for the first time. We will be able to visit their family and see her sparkle in his eyes.
Early this morning, a team of doctors completed a heart transplant surgery on a 22 year old woman who was born with a congenital heart disease. On Monday, they had given her a week to live.
My daughter was their miracle. Much like she has always been mine. This was her purpose in this world.
Aurora Grace brightened the world for twelve years, eight months, two weeks, and two days.
For eleven years and sixteen days of it, she was my daughter.
I am shocked, I am devastated, but I am grateful.
More graffiti later,
~ A
