My little trooper

On Saturday afternoon, Mike is donating platelets through the American Red Cross. He regularly donates blood through blood drives at work, but this will be the first time he's donating platelets. Obviously, I don't know the specifics, but donating platelets is far more involved than donating blood; he'll be hooked up to machines and actively donating for at least two hours.

I'm a wimp. I just do not have the stomach for donating blood. I tried to do it once several years ago and nearly passed out. How I managed to make it through a nine-month pregnancy - with all the poking, pricking and prodding - is beyond me!

Thankfully, though, Mike never flinches when it comes to doing things for the greater good. He's undergone several unpleasant medical procedures during the time we've been together, and his courage never falters - not even for a second.

This must be where my little Ryan got his bravery, because it certainly didn't come from his mother. In just two days - his entire life - Ryan was poked, pricked, and prodded more than most people who live average-length lives. And, my beloved little guy sucked it up, like it was no big deal at all - all in a day's work.

I know, theoretically, that a newborn's nerve endings aren't fully functional for a few days after their birth, but Ryan was very responsive to stimuli - so much so that he was sedated to allow his body to rest and retain the little bit of strength he had. While visiting Ryan in the NICU, I was scolded several times by his nurses for touching him because he'd respond to my touch and exert too much energy - energy he needed to hopefully overcome his heart defects and the surgeries that were to follow.

He was my little fighter; no doubt about it. He was strong-willed, like his mother, so much so that he didn't want to be the cooperative patient that the doctors and nurses wanted and needed him to be. When he heard a noise, he'd turn his head to see what the commotion was all about. When I'd kiss his cheek at the beginning and end of every visit, he'd wiggle and squirm the way most newborns do, despite being connected to a hundred and one machines. And, when I placed my finger in his tiny hand, he squeezed my finger and hung on to it for dear life.

Having just come into this world, with his heart functioning well below what is considered normal, Ryan fought hard for his little life. And, although he ultimately lost his battle, that battle was a fought harder than anything I could possibly imagine. I wish I had the courage to live my life the way my little boy did in those 54 hours. He's my little hero.

It's no wonder that Mike will do anything that's uncomfortable medically, because, he, too, knows how hard our son fought and thinks that nothing we could ever experience could be worse than what our son endured.

Ryan set a wonderful example for both of us, as well as for lots of other people. That's why the words we chose for his obituary will always be perfect ...

Though our beautiful angel's time with us was short, his feisty and unyielding spirit has touched and inspired many.