To my fellow mothers:
Last night, just before heading to bed, I took a moment to scroll through Facebook one last time. What I saw left me heartbroken. My neighbor’s 5-year-old son, Ethan, who spent most of last year battling AML, a fierce form of leukemia, has relapsed. He is set to begin chemotherapy again and will likely need a second bone marrow transplant. My heart ached.
This is the same little boy who joyfully played outside with my sons just a week ago. The same sweet, vibrant child who shares his toys with my 3-year-old and 19-month-old, who are still learning the art of sharing. I watched him master riding his bike a few months back on the path beside my house. Now, this little boy faces another round of hospitalization and the unimaginable challenges that come with it.
What amplifies the pain this time is that his parents are all too aware of what lies ahead. They know the exhausting hours away from their 3-year-old, the fear etched on their 5-year-old’s face during bone marrow biopsies, and the harsh reality that the very medicine meant to heal will make him feel worse. Yet, they continue to fight with unwavering strength.
Feeling utterly helpless, I reflected on my experiences as a social worker, where I’ve walked this difficult path with countless families. I’ve shared tears with mothers and fathers, played games with immune-compromised children, and comforted siblings confused by their parents’ absence in the hospital. But witnessing a friend’s child endure this struggle is a different kind of heartache. I felt the urgent need to help.
While I considered mowing their lawn, they already have that covered. I thought about caring for their younger son, but he has family nearby who can provide comfort. Cooking meals and offering emotional support seemed so inadequate in the face of such a monumental fight for life.
Then, this morning, an idea struck me, and I need your help to bring it to life. I’m not asking for contributions to a crowdfunding campaign. Instead, I urge you to think about becoming a bone marrow donor.
Before my oldest child was born, I registered as a donor. The reality of motherhood made me realize that if my child, my husband, or I ever needed bone marrow, I would want to ensure there was a match available. I felt it was selfish to hope for a resource without contributing to the donor pool. Although I’ve never been matched with anyone, I am grateful that my DNA is available should a child, mother, or father need it.
Imagine if everyone reading this letter took a moment to register as a donor. Imagine the increase in the donor pool and the lives we could save, including children like Ethan.
Becoming a donor is straightforward. Visit bethematch.org to request a kit. They will send you a packet with easy instructions to swab your cheek from the comfort of your home. Once you send it back, you’ll be on a list that could potentially save a life. It’s remarkable how simple it can be to make such a profound impact.
As mothers, for your children, your partners, yourselves, and for kids like my neighbor’s son, please consider registering as a bone marrow donor. If you’re unable to register due to age or health concerns, share this message with those who can.
While we may feel powerless in the face of challenges like Ethan’s, we can still do something invaluable. Please take a moment to register as a bone marrow donor. You may never know how your choice can change a life.
Warmly,
Lily Thompson
For additional insights on fertility journeys, check out our other blog post on couples’ fertility journeys for intracervical insemination. If you’re interested in upcycling ideas related to this topic, visit this resource. Also, for an excellent resource on pregnancy, consider March of Dimes.
Summary: Mothers, by registering as bone marrow donors, we can collectively make a difference in the lives of children battling leukemia. It’s simple, impactful, and could save lives. Let’s come together to support families like Ethan’s by taking action today.