National Donor Day

I put National Donor Day on my calendar last year, hoping that I could truly celebrate it in 2025. Why is this day so significant to me? Well, to understand that, you need to know the story.

I’ll summarize the journey as best as I can.

My oldest daughter, Bela, was born on Leap Day 2008 with half a heart—Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome (HLHS). Back then, we didn’t know how long she would live or what her quality of life would be. As she grew, we came to understand that if she continued to endure, she would eventually need a heart transplant. But we rarely thought about it or talked about it—it didn’t seem productive.

Then, in March 2023, we were told she was “in heart failure.” That’s when we began the process of getting her listed for a heart transplant. It was a long, exhausting journey from March 2023 until January 2024 before she was finally listed.

Then, on January 9, 2024, we got the call—Bela was officially listed for a heart transplant at Phoenix Children’s Hospital. The prior nine months had been draining, emotionally and physically, but this moment felt like reaching base camp on our emotional Mount Everest. Little did we know, we were only beginning another long stretch—10 more months of waiting.

Now, tying this back to National Donor Day: it was during this wait that I started praying for the eventual donor and their family. At the time, I didn’t fully grasp the weight of that prayer.

Then, on October 23, everything changed.

At about 1 AM, my older sister passed away due to heart complications. Initially, I felt comforted knowing she had faced so many health challenges and was finally free from pain and suffering.

But later that same day, at 11:30 PM, I received another call—Bela had a heart match.

The following day, October 24, was the most emotional day of my life. I wept, nonstop, for the donor family. I didn’t know them. I may never know them. But I grieved for their loss. I didn’t know if it was expected or sudden, but somehow, their worst day had become my best day. How is that fair? How is that just?

And at the same time, I was processing my own family’s grief. My parents had just lost their daughter. How could I hold such sorrow and such gratitude in the same moment?

Bela finally went back for surgery at about 9 PM on October 24, 2024. That’s the day we now consider Heart Day.

Now, about 80 days later, Bela is here, living with her new heart. I know she’s still not out of the woods, but being on the other side of the mountain brings a sense of relief—a view I wasn’t sure I would ever see.

God has a plan. And a lot of times, it’s really hard to understand.

Why did my sister face the struggles she did and pass when she did?

Why did the donor’s life end that day?

Why was Bela the one, out of so many waiting, to receive this second chance?

I may never have those answers in this life. But I do know this: I am changed. I am humbled. And I am forever indebted to a family I don’t know and may never meet.

So here’s my ask:

If you’re not a donor, become a donor.

If you are a donor, thank you.

And to the family that lost their child, their sibling, their loved one—thank you. Thank you for your willingness to give in the midst of your unimaginable loss. I may never get the chance to look you in the eye, to give you a hug, to fully express my gratitude, love, and condolences. But please know, I carry you with me always.