Inspiring Story #5

Today we are lucky to have not one, but TWO Inspiring Stories for you to read. Make sure you keep scrolling so you don't miss out on the second story. This next story was submitted by Yvonne Salvatierra.

Pillar of Strength

I have the best sister in the world.  Truly, I do.  She epitomizes strength, courage, perseverance and faith.  When my sister Maria was 36 years old, she got married and a year later, became pregnant.  It was her first baby.  Neither she nor her husband wanted to know the sex of the baby until it was born.  In December of 2005, the cutest little baby boy was born.  They named him Ethan Alexander.  Ethan was my sister’s choice. She loves Ethan Hawke the actor, so she named his after him.  Alexander was my brother-in-law’s choice because of Alexander the Great.  And so, he was christened, Ethan Alexander.  What should have been a joyful and exciting time for my sister and her husband and the rest of the family, quickly turned grim and fearful.  Immediately after he was born, the nurses whisked him away and called Life flight to transport him to Texas Children’s Hospital.  One of the best medical facilities for children.  My sister had him by caesarean so the stitches were still fresh.  Against her doctor’s orders, she was discharged and rushed to the other hospital across town, to join the baby.  Ethan was born with a massive hole in his heart.  The doctors’ prognosis was “expect the worst”.  On just his second day of life, my baby nephew was given his last rites (A Catholic ritual for the dying).  Throughout all of this, while everyone was falling apart, myself included, my sister remained surprisingly strong.  She did not flinch when the doctors told us that Ethan was only expected to live a few days.  She refused to accept that and she prayed.  A lot.  We all did.  By nothing else than God’s hand, Ethan survived the first of many, many heart surgeries to follow.  Ethan spent the first six months of his little life in the hospital.  When he was finally discharged, the nurses and doctors showered him with flowers and balloons. He became known as the Miracle Baby.  Once home, the real work began. My sister became the mother, the nurse, the doctor.   Because Ethan was sent home with tubes in his nose and wires on his body, my sister was given a crash course in medicine by the home health nurse that came to check up on them once a week.  It was she who knew what to do if the baby stopped breathing suddenly, or turned blue or cried.  It was she who knew how to give him his medicine and held him when he cried, or held him down when the doctors had to give him several injections. While we were all there, it was my sister that was and remained the strong one.  I lost it. Each time, but especially when they had to hold him down.  I couldn’t stay in the room or even outside of the room.  Ethan’s cries reverberated throughout the entire floor.  My brother-in-law was a nervous wreck and could not even hold the syringes steady that contained Ethan’s medication.  My sister became the leader and we were her followers.   Our little miracle baby is not such a baby anymore.  He is now a beautiful and healthy 8 year old little boy.  The cardiologists have given him a clean bill of health and he doesn’t have to go for checkups with them every year like he used to when he was first born.  Now he only goes every two years.  He is normal, his heart is perfect and he is so loved.  I don’t have any children.  I don’t know that I would ever be as strong as my sister was during that time.  She inspires me to keep going, even when things in my life want to keep me down.  She is the one that encourages me to keep fighting no matter what.  Both Ethan and my sister are fighters.  That little boy brings so much joy to our lives.  I hope he knows what a special mother he has by his side.  

Written By: Yvonne Salvatierra