We found out yesterday that one of the best doctors in the world passed away. She was 40 years old and had been fighting aggressive breast cancer for a year.
She gave my son life.
During labor, we discovered that my son had aspirated meconium and was going to be a high-risk birth. This fact necessitated the presence of a pediatrician/neonatal specialist to be there when he was delivered. She was new to town and had never met my OB. I remember laying there, my son's head crowning and her walking in.
"Dr. Ginger Senseman," she said, extending her hand to my doctor, who was seated in the winning spot at the end of the table. He extended his gloved, bloody hand. She roared with laughter.
"Dr. Jeffrey Knox," he said.
"Excuse ME! Can we save introductions for later?" I yelled. I clearly was not amused.
The next memory I have is Dr. Knox handing Dr. Senseman my blue, limp-bodied son and her RUNNING away with him. After giving him the breath of life, she stayed by his side for 12 days as we endured NICU, pneumonia, jaundice and more.
Fast forward three years to the next high-risk birth. There she was again, in the operating room as my daughter came into the world. She nursed her through jaundice and other issues for the next 7 days in ICU. She called our home when we got there to check on our baby girl. She even called my primary care physician and told him not to give me "crap about not breast feeding, because she tried and that baby girl is as stubborn as they come."
Ginger gave me my son. She saved so many babies. Her absence is felt. Her presence in Heaven is certain.
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