2007 – Eight Months with Willem

Two thousand and seven began with the birth of my second son, Willem David Bolan. On January nineteenth, Willem was born. Life seemed to be on track, a great job, a wonderful wife, two boys I adored, a comfortable house in a nice neighborhood, but there was something wrong – Willem was always crying and upset, he hardly ate, he hardly slept, and then he developed what seemed to be a minor cold, with sinus congestion. After numerous trips to the doctor we were frustrated, as he didn’t seem to be getting better. The doctors didn’t have any good answers besides the cold thing. We were at our wit’s end. Finally, after noticing some odd bruising on his side and back, we got an answer, but this answer we didn’t want to hear – “Willem has Leukemia” the doctor said. Our world immediately turned upside down as we were slapped in the face by this harsh reality.

Our train had fallen of the tracks. Never to be fixed. Never to be placed back on the rails. Never to return from where it came. Life had immediately changed – we were given a pill that was impossible to swallow. Life was now unbearable. How were we going to get through this?

Willem was just seven weeks old when first diagnosed. I had hardly gotten to know him or form that fatherly bond with him, but I would soon develop a bond with Willem that would reach to the end of the universe, to the end of time.

The first few weeks in the hospital were a nightmare, he was extremely sick and we battled to keep him alive and we did it. The treatment Willem went through over the next few months was excruciating to watch and for him to endure. Willem was getting stronger and we were getting through everyday, learning how to take care of him. We did things as parents, which no parent should ever have to do to their child, but we gave him his shots, put the feed tube down his nose, and suctioned the secretions from the back of his mouth without a second thought – it had to be done in order for him to survive.

We had been in and out of the hospital since the end of June, Willem was in remission and by the end of August a bone marrow transplant was planned. Everything seemed to be working in our favor, my other son Kiernan was a one hundred percent match and Willem was getting stronger. We thought we were beating the disease, but it proved to be much stronger than the treatments Willem endured. The official diagnosis was Infant Leukemia, specifically pre-B cell ALL with the MLL gene mutation. This is an extremely difficult form of ALL to cure, with less than a twenty percent survival rate. Our beloved Willem didn’t make it. We were home just about a week, after a one-month stay in the transplant unit. His counts were back up and minor morphine withdrawal was our only concern. Maybe we could get the train back on the tracks after all? That wasn’t the case, Willem was getting weaker, and he looked pale and was lethargic. Initial labs showed a higher than expected white blood cell count. The next morning, my wife, Chris, took Willem to clinic to get new labs taken, just in case there was some mix-up, maybe there was an infection brewing, but there wasn’t a mix-up or infection – Willem’s counts had doubled and our worst fear was realized, the Leukemia was back, this time more aggressive than before. Within, one week after we discovered he had relapsed he died.

We loved Willem more than life itself. His smile would light up a room and bring sunshine into your heart. Everyone that met Willem, held Willem, or played with Willem is forever branded by his smile. One little boy, with one beautiful smile, changed hundreds of lives in eight months’ time and changed mine forever. I found strength that I didn’t realize I had. I didn’t know what love was until Willem showed me. Yes, he showed me – not with words, but with his eyes and his smile. I no longer fear death because I have felt it steal away my little boy, ripping out a huge chunk of my soul.

I will forever walk trying to fill Willem’s little shoes. Funny how I say little “shoes” as Willem never got to wear shoes, walk or even crawl? I will live the rest of my days taking care of my family, loving others, helping others and looking for signs that he is with me. Oh how I wish I could see a rainbow today…