Our son was feisty and determined from the first time I felt him kick me – hard! – on Mother’s Day. He kicked his way around for nearly seven months before I unexpectedly found myself in labor at 27 weeks. Most parents never find out why a child is born early, and we are no exception. He was born at 2 pounds 2.4 ounces, and 13.7 inches long on July 22, 2018. Every square inch of him was perfect. He had dark skin like his daddy, and his mommy’s lips and forehead. He had eyes that we were certain would turn into a beautiful blue, and daddy’s dark curly hair. He bared a striking resemblance to his brother, Luca, who spoke of nothing but his brother from the moment he learned he would be joining our family.  Because of his pre-maturity, our “Enzo” was expected to stay in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (“NICU”) at Strong Memorial Hospital at the University of Rochester until term, which would have been around October 18th. Unbeknownst to most of our family, our son was also born with “duodenal atresia,” which is an intestinal blockage, and would require surgery when he reached 4 pounds 4 ounces. He quickly became the adoration of all the NICU nurses and doctors. 

We got to hold our Enzo for the first time five days after he was born, and it was the single best moment of my entire life. Soon enough, Lorenzo’s personality was unmistakable and unapologetic. One day I got a call at work from Matt who informed me that our son, in a span of five minutes, had peed on his nurse – twice – knocked over his breast milk swabs, and ripped his heart and oxygen monitors off. He did that a lot. He loved getting his breast milk swabs, refused to keep his arms tucked in to his swaddlers, much to the nurses’ dismay, and loved wrapping his little hands around our fingers. He loved cuddling up on mama and smelling me when we had our hours of holding time, and smiled ear to ear at the sound of daddy’s voice. One day while I was holding him, he reached his hand up and grabbed onto my lower lip. He held onto it for one hour, and I was in my glory. I read to him every day. Luca made sure his little brother had a Detroit Tigers flag hanging in his room, and Matt brought a baseball glove (a catcher glove, of course) into his room with the same level of importance as the rosary. He stole the hearts of all who met him, and many who never did. 

On September 10th we got a phone call telling us that there was an opening in the surgeon’s schedule. Lorenzo was above the necessary weight, and he was ready to have his blockage removed, begin eating, and would be able to come home within weeks. On September 11th, Lorenzo went in for surgery around 11:30 in the morning and was done around 3:00. He made it through with flying colors, the blockage was removed, and he was sleeping soundly. We were told our baby would be under anesthesia until probably the middle of the night.  At 9:00 that night, Lorenzo’s heart suddenly stopped, and 45 minutes of CPR, and a team of the best doctors at nurses in the Country could not bring him back. 

There is no explanation for what happened. We have only our faith, each other, and our overwhelming support system of family, friends and the kindness of neighbors near and far to rely on. We know our son is now in God’s Kingdom, having earned his angel wings, and doing God’s good works. In hindsight, his pre-maturity was God’s way of letting us get to know our son who would not be with us long. 

When tragedy first hit, people often asked us what they could do to help. What did we need? Our son. That was all we needed. The more we thought about that question, we realized that what we really needed was to honor his life, and keep him alive through his beautiful memory. We wanted to create an organization of some sort to help other parents who know the depth of this pain to honor their children in a way of their choosing. For us, that meant creating “Love, Lorenzo” to help other parents. For some parents, that may mean dedicating a bench to their favorite park in their child’s name. For others, it may mean a scholarship in their child’s name. And for some, it may mean assistance in affording a proper burial. The way in which a parent chooses to honor his or her child is personal, pure, and sacred. We want to help parents to memorialize their children who have earned their wings too soon. 

The Love, Lorenzo Memorial Fund was created in conjunction with the Rochester Area Community Foundation. Our good friend Bryan Schoff, Vice President of UBS Financial, The Schoff Group, had experience in working with charitable organizations, and selflessly offered to assist us make this into a reality. He connected us with the Rochester Area Community Foundation, which is a local organization that allows creation and management of charitable funds, without the time and hassle of creating our own 501(c)(3) not-for-profit organization. The RACF is such an organization, and the gifts will come from the fund they manage for us. 

We chose the name, Love, Lorenzo, because when a family receives a gift from our fund, it will not be from Matt and I, nor the Rochester Area Community Foundation, but from Lorenzo himself. This way, our son lives on through charitable works, and touches families that have faced the incomprehensible loss of a child.