I have had two of my children die.
I was able to donate my sons organs, I wasn't able to donate my daughters due to how she died.
My experience of donating was quite a few years ago now, but I don't think I have the usual sense of pride in myself because I made that choice. I just feel a bit empty tbh.
I didn't feel this sense of greater good after I decided to donate his organs.
In fact, as awful as it sounds, I would have 100% chose my sons life over the 7 people who benefitted from his organs.
I got a letter from the hospital giving basic details of who received his organs (age, sex and which organ) and I honestly felt nothing. It was almost like a sense of duty, I could do that and other people won't have to go through this shit if I decide to do this, so I will, but it wouldn't make my son less dead.
At his funeral I wasn't proud that people were out there living better lives due to his death, I was just sad.
Some years later when my daughter died, I didn't feel any different about her death than I did my sons, if that makes sense. People who know often talk about my sons death as more 'worthy' but I just don't feel it. All I can feel is my loss.
When I see videos of all these touching moments of brides at weddings listening to her fathers heart in another man's chest, or a child running up to a bereaved mother after they were donated her child's lungs it strikes fear into my heart because I NEVER want that to happen. I sort of feel a bit resentful actually that other kids are alive and my baby boy isn't (again, I know that makes me sound like a cunt).
The process itself wasn't as traumatic for me as I thought it would be. The nurses and team listened to me, and they fulfilled all my requests. Often people say that it was horrific not being there for their loved ones last breath, but I had known for a little while that he had taken his last breath already, any more were made by machines. As stoic as I was after knowing that the little body laid there was no longer my baby, I did ask for someone to hold his little hand all the way through, the lovely nurse who did said she sang to him too, the songs that I sang to him at his bedside (she learned them especially).
I received a little backlash afterward, in my culture its not usual to donate organs so some words were had but it was fine eventually, and I also had some religious extremists harass me about it because I decided to donate his organs and cremate him (which is usual in my culture) they told me he was going to be tortured in eternal limbo because of me, which was lovely to hear when you're a teenager and have just had your baby die.
Overall I'm not proud or happy about it. I feel a bit of a fraud if I feel any sense of pride or happiness about it because I would take it back in a second if I could have just one more cuddle with my son.
If the very worst happened I would definitely do it again though.
I guess I'm just trying to say that it's normal to feel nothing really, or have conflicting feelings. It doesn't always come with a huge sense of pride.
That said, when other parents do that and it takes even a tiny bit of their pain away I'm so happy they get that relief, even for a second. This path is dark, so any bit if light shining on it for anyone is special.