Valedictorian Speech

“Doing what you love is the cornerstone of having abundance in your life.” -Wayne Dyer




     I just spent the past ten minutes staring at the heading to this post. It all seems so surreal to me. I'm still waiting to be pinched and wake up from it all. Nursing was always my DREAM. I remember fondly pretending to be a nurse when my grandfather was ill. I would bring him plastic fruit and pretend cups of water. He would call me his nurse. Even though a plastic apple a day couldn't keep the doctor away....it is compassion that can help heal pain. Ever since I was a little girl I had the aspirations and the hope that one day I could fulfill my dream. Life happens and that dream was thrown in the back of my mind, hidden under sadness and the grind of everyday life survival. As a pregnant high school senior I was told to forget college and focus on working and making money. The loss of my son made it even harder for me to dig that dream back out. I worked for years in the insurance business working so very hard, never to be noticed, and loathing what I did. I was made to make an impact on the life of others...and I couldn't do that by sitting behind a desk collecting past due insurance premiums. It was a women's retreat at my best friends church that helped me dig out my dreams. I prayed and God spoke to me. Months later I started school....and here I am today. I am happy to say I will be continuing my education within the next 6 months to complete my RN
then my BSN....and I'm not stopping until I am a Nurse Practitioner. That is my dream and I have learned to NEVER bury my dreams again...


     Here is the speech I will be giving next week....

Good afternoon, honored guests, faculty, family, friends, and fellow nurses. I admit that I’m relieved to be surrounded by many nurses as I am currently experiencing tachycardia, tachypnea, and diaphoresis. I may have even thrown a few PVC’s. For everyone else in the audience, that translates as rapid heart rate, rapid respirations and profuse sweating. Allow me a moment to compose myself.

My name is Christina Zambrano and I feel so privileged to be speaking today on behalf of the Lincoln Technical Institute April 2014 graduates. I believe you will agree that in front of me today sit some of the most driven and intelligent men and women to be entering into the nursing profession.

Let me first start off by thanking everyone for being here to tonight for this momentous occasion. We would like to thank from the bottom of our hearts all of the people who made this day possible. Thank you for turning the tiny seeds that were once just our dreams and nurturing them into reality. Dr. Santucci, our DON, for all of the long hours you consistently put in to make sure we are getting the best education possible. Thank you for always having your door open and never giving up on us. Ms. Diese for all of the hard work she and others put in to make this beautiful ceremony possible. To each and every faculty member and instructor who shared with us all of their wisdom and experiences from their years as nurses, we thank you. It goes without saying that the instructors at LTI go above and beyond to help us become successful nurses and prepare us for our future careers. Every one of you have touched our lives in one way or another. Last, but certainly not least, we would like to thank our family and friends who have supported us on this journey. It was you who were there for us through all of the ups and downs that come with nursing school. Your devotion, love, and encouragement is what motivate us to keep going even when we felt like we couldn’t go on anymore. Nursing school is not easy. We are told that in the very beginning during the interview process, but I don’t think any of us really had any idea. In the past 12 months, on top of our full day of lectures and/or clinical rotations, we had to prepare for the endless amount of exams. Sometimes two to three in one week! We had to lock ourselves in a room away from family to study. Life doesn’t stop when you are in nursing school so we also had to add in the factors of jobs, family, marriages, children, sickness and the daily grind that is life. We have missed family functions and social events, laundry piled up to the ceiling, and I don’t know about the rest of you but my husband is happy to not be eating grilled cheese multiple times a week anymore for dinner. We are eternally grateful to you all for the support you have given us.

Twelve months ago a group of strangers walked through the doors of LTI anxious and eager to see what the future would bring. In that group were some CNA’s, an EMT, administrative assistants, stay at home moms, and supervisors. Some were fresh out of high school whereas some of us hadn’t sat in a classroom in over ten years. For whatever reason on that day in April a group of mismatched strangers came together to follow their dreams and change their lives forever. Today, that group of strangers stand before you together as a family[CZ1] . The relationships that we have built in the past 12 months are some of the strongest bonds you will ever see. Together we have laughed and together we have cried. We scarfed down our lunches while discussing topics that would make an outsider nauseated. We have broken into more cars than a criminal and with more precision than Mcguever. (Let’s just say it usually involved blood pressure cuffs and a fishing rod- because someone locked their keys in the car.) We have spent long nights at work only to spend long days in class. We have shared wonderful news of babies on the way and the sad news of the passing of loved ones. This past year we have learned so much. Some things we learned are that the ABC’s are not just a children’s song but they stand for something much more important. That is airway, breathing and circulation. And who can forget Ms. Redden drilling into us about perfusion, perfusion, perfusion. I believe, however, that the most important thing we learned this year is about compassion. This is one of the values that is of the utmost importance when being a nurse. We as nurses will make an impact every single day in the lives of people in our community. We are the voice of the voiceless and the advocates for those who cannot advocate for themselves. We should realize that even by helping one person, we are making a difference and we are making the world a better place one patient at a time. Some of us may enter the field and some of us may be continuing on in our education, but we all share one thing in common, we are all nurses and we all made it.

I would like to end this speech with one of my favorite quotes by Maya Angelou. "They may forget your name but they will never forget how you made them feel." Every single day when you are working always remember this quote for we can make a difference one patient at a time.

Thank you.

My little one

I should have been studying but I needed to write tonight. First one in a long time. Little rusty...


Cool summer breeze

As crickets serenade

Enjoying the sunset

And sipping lemon aid 

You are flying around

Barefoot and free

Not a care in the world

Blowing kisses at me

Giggles and grass stains

Fireflies in some jars

Illuminating your face

Like tiny golden stars

You whisper your dreams

Your hopes and ambitions

I hope these you remember

Through life's many transitions 

Believe in yourself

And in others as well

Survivors pick themselves up

No matter how many times they fell

Life is not always easy

It can be downright hard

But with loved ones and God

You will get very far

And when life gets so busy

Please remember this, love

To stop an enjoy all the wonders

And beauty from above

You are never told old 

To walk barefoot in grass

And enjoy fireflies

Flickering through glass

                  Christina Zambrano 2013

The Importance of Grieving and Closure

Edited 2/1/2014

     Looking back to three years ago I sometimes can not even recognize myself. As I stand back in time staring at my reflection I see a woman standing before me. Her brown eyes reddened from years of sadness she held locked inside her. That sadness chipped away at her soul little by little until she too was at the brink of death. I'm standing in front of a mirror, but who is this woman before me? Memories flood back to me as if the damn that was built inside of me to keep the hurt away came crashing down. Three years ago I was filled with anxiety. Debilitating anxiety that something would happen to my family-to my son. Would he stop breathing in his sleep? Would he fall at the babysitters on his head? What if he somehow got out of the school and ran out in the street? What if he is in the car with his grandmother and they get into an accident? Once these thoughts are in my head there is NO TURNING BACK. Eddie’s first day of school I sat in the parking lot the entire time. What If? What If? What If?

     Finally one morning I looked into the mirror and I realized the woman looking back at me was begging me for help. Her eyes were worn from the constant worrying. I began my journey with a few therapists who helped me come to terms with where all the anxiety and fear stemmed from. The death of my first son Dylan Thomas. Three years ago I wouldn't talk about my story the way I do now. People knew of my loss, and I had to give the information during past medical history questionnaires, but that was just facts. That was not MY story.

     I sat down one night and let my story exit the deepest corners of my mind and trickle out onto the keyboard. I felt a release that nothing else in the world has ever given me. It was as if the heavy blackness that was strangling my soul was released and I watched it disintegrate like ash from a flame that was put out. Here is my story.

     2003: I was an 18 year old high school senior pregnant with her first baby. It was not the ideal situation in the least. The pregnancy was not planned, I was frightened, and I had my doubts. I had dreams of going to college and becoming a nurse and publishing a book-becoming a pregnant teen was not on my mind. My support system was pretty much non existent except for a couple amazing teachers who pretty much saved my life. I really don’t even think they know how much they did. Ms. Coates and Mr. Masi were my angels that year. They never passed judgment and they supported me. For an 18 year old girl who felt the world was on her shoulders, I just could never thank you both enough.

      Against my will I made an appointment to go to the abortion clinic. The atmosphere was cold as I looked around the waiting room. My heart was beating so fast as I looked over to my boyfriend with just as much fear in his eyes. I filled out piles of paperwork and met with a woman who broke down the procedure nonchalantly as if I was at the dentist for an annual cleaning. No big deal. Panicked I got up, got dressed, and bolted from the facility. Although the situation was not ideal I chose to keep the baby, despite being pressured by many to have an abortion. We later found out I was carrying a little boy. I chose the name Dylan Thomas because of my obsession with the great Bob Dylan and the writer Dylan Thomas. I saw his heartbeat on the ultrasound monitor, felt his little feet kick me, and just prayed that God would take care of me and this innocent baby. I stayed in school, worked part time, clipped coupons, planned his Cat in the Hat nursery, and would day dream about all the things I would teach him. I loved him and I often wondered if he could feel my love.

     March 20, 2003 , 7 months pregnant I woke up to swollen legs and feeling very dizzy. My boyfriend’s mother dismissed me as being lazy and my boyfriend left me at home and went to work. I made a doctors appointment and called a dear friend of mine to take me. Within moments of checking in they had me lie down. Nurses and doctors were frantically making calls and running around the office. I was just at the doctors a few days ago for a check up and everything was fine. What was going on. I would later find out my blood pressure was 210 over 120 (normally 115/80). I was rushed across the street to the hospital where the rest the story was almost a blur.

     Before I knew it I was lying in a room with an IV of Magnesium sulfate dripping into my veins. The nurses told me they were not allowing my then estranged family into the room with me because they were afraid I would stroke out or have a seizure from any type of stimulation. I sat in the quiet room in a haze of drugs and worry. Next thing I know I was being prepped for a C-Section. All of a sudden I was laying in the cold operating room surrounded by what felt like a thousand people. There was no time for an epidural so I would need to be put under. I begged the nurses to please not put me under until I spoke with the doctor. Please Please Please! I begged as if I was begging for my life. The doctor came in and I knew I needed to ask soon. “Will the baby be ok?” “We are not sure,” she replied. “I know this is selfish-but will I be ok?” I will never forget one kind nurse with tears running down her face as she grabbed my hand and told me that was not a selfish question and she would make sure I was ok. Later I would find out I almost died. I was actually moments from stroking out. Even after the C-Section I was in ICU.

     When I awoke from the anesthesia there was my family, my boyfriend’s family and the doctors. I was told Dylan had Hydrops fetalis and they were doing all they can but we should bring in a priest. Before I knew it I was holding my lifeless son surrounded by people and a priest-but never felt more alone in the world.

     From that day on EVERYONE in my life acted as if it never even happened. As if Dylan had never existed. I was told “It is better this way. God was doing you a favor.” Most of my “friends” NEVER asked me how I was dealing, how I was feeling. Not one time. I remember my boyfriend going to a party at his house days later as I sat in the hospital. Were they celebrating? I remember my “friends” literally acting as if the whole thing was a relief. I was told to get over it. As if this was just a late term abortion to them. I started to feel guilty for feeling sadness. I suppressed my grief deep down into my soul. I was NOT allowed to feel sadness because I was a teen mom and because he was only a newborn. I was NOT allowed to cry. I was NOT allowed to feel pain. Eventually I was made to feel crazy when I had my nervous breakdown months later. I was told I was crazy by my friends and the people I cared about the most.

     Then just 4 weeks after my emergency C-Section I got a call from the school. I needed to start my school work or I would not graduate. NO sympathy. I was NOT allowed. A few days later I received a call from the gym teacher. I would need to play Tennis or fail gym. Pick a day and meet him. I JUST HAD A C-SECTION and LOST MY SON!!!! No one cared. I should not care…..I was not allowed to care.

     After graduating in June 2003 I self medicated.We will skip the graphic details of this time of my life for now. I was numb. I was dead. I wanted to die.

     By September 2003 I moved back home and got clean, and have been ever since. But even though we dealt with a few things-I never worked out Dylan’s death. I just repressed it and learned to deal. I learned to trust, to love, and to live. But I never grieved and I never had closure and so it all started coming back out when I gave birth to my son Edward. The fears of losing this little boy CONSUMED me. I felt like I had to do whatever it took to prevent the unknown.

2012 I finally met a therapist who made me write about Dylan. He made me talk about Dylan. He helped me release the darkness, and I will forever be grateful to him. I went back to school to follow my dreams of being a nurse and graduated valedictorian of my class. Here I am, pregnant in high school with many people assuming my life to be over and I am succeeding. It is amazing what you can accomplish when you release the darkness that strangles your light. I will be finally having a burial for my son this year, as I realized that is the last piece of releasing the sadness. Right now his ashes are at my parents house. He deserves a proper send off.    

My hopes with this blog entry is to 

1.) Finally tell my story as if it was my story 

and 

2.) Help reach out to others who have had a loss. It doesn't matter if you are 16 or 50. It doesn't matter if you were 5 weeks pregnant or 9 months pregnant. It doesn't matter if your child was 1 or 20. The loss of a baby, of a child is a loss. It is OK to grieve. It is OK to cry. It is OK to mourn. You are ALLOWED. I now volunteer my time at Grieve Out Loud, a pen pal community for those who have gone through infant and child loss.

I looked back at the woman in the mirror one last time and watched as the fear and sadness in her eyes turned to relief and calmness. A small smile begins to form at the corner of her mouth and she nods as if to thank me for giving her life back.

 This is a poem I wrote for my son that I will read and send off with him at the ceremony:

 I never got to see your eyes

Or feel your fingers wrap around mine

You were needed much more by the Lord above

Something I would learn in time

Did you hear my voice talk to you

At night when I couldn’t sleep

Did you know that when you left

My heart broke and I would weep

I often see the stars up above

Twinkling fast and free

And I hope and pray that you knew

How much you meant to me

We didn't have much time, you and I

Before the Lord called you to the home above

You were much too special for this earth

But please know that you were loved

               -CMZ 09/10/2012