Life by 100 miracles. Let’s start here. 

100 miracles made by a Way maker. A promise keeper. A miracle worker. If you don’t have faith, you just seem to find some in a story like Elie’s. It is with immense joy, and relief-I say that both Eliana and Justin are recovering, and making great strides in their healing journeys. Our surgical team-for both Justin and Elie- are so talented, and we could not be more grateful for the successful outcomes. A miracle. There was a small hiccup late in the day of Elie’s surgery, resulting in her night in the PICU with her abdomen not sutured closed yet. She was in great hands. Our overnight nurse Whitney could not of been more gracious, supportive, confident in her work, and overall a huge advocate for Elie, especially with the pain she was in.  We really lucked out and had her as our night nurse three nights in a row. A miracle. The outcome of Elie’s complication was reported by the surgeons as “The best, of best case scenarios”.. the issue resolved itself, and there was no reason to go back into the OR to correct it, but simply close her up. A miracle. I can not rave enough about the surgical team, hepatology team, our nurses, techs, pharmacy team, and everyone in rounds that contributes to conversation in Elie’s wellbeing. She has a long road ahead, and we aren’t discharged home yet. She is one resilient little girl, who through the discomfort or pain.. still manages to give me some gummy smiles, and scrunched nose sniffs. New liver- who dis. Elie has WHITE SCLERAS.. whites around her eyes. Yellow was so last month.. (yet she will always be our Golden Girl). She has not lost ALL of her olive complexion, and still has some of her mama’s tan skin.. (a miracle). This Paired Living Donor Exchange is our hospitals first ever, and is such a sensational story I get to share with my daughter one day. Her story. Her history. Her second chance of life, because 100 miracles, all in alignment how they should be. I hope to one day have an update on our amazing donor, and Justin’s blessed recipient. So many of these miracles for us to truly be delighted, and grateful for because of the brave and courageous donors who stepped up. I am so proud of my husband. And although it hurts him to breathe, he has a crazy incision, and so many hurtles headed his way.. he said that next day to me “and I would do it again”. To Elie’s donor.. I thank you for keeping my favorite Christmas present home with me. My one girl that is mine. My husbands face on a mini me. I’ve never looked forward to getting overstimulated, by the click-clacking of her one day, first ever plastic princess heels in the kitchen so much. Thank you. You are our miracle. Our entire family is blessed by your enormous selflessness, and altruistic act. “Thank you”, will never suffice.

Now, death by a 1000 paper cuts. 

A slow pain, a sharp burn..and a lot of them. One that your brain KNOWS you have to endure in order for things to get better. It WILL get harder, before you will see even the dimmest of light at the end of the tunnel. Even though your heart could never be prepared for what’s to come, you convince yourself you’re ready for the storm. Its like being in autopilot and watching a doctor speaking directly to you, even looking into your eyes.. and you only can watch their mouths move.. no sound, you don’t really hear what they’re saying, but you respond accordingly and you keep it moving.. on to the next. My husband and I now know the feeling of what seems to be, that we are the only patients left in the entire hospital, after waiting 10 hours to hear our baby girl is done and ready for us to see her. I now have endured so much worry, and exhaustion that there was nothing left to do but drop to my knees in the middle of a late night, quiet and empty hospital hall.. just to get it all out, while my husband sat next to me and allowed me the space to do so. A pain of being away from our other children and wanting nothing more but to be  hugging them tighter through this season. A pain of knowing I can’t be in 3 places at once, although every fiber of my being yearns to be there. I say these things, in hopes that if someone is reading this, and you are experiencing something similar or have previously gone through something like this.. find comfort in knowing you’re not alone, and never were. It’s a death by 1000 paper cuts. Small, jarring, unexpected, painful.. however, at the end, this hard season of life ends in the death of your hardship. There is more battle to be fought, and a fair share of more “paper cuts”. But Justin and I are choosing to celebrate the death of these wounds.. of the past worries, anxieties, uncertainties, and surprise hurts.. even if we got here after enduring 1000 paper cuts. 

I can’t end this update without thanking my mom, sisters and in-laws. They have stepped up, and this whole thing just would not be possible without their support and presence. It is so taxing and exhausting, and the CHOOSE to voluntarily be here for it. My sisters for helping out where needed and never hesitating to be there, or drive 4 hours to be here for 2 days, just so my Luca could have a little cousin time.

We are incredibly blessed. And I thank you for giving me time to endure this specific paper cut prior to updating everyone personally on the status of recovery. I know it’s been on everyone’s minds and hearts. So thank you for your continued love and support of COTA in honor of Eliana. We are feeling all your prayers.