Hi, I’m Evie! I’m a wild child with a spitfire attitude, and my favorite thing to do is play with my bubba. I will turn two years old on Halloween.

Did you know God made me with just one kidney? The doctors took lots of pictures of me when I was still in my momma’s belly. They told her that my one kidney looked healthy to them as far as they could tell, so to expect a healthy baby girl.

But last year on April Fool’s day when I was 5 months old, we all woke up to a nasty surprise. After a 12 hour sleep, my diaper was still dry and my skin felt puffy. I felt terrible. I could tell my mom and dad were really scared. The doctors in the emergency room looked pretty concerned, too, or at least their eyes did. They wore weird paper things over the rest of their faces, and they insisted that Momma and Daddy wear them too.

They sent me and and my mom on a helicopter ride to another hospital where there was a doctor that could drain all the pee out of me through my back. The doctors made me fall asleep four other times and every time I woke up I had a new scar. Finally after a month, I felt lots better and my Daddy and Bubba came to rescue me from the hospital.

I had a really fun summer after that, playing in my backyard with my family. My mom took me to the hospital every two weeks where this lady with a really poky thing took blood out of my arm. The more times we went, the more worried my mom and dad looked. Momma talked to people on the phone a lot about “my labs.” She and Daddy gave me lots of nasty tasting stuff out of syringes everyday. I spit it out every chance I got.

One day, around my first birthday, my momma took a phone call and I heard her say words I hadn’t heard before: “kidney failure” and “dialysis.”

I celebrated my first birthday recovering from “dialysis catheter placement” surgery, and in December, these two really nice nurses taught Momma how to connect my “PD catheter” (which is just a fancy word for straw, I think) to a machine that puts warm fluid into my belly. I kind of like the feeling, to be honest, and I don’t feel as tired anymore. Plus, my dad feeds me much yummier food now. Although, sometimes I don’t feel like eating much, but I just get fed through a feeding tube when I feel that way.

Anyways, after this really strange routine of washing her hands and pushing lots of buttons, my momma hooks my straw up to that machine every night at home now, and has been for the last 8 months.

Although I still get poked by that lady a ton and still have to eat all that yucky stuff out of the syringes, now Momma’s phone calls are about “transplant.” She and Daddy give me a shot every night to help me grow. That’s why my doctor said I need to borrow someone else’s kidney, so I can grow up big and strong all on my own. You know, I think I’m poked and prodded more than the average one year old, but I think I gets loads of extra love, too.

Somehow my momma and daddy knew things weren’t going to be easy for me the day I was born. I think that’s why they changed their plans for my name last minute. Evie means “life” and they are hopeful God has a long one in store for me.