12/08/2026
💫Today is one of those days I know I’ll remember forever.
She’s gaining weight, her transplant labs looked great, her liver enzymes are getting stable, and we’re stopping some medications and reducing others.
A few months ago, we were living minute by minute. Every day brought another lab, another scan, another procedure, another conversation we never imagined we’d have to have. There wasn’t time to process anything because we were just trying to make it through each day.
Holding my Navi without a tube on her face, a line coming out of her arm, or something attached to her little body brings me peace. I know that might sound like such a small thing, but to me, it feels monumental.
I’ve spent a lot of today looking back through old pictures. I was completely blinded by a mother’s love. I knew she was sick. I knew she was in liver failure. I knew she needed a transplant. But looking back now, I don’t think I truly realized just how sick she really was. Looking at her today, smiling and laughing and getting to just be a baby, it’s almost impossible to believe we’re looking at the same little girl.
I know everything hasn’t fully hit me yet. In a lot of ways, I still feel like I’m living one appointment to the next, one set of labs to the next, one medication change to the next. But with every milestone, I feel like I’m finally starting to come up for air.
Transplant isn’t the end of our story. It isn’t a cure—it is a second chance.
We’ll always have medications, frequent labs, appointments, and this incredible gift to protect. That reality doesn’t make today any less joyful. If anything, it makes milestones like this even more meaningful.
I don’t know if this is the kind of day I’ll fully appreciate now, or years from now when I look back at these pictures. Either way, I know I’ll never forget it.