06/02/2026
Today marks one year since we got the call from Dr. Perry that changed all our lives. I’ll never forget that day, and just how normal it was. Until it wasn’t. I’d woken up that morning excited to see how much Evie had grown since her one-month check-up. I wasn’t even worried when I saw a few drops of blood in the diaper I changed as we left the house. But the Lord spoke to me more clearly than He ever has in that moment.
“Take that with you.”
My heart hurts now when I think back to that appointment. I sat in the room happily playing with Evie as Dr. Perry took the diaper for testing and then came back and asked for a CBC. It never occurred to me that there was a real problem. Other than the diaper, Evie had almost no symptoms. She’d never been sick, never run a fever. Her lymph nodes weren’t even swollen. She was a little more fussy than most babies, but that was really it. Later, we’d learn that the fussiness was because her bones were hurting.
The drive to the hospital took a million years, and we barely spoke the entire time. When we got to the emergency room, Evie was stuck four times to get an IV for lab work. It was horrific. We held her while she screamed, choking back our own tears. It brought me right back to being a scared 25-year-old new mom, holding our sweet Allyson while she, too, screamed as she was stuck repeatedly. The final nurse to try had tears in his eyes as he finally got the IV in place.
It may have been minutes or even hours later when the oncologist walked in to tell us that Evie definitely had leukemia. The room seemed to grow dark as we clutched at our little baby while the oncologist gave us the news. I remember him saying, “I know this is the worst moment of your life, but I want you to know that there’s hope.”
But all I could think in that moment was that he was wrong. That this couldn’t possibly be the worst moment of my life. The worst moment of my life had already happened. Nearly 14 years ago. When our newborn Allyson was taken from my arms mere seconds after she was born. This wasn’t happening.
It couldn’t be happening.
The next morning was surreal. We woke up to realize that the nightmare was actually real, and we were still living in it. In my soul, I felt tainted and broken. Why were both of my girls born with life-threatening conditions? Allyson’s diagnosis with Pierre Robin Sequence was awful. It rocked our family and shattered our world in ways that took years to heal from. And even still, her battle continues. She’s had 19 surgeries and faces more. But cancer is a different thing altogether.
It was late that afternoon before we finally got the full test results. There was some good news. Evie had B-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, the most treatable type of leukemia. Dr. Kutny, Evie’s primary oncologist, came in right away with paperwork detailing a clinical trial for which Evie was a perfect candidate. We were still in shock and signed the forms without really even reading them.
Evie had to have a bone marrow biopsy and a central line placed before we were officially transferred to the eighth floor. The trauma we’d carried from Allyson’s health struggles was front and center as we handed our new baby off to surgery. It never gets easier, and now here we were again. I even recognized the nurse anesthetist from some of Allyson’s past surgeries. That was both comforting and heartbreaking. The biopsy revealed that Evie’s bone marrow was already 94% cancer cells. She had almost no healthy bone marrow left.
The news began to improve after that. When we finally sat down to read Evie’s clinical trial, we noticed the note at the bottom of the page: Protocol version 03/25/2025. Evie’s treatment protocol was published the day she was born!!! The Lord hadn’t abandoned us. He had a plan! There had always been a plan. We knew in that moment that, even though the road ahead of us was long, the Lord was going to save our baby.
Days later, Dr. Kutny came nearly bursting to give us more good news. Evie’s KMT2A gene was normal! He explained to us that KMT2A rearrangements are present in around 80% of infant leukemias, and it makes infants far more prone to relapse. But Evie’s chances would more closely resemble the cure rate in older kids. The next day, Evie had her first lumbar puncture, and we were relieved to discover that the cancer had not spread to her spinal fluid.
Induction, Evie’s first chemo cycle, was absolute hell. She was miserable, in pain and scared. We were terrified the whole time. We prayed so hard that our little baby wouldn’t give up. That she’d know more from life than this. But Evie proved herself to be an amazing fighter, much like her big sister, over and over again. And we got the best news in the world, only a week after induction ended. Evie was in REMISSION!! The treatment God provided for her was working.
Leukemia treatment is long, and Evie’s chemo is still ongoing. We’ve spent 184 days of the past year living inside Children's Hospital, with our family separated. And treatment won’t officially end until December 22 of next year. But somehow, Evie is still just a happy baby. Despite her age, she’s incredibly strong and refuses to let anything steal her joy. No matter how bad she feels, her light is infectious to everyone around, and it’s amazing to see. The staff on 8 QB have truly become her family, and we are eternally grateful to see the love they have for our baby. It shows in everything they do. We see the Lord’s hands working in every step of Evie’s treatment.
Psalm 100:5: For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations. ❤️🙏🏻