29/05/2026
Officially 9 days until admission.
This week brings a few more appointments before we begin this journey all over again. Ariah has her usual clinic visit on June 1 for labs, and on June 4 she will have a chest scan. Because she’s still so small, the team wants to get a detailed look at her current central line placement so they know exactly where to place her new one during surgery on June 8.
I used to think that with time, all of this would get easier. It doesn’t. If anything, it gets harder. As Ariah gets older and more aware of what’s happening around her, the weight of it all feels different.
On June 1, before clinic, Ariah will receive a blessing at the church we’ve been attending here in Cincinnati. We go an hour before Mass, when the church is quiet and empty, and it’s just us. Afterward, we’ll head to clinic to sign the transplant consent forms. A day filled with faith, hope, and some very difficult conversations.
We know what’s ahead. We know the risks, the sacrifices, and the long road that follows. But we’re also trying our best not to let the fear of tomorrow steal the joy from today.
And thankfully, there has been so much joy.
Since arriving at the Ronald McDonald House, we’ve met some truly incredible families. Some are walking paths similar to ours, while others are facing battles we know nothing about. Yet every single one has shown us kindness, support, and friendship during a season when we needed it most.
When we first arrived, Ariah was so much smaller. One thing that has never changed, though, is how friendly she is. We first met Katherine and Teagan, and to this day Ariah lights up whenever she sees them around the Ronald. Later, we met Danny and Tippie, and they have all been so incredibly sweet not only to Ariah, but to Gilbert and me as well.
Recently, Ariah had her very first playdate with the girls. Watching her laugh, play, and simply be a kid was one of those moments I truly loved witnessing.
As parents, we spend so much time focused on appointments, labs, procedures, and preparing for what’s next. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that childhood is happening in between all of it.
So before admission, we’re holding tightly to these moments. The friendships. The laughter. The playdates. The memories being made.
Because while another transplant is right around the corner, today Ariah is happy, loved, and surrounded by people who care about her. And that’s what we’re choosing to focus on.
