"Don't worry! Everything's fine," my husband reassured me.
Only it wasn't fine.
An hour passed. The simple surgery to remove her gall bladder was now past two hours.
When the doctor came out and asked for me to sign a release to give blood, I felt panic rising in my heart. What was going on? You don't give blood during a simple surgery. Unless...
I began to pray. I found an empty spot and sang to Jesus and cried out to Him to keep my baby safe. Texts were made to my children, sister, and closest friends, begging them to pray.
During that time, my daughter was bleeding out on the operating table. They had no idea why. They gave her one pint of blood and then another. Still she was bleeding out. They made plans to airlift her to another hospital, making calls to arrange for another surgeon.
Not knowing any of this was going on, I just kept praying. My daughter Julianna arrived. Then, Jenny Rose arrived. We waited. We worried. We prayed.
A transplant specialist, famous in central Florida, just happened to be free and decided to drive an hour to the hospital rather than have her airlifted so she could be kept stable. There was another consent to be signed. I still didn't know what was going on and I was scared. We all just kept praying and asking God to save our little girl.