Word is that Cheryl is approved to donate a kidney to Quinn from her team! Completely awesome and overwhelming and kind of unbelievable. We still need approval from Quinn’s team, but we are very close. And then there’s That Liver (which we should ALL refer to as That Liver, hoping to shame it into behaving).

It’s hard to describe what going through transplant #2, child #2 feels like. I can’t really lay claim to it being new and shocking, but it is new and shocking in its own way.

The same fears are still there, but they are buried. Because Gage’s transplant was successful, I have an expectation about Quinn’s being successful. Unfortunately, there are the same risks for complications and I can’t ignore them.

Cheryl is offering Quinn the chance to stay off dialysis. She’s offering the chance for Quinn to feel better and have a better quality of life. A life of energy to match the sassy her personality embodies. It’s hard not to hope for those things for Quinn with reckless abandon.

So there is a delicate balance inside my head that is taking place at any time during the average day. It’s balancing the hope while bracing for the (scary) possibilities because we’re a family that must deal in the reality of a life of uncertainty. Most days, average days, I’m able to act and move along like your average mom taking care of regular things for our regular family. But every so often the family we really are creeps in and I fear for the lives of my kids. I wonder how could we make it through everything we’ve been through as an intact, functioning family with laughter and love and promise if our worst fears are realized.

And so, for today — most especially today — we’ll be celebrating a life of promise in front of us. And we’ll hope that Cheryl can indeed give Quinn the ability to sassy her way well into adulthood.

That’s my choice today. And I will fiercely protect it for as long as my heart will let me.