Today is my husband's 39th birthday.
Yesterday, he got a heart transplant.

He's in surgery again today, and after that, we're hoping that he's not going to need another major open-heart surgery. Ever again. Which, after the installation of an LVAD heart pump via multiple open-heart surgeries that saved his life last year...this is wild to think of.

We spent a quarter of the year in hospitals last year, about half of it in cardiac ICUs at three different hospitals. We weren't sure if we were ever going to get a heart transplant because two of the three hospitals didn't think he would survive long enough for one.

The last hospital--Duke University Hospital, the best hospital in the entire universe--even debated on whether he'd survive getting the pump. It's a million dollar surgery, and they had to weigh if it was worth the risk. Of his life.

But he got the pump. And we...adjusted. Daily, then weekly bandage changes. Drawers full of medication. Weekly, then monthly hospital trips. EKGs, echocardiograms, scans on top of scans.

We adjusted, because he was alive.

When COVID hit, some hope left. COVID attacks the lungs and the heart, and we were at higher risk due to that. Plus, it meant that transplants were temporarily paused. We showed up at appointments (after driving 3hrs to get there) and were turned away-too big a risk to enter bldg

We were told that transplants could take a day to five years before a heart that was viable would be available. When COVID hit, we assumed that meant the clock paused. It would be longer than before. Which is worrying because...

LVAD pumps are not meant to be forever. They're considered a "bridge to transplant"--a temporary life support system so a person can survive long enough for a transplant. In terms of numbers, it gave my husband a 80% chance of living to transplant

(In contrast, without the pump, he had a 15% chance to survive the year.)

Anyway, all this to say, when we got the call on Saturday that meant a heart was possibly available...we did not expect it to be true. It had been one year since the LVAD surgery. And COVID was still a threat.

But we got in the car. We scrambled for childcare--no children allowed in the hospital thanks to COVID. My husband hugged my five year old son, but it didn't hit us until later that, if all went well, he would not even see him again for at least a month.

(We tried very hard not to think about what would happen if things didn't go well, but we made a video, in the hospital room. Just in case.)

Hours ticked by. We arrived at the hospital before the heart did. We waited to see if it was viable. It was. Then we waited to see if it was a match.

And we waited.

And it was.

COVID restrictions at the hospital are hard--but absolutely necessary. Visiting hours are extremely limited, and, as I mentioned, my child cannot see his father for the entirety of his very long hospital stay.

(Another hidden burden of COVID: no childcare. We only trust my mother, who's been in our quarantine pod, to watch him. He cannot come into the hospital w. me. The hospital is 3.5 hours away from home. And no children activities--not even parks--are open.)

But, all that to say--I just got a call from the hospital that he's entering his last surgery (hopefully). He survived the first crucial 24 hours. His body seems to have accepted the heart.

I keep thinking of the donor. It was likely the donor's family's worst day--and our best day.

The kind of gift that a donor and the donor's family gives--it is more than words can say. It's godly. It's the definition of grace. It's astounding.

There is--finally--a light at the end of this tunnel.

Today is my husband's birthday.
And yesterday he got a heart.

I also want to use this space to thank @EvelynSkyeBooks for organizing a Go Fund Me, and I want to thank every single person who helped or shared. I feel so guilty accepting help, knowing others need and deserve it more.

But when I saw the GFM had been made and the gift of help that it had created...I cannot tell you the feeling of relief when a burden was lifted from my shoulders that I had not even been aware was there. I felt like I cd breathe again, w/o realizing my chest had been constricted

Thank you.

And I am sure my husband would thank you for the best birthday ever, even though he's sleeping through it on the operating room table, the total slacker. https://www.gofundme.com/f/wa7py3-heart-transplant-recovery

I have never understood fully what grace was before this moment.

And I will never be able to thank you all enough.

But I will try.