Monday, April 18, 2016

This girl melts my heart.

La Petite Belle has always tugged on my heartstrings. Beau says she's always played me. I don't see it that way. She's my baby, that's all. K Belle would most likely agree that I've babied La Petite Belle, but, like I said ... she's the baby.

We had the sweetest conversation with our precious La Petite Belle last night.

She was particularly sad throughout the day. She ended up having some pretty intense nausea all day and, by the end of the day, vomited quite a bit of blood again. Obviously that all had to come out. Before that her hemoglobin was holding steady for almost four days, which was the longest it had held on in a while.

As you can imagine, vomiting blood is quite scary. I would be a little freaked out if I did it.

Her stomach settled down after that. I tucked her into bed and she began to cry. I asked her what was wrong, other than the obvious. Because there are times you have to just cry here, and there's not really one specific reason, but you just have to cry.

She looked at me, through tears, and said, "I love you so much."

I told her I loved her too.

She looked over at Beau and said, "I just want y'all to know how much I really love y'all."

I told her we did.

She said, "I feel like I have taken life for granted. We don't know what tomorrow holds and I want to make sure y'all know that. I haven't told y'all enough how much I love y'all. I want to tell y'all a lot every day."

Yes, there were tears.

She was a little down and definitely more worried because of the vomiting ... afraid of the unknown, afraid of what tomorrow holds.

Beau encouraged her. He reminded her that she still had a lot of life to live. She agreed and will continue to fight no matter how long it takes. In fact, she stated that very thing ... "I don't care how long it takes as long as I can live."

Sweet girl. This is a lot for a 15-year-old to handle ... a lot for a kid at any age. And, being a parent who is helpless in all this, you begin to realize all you can do is hold their hands, love them, comfort them, encourage them, and pray for them. 

Through this whole journey, I am getting to see what an incredible girl she is. She continues to amaze me with her strength and teaches me to make the most of every moment in life. Take nothing for granted. Live life to the fullest and always say "I love you" to those you love.

This girl has ALWAYS lived her life ALL IN! We love that about her!

Thank you for continuing to pray, stand, and believe with us for La Petite Belle's complete healing!
If you would like to financially support Katie's (aka La Petite Belle) journey to healing, you can find more information here:  All funds go to cover medical bills and expenses. 

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Fight or Die

That's the choice I tell La Petite Belle she has when she wakes up in the mornings saying she can't do this for another day. I ask her what the alternative is. There are only two choices right now: fight or die. If you're not going to fight, if you're going to give up, then the choice is death. If you say you're going to fight, it's going to be hard, REALLY hard, unbearable at times, but you have to push through.

I say this to myself every day when I wake up with tears streaming down my face, knowing I also have to face another day of this ... a day of watching my child hurting, a day of no answers, a day of not knowing what the future holds, a day of waiting, a day of heartbreak over what has been stolen from my sweet girl and our family.  I cry. I wipe the tears away. I ask God for help. And, I get up again.

Is it hard? Absolutely.

But, I have no other choice. I have to fight for my daughter, as she fights for her life.

I am weepy as I type this because it is exactly a year ago today that I rushed La Petite Belle to the ER after lab work ordered by her doctor. (You can read the full story and her diagnosis here.)
This was the picture I posted of her that day. I scarcely can remember this fun-loving girl. Chronic pain and near-death experiences change a person.
When I've asked La Petite Belle, after she says she's scared, about what she's scared of ... fighting or dying, whatever it may be, she says she's not afraid of where she's going, just afraid of being without us. Oh my heart. And, this is why she fights. She said she would live every day in pain if it meant she could be with us. Oh my heart again ... aching, breaking.

There have been many ups and downs, many tears shed. Just when I think I have no more tears to shed, they come again.

I have had a broken heart before ... many times. But, never like this. I feel my heart break a little more each and every day. I think it's not even a heart anymore, but just crumbled pieces of what it used to be. Unrecognizable. 

I am unrecognizable to myself. We are all unrecognizable at this point. I have lost my passion for anything. I have no desires, no wants. I feel dead inside. My only desire, the only yearning of my heart is healing and health for my girl.

There are honestly days where I do feel hopeless, despite the fact that I know God is very present with me. Despair has become my closest friend. It's a very dark place to be. Lonely. Waiting for God to move, to answer, to provide the promise, to heal.

I'm sure you are appalled that such a "strong" Christian could be in such a place. But, I'm here to tell you that it happens. And, it happened to so many in the Bible who were close to God.

David wrote this and it so adequately expresses my inner self at this moment:
Day and night, I have only tears for food, while my enemies continually taunt me, saying, "Where is this God of yours?" My heart is breaking as I remember how it used to be. I walked among the crowd of worshipers, leading a great procession to the house of God, singing for joy and giving thanks--it was the sound of a great celebration! Why am I discouraged? Why so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise Him again--my Savior and my God! -Psalm 42:3-6

I weep.
The enemy taunts me, asking "Where is God, your Healer? Why would He allow this? Why would He not rescue your daughter from such pain? Where is He?"
My heart breaks a little more each day and I'm reminded of our life before this.
I'm reminded of the years my family has served in ministry. 
Our life has become something we don't recognize nor understand.
I'm reminded of all the truths I've learned throughout the years of serving God.
Yes, I am discouraged and sad ...

BUT STILL, I put my hope in God and praise Him for who He is.

No matter what, we will praise Him. No matter what, we will serve Him.
That's not to say we don't and won't hurt, but STILL we cling to Him.
It's the only thing we know to do. We know He is faithful.

La Petite Belle continues to fight as hard as she can against something fighting so strong against her poor body. We are into our 4th month inpatient and extremely heartbroken and frustrated. She continues to have some bleeding in her GI tract, but no specific spots where they could be cauterized to stop it. Her gut is just oozing. This is all still a result of the GVHD. Her pain is still severe, related mainly to that darn BK virus affecting her bladder. Her spasms and stomach cramping is excruciating. She is back on a continuous pain pump with demand doses when she needs them, but nothing really seems to touch the pain. The meds just make her extremely groggy. She's about on the 6th day of the new medicine since she's not responding a whole lot to the increase in steroids. At this point, the doctors don't have much more to offer other than just "wait and see". That's it. We wait. We see if she starts to really respond to something. This is the 3rd time she has had a bad flare-up and we took steps back in her treatment. The bad thing about this time is that she is on more steroids again after she had been weaned quite a bit and on a lot of pain meds, which had also been weaned. We were so close to really having a way to get rid of the BK virus. Her stomach is severely inflamed the doctors said, after her last scope. They couldn't even biopsy it because it was so fragile and they didn't want to cause more damage. So, day-in and day-out, we wait. I wake up each morning hoping for a breakthrough, for a miracle, for something to work. This is all very hard on a mama's heart, and a daddy's heart breaks just as easily, maybe more sometimes.

We continue to pray and ask God to continue His work of healing, that La Petite Belle's pain would be gone, that the virus would be gone, that she would respond to the meds ... honestly, just for a miracle in her body. Thanks to so many who are praying hard for us and standing in agreement with us for our baby girl's complete healing. We appreciate every single prayer.

If you would like to financially support Katie's (aka La Petite Belle) journey to healing, you can find more information here:  All funds go to cover medical bills and expenses. 

Monday, April 4, 2016

No Words

(Our hospital room is full of Scriptures like this.)

When something tragic happens ... something really hard ... a difficult situation, whatever it may be, it's hard to find words to express how you're feeling and what's going on inside your head.

There's all the typical "Christiany" things you can say ... the same things people will say to you, hoping their words will help. But, unfortunately, they don't. And, unfortunately, everything you read that you think can help carry you through, really doesn't. Unfortunately, there are just no words sometimes. No words you can say to yourself, no matter how much Scripture you have memorized for such a time is this. And, no words that other people can say.

I find the only words I can say lately are "this sucks" and "there's nothing to say."

Have I given up on God?

Let me be TOTALLY honest with you .. the answer is NO. 

However, I have had moments where I've felt such despair and felt like I've lost hope. That's the worst place to be. Once you've lost hope, there's nothing to keep you going. 

I realize our ONLY hope is Jesus.

When all else fails, He's there, despite what I see and our situation.

There are many times I'm just angry ... angry that this happened, angry about everything the enemy has stolen from us, angry for what my daughter is missing right now as I scroll through social media and see everyone else's daughters getting to experience the things they should be right now. 

I have said "it's not fair" in my mind a thousand times. But, we all know life just isn't fair. Not at all.

There isn't a day that goes by where tears are not a part of our day. 

We feel sad. We feel alone.
We KNOW that God is with us so please don't misunderstand me.
You can still feel alone all while knowing He is still holding you.
That may not make any sense at all, but that's the best way I can explain it.
We do feel lonely.
This situation is hard and we are far away from pretty much everyone we love. That feels lonely.

The other part of this that hurts is seeing all the families who have come and gone in the matter of time that we've been here. Some have gone with not-so-good news, while most leave out of here better.

My heart has not only ached for our own situation, but for those here who receive the devastating words, "we've done everything we can do" or "they're just not responding to treatment." I cry just typing those words. There are families here who have experienced things far worse than we have.

Tomorrow marks exactly three months that we've been inpatient. January 5th we came with an overnight bag just in case we were admitted and we go into our fourth month continuing to not know when this will end.

La Petite Belle has had lots of ups and downs through this. 

The doctors expected we could be released by the end of this week, but don't think that's going to happen. She's been put back on IV meds and her steroids increased again because her GVHD has flared up again. This all happening after being weaned for so many weeks was heartbreaking. Her pain meds have been changed up a bit and a new one added which I think may be helping more than before. Thank God for that. She has started a new anti-viral to get rid of that BK virus that is the culprit causing so much pain. There are risks to it, so we're hoping it works quickly so she can get off of it.

I am ready for a "normal" and boring life. I am ready for a healthy daughter who can enjoy her life again. I am ready to feel like we're a family again. I am ready to get out of here and have a place that we can call home and all be together.

But, I am also realizing that I have to be content. Being content in every situation is what Paul talked about. That's where I'm struggling. I am not content about watching my daughter suffer day-in and day-out. But, I am trying to be content in knowing that God's got us in His hands and everything is under His control. If I say I trust Him, I have to be content. 

No matter how dire the circumstances are ... no matter how heartbroken I am ... no matter how many tears I cry ... I STILL have to be content. I have to be content in knowing He's got this. I can't be tossed back and forth every time we get a bad report. I have to trust and continue to be content.

Now, it's not easy. Not at all. Like I said, I literally cry every day.
Then, after I wipe my tears, I rest for a while.

So ... as far as an update goes on our girl and what's expected, I honestly don't know much anymore. Things change so quickly and I'm just trying to rest that, no matter how long we're here, that she will recover and be better for it. This isn't a short journey. In fact, this month marks a year since her diagnosis. 

We will keep pressing on ... trusting, crying, screaming, praying, believing, resting, hoping.
Thank you all for continuing to pray and believe for complete healing for La Petite Belle.

If you would like to financially support Katie's (aka La Petite Belle) journey to healing, you can find more information here:  All funds go to cover medical bills and expenses.

Friday, March 25, 2016

An Unpredictable Good Friday

I've often wondered why it's called "Good" Friday. It's the day Jesus was tortured, nailed to the cross, and died. I mean, I get it. It was for OUR good ... the good of all mankind. But, the Father God had to have been hurting on that day.

I can't compare our current situation with that of Jesus and the Father, but I have tiny glimpses of what He had to have felt. To watch His Son go through such agonizing pain had to have been torturous for Him, too. For His Son to ask Him to take the pain away if He could, and the Father to simply not be able to do that, had to have also been devastating for the Father's heart.

La Petite Belle has stripes on her back ... literal stripes. Her back looks like she's been clawed by a bear. The high-dose steroids she has been on have wrecked her skin. She had the MOST BEAUTIFUL skin ... the best in the family, that smooth, dark complexion. K Belle was always envious of it.

Every time I look at her back, I think of what Jesus went through to purchase her very healing.
I also think of what the Father saw and how He felt.

Just as it breaks my heart to see her in pain, I know it broke His. The difference is that He saw the bigger picture. I do not. In fact, I don't see ANYTHING but what today holds. I have no clue what tomorrow or the next day, week, or months hold. 

I know there is a plan and I'm just trying to trust in it. I'm just trying to surrender to a Holy God who knows way more than I do. I'm just trying to focus on who He is and what He says about us.

While I am thankful for the steroids, which have put her GVHD at bay, I hate everything else they have done ... the bleeding ulcer, the dark, red marks on her body, the high blood pressure, the high blood sugar, the insulin shots, not to mention the mental anxiety. There's probably more things I'm forgetting.

This "Good" Friday we spend in the hospital.

This Easter we spend in the hospital.
(our view of MD Anderson from our window)

But, as she lies here in the bed, I can't help to think about this being the day that Jesus paid for her healing. This is it. 

Despite what I see and the things that are going on, He paid for it. There's no doubt about it. When her body will line up with that fact is beyond me. I'm ready for it for sure. We all are.

This weekend, I will continue to reflect on Jesus' death on the cross and all that He went through, not only for humanity to finally be in communion with God the Father again, but specifically for humanity to be healed and whole. 

And included in humanity is our sweet daughter who continues to fight for this healing.

I have no idea what today holds. Each day is so unpredictable. One day, she seems much better, and the next day, she takes a nose dive and we seem to take a step backwards.

There has been actual talk all week about trying to get us discharged by March 31st. Whether that will actually happen or not is the question. She is not as far along in the healing process as everyone expected her to be today. She had a huge drop in hemoglobin yesterday so the search is on for where all that bleeding is coming from, yet again. She had actually been holding on to her blood counts pretty well after the other scare a couple of weeks ago. We seemed to definitely be on our way out.

I'm trying not to lose hope that it could still be a possibility. It could happen. But, also trying not to be filled with disappointment at the thought of another full week or more here.

Thank you for continuing to faithfully stand with us, praying and believing for La Petite Belle's FULL recovery and healing. Also, pray that she would be able to quickly gain her strength back. She has become very weak during the months we've been here, and she hasn't felt very well each time physical therapy has come around. Pray for all bleeding to continue to subside, her counts to remain stable, no infections, no more nausea, no more pain. I know I've said this before but ... enough is enough.

If you would like to financially support Katie's (aka La Petite Belle) journey to healing, you can find more information here:  All funds go to cover medical bills and expenses.

Friday, March 18, 2016


I told Beau yesterday that I've gone from anxious to leaving this hospital to now being comfortable here ... maybe comfortable is not the right word, but just accustomed to being here. 

That sounds pretty pitiful, but after being here for almost three months now, that's how my feelings have changed.

I don't want to be accustomed to this place. I definitely don't want to be comfortable here. I'd rather this be unfamiliar and foreign to me.

Even La Petite Belle said that at this point, she doesn't care when she gets out of here, as long as she can be pain-free. Agreed.

I've grown accustomed to the pull-out couch ...
to the daily routine ...
to the Keurig machine in the family room ...
to the very heavy IV pole I have to get over the threshold to the bathroom ...
to the full parking garages ...
to changing a hospital bed ...
to the ice machine adjacent to our room ...
to the wait for a washer on the 16th floor ...
to the view of MD Anderson from our window ...

and to being VERY comfortable with most of the nurses and doctors.

So comfortable that I've told them NOT to tell me one more time that "this is a long process" or "this is going to take a long time." Yeah. I got that.

So, they don't say it now. And, then they tell the next attending doctor not to say the same.

We had a setback this week, just when the doctors were finally talking about discharge by the end of the month.

La Petite Belle collapsed again, unconscious. This time on the bed. Thank God for that! I told her she was really putting that "fall risk" wristband to work. 

The moment was pretty scary. She was unresponsive to me, which sent me out the door, yelling "Help! Help in here!" Before I knew it, there was a team of people in the room. She was given oxygen and all kinds of tests were run. It was scary to her also. She started to panic once she realized this had happened again.

Her passing out, turns out, was due to the same reason as before ... losing blood. She had been vomiting earlier in the week with more blood. Her hemoglobin had dropped drastically, just within a day. 

The doctors pumped her full of blood, platelets, and plasma. They drew blood for all kinds of tests and did an ultrasound. She was even sent down for an MRI. After everything came back, it seems she has a bacteria in her blood. This same bacteria is most likely the cause for a step back with her GI issues that had been occurring the previous days. Now, she is on antibiotics to get rid of it and hopefully she will be back on track with her healing very soon.

When La Petite Belle collapsed, Beau was here soon after. Knowing that he could be here or we could be here in no time confirmed even more the decision we made to move closer to Houston. Although being here is still a difficult transition for us all, we know that God has brought us here.

I have learned something very important during this time and it's this:
Your faith does not make things hurt less. 
Your faith gives you comfort through the hurt and hope for the future.

But, when you walk through hard stuff, it just hurts. It hurts terribly. There's no way around it.

I'm learning to LEAN IN to the hurt and not bury it or try to distract myself from it.
God is in the hurt.
There's healing when you lean in.
God wants to hear from us in the hurt.
We may not get the answers we want, but He still wants us to tell Him our fears and concerns.
He comforts. He holds us.
And, when we truly love Him, we have to truly trust in His plan, even when we don't understand it.

Today, and every day, that is what we do.
We simply have to trust. We have to trust in a God to whom we dedicated La Petite Belle, as a baby, long ago ... that He would protect her ... that He would guide her ... that He would watch over her ... that He would use her to further His kingdom.
We just have to trust, comfortable in knowing He's got this under control.

If you would like to financially support Katie's (aka La Petite Belle) journey to healing, you can find more information here:  All funds go to cover medical bills and expenses.

Monday, March 7, 2016


So much has happened since I last posted ... more than I ever wanted or expected to happen.

"Critical" was the condition she was in last week as we found ourselves in the ICU for three days.

Early Tuesday morning, La Petite Belle woke up vomiting. She had been vomiting for a few days, but it seemed different than before. She was having more nausea. The vomiting that occurred that morning and that would continue over the next day became more bloody and in high volumes. It's sad that I now can differentiate between fresh-blood vomit and old-blood vomit. But, it's something I've had to learn, along with so many other countless things I never wanted to even know about.

That morning, as I was helping La Petite Belle back from the bathroom to the bed, she collapsed on the floor. Most of the nursing staff rushed in to help get her to the bed. She was unable to put any weight on her feet or use her legs at all. 

As she fell to the ground, she said, "I just have to lay here for a little while." There was no getting her up without help. As the nursing staff was helping, she became incoherent. One nurse was calling her name over and over and saying, "Are you still with us?"

This was, by far, the scariest moment yet until another one that would soon follow.

The nurses did get her back in bed after about 30 minutes. Turns out she had lost way too much blood. Her hemoglobin was the lowest it's ever been ... dangerously low. Her platelets were equally low. The string of transfusions began.

The GI doctors and surgery doctors were called to consult and she was scheduled for another scope the next day. The vomiting and blood loss continued throughout the night and she ended up getting the procedure done earlier in the morning. Our doctor was extremely anxious to get us down to the OR.

We sat in the waiting room. We waited. And, waited.

Some of my very best friends actually had driven up for the day, unbeknown to them that this was a day I was really going to need them. They sat with us.

Over two hours later, the doctor came out and took us into a private room. During this time, he proceeded to tell us that at the base of her stomach, near her small intestines, she was simply oozing blood. There was no certain vessel or anything that could be cauterized or taken care of. No quick fix. She basically had a large bleeding ulcer at the top of her small intestines.

The doctor said she was in critical condition and that she would need to be monitored in the ICU. They had to give her 12 units of platelets and 4 units of blood just in the two hours she was in the operating room. They called even more doctors into the OR as she was on the table to consult. She needed to get stabilized and they needed to try to stop the bleeding with medications. Overnight they would monitor her and be able to give her blood more quickly if she needed it. They also had placed an NG tube in her stomach to suction out all the blood so that they could measure how much was coming out. If the volume of blood was large and they couldn't get her bleeding under control, they would have to go in the next day to scope her lower than they were able to. Depending on what they saw then would determine if, as the doctor said, they would need to "open her up." 

I'm sorry. What? "Open her up?"
This is not something you want to here as a possibility for your child who is having trouble stopping bleeding.

The next 24 hours would tell us which way this would go.

I have figured out on this roller coaster ride that being scared is a very real thing. 
And, that being scared happens even when you trust God. It's part of being human. I don't beat myself up over that stuff anymore. There are moments when I'm definitely scared. And, there are moments when I definitely rest in God's arms.

Our time in the ICU was LONG. It was emotional. It was certainly uncomfortable as there are no couches in the rooms. Sleep was limited during this time. We were all exhausted. We lost our room on the BMT floor and had to move all our things out. Thank God for our friends who were here exactly when we needed them. They prayed with us, held our hands, hugged us, and moved all our stuff. Coincidence they were here on this day? I think not.

After the second night in the ICU, seeing countless containers of blood being pumped out of her stomach, something immediately changed. I know that it was God moving on our girl's behalf and in her body. Within just a short couple of hours, the container of blood was no more and the only thing coming out was normal stomach stuff ... bile and normal water/secretions. They continued to monitor it.  

La Petite Belle hated not being able to shower or bathe. Like a good daddy, Beau washed and conditioned her hair using a basin. It helped her feel so much better.

By late that afternoon, a room became available back on the BMT floor and we were outta there. I'd never thought I'd see the day La Petite Belle was crying to go back to the 8th floor. It's what she knows. It's where she's comfortable. Everyone knows her there. She even gave the doctors a hug and cried about being able to finally go back up.

This was our second "serious" or "critical" moment. We had an earlier one before this, involving her kidneys and the words "kidney failure" and "renal failure" were also used. 

This is very bumpy road that we're on. Just when she's improving in one area, she seems to experience setbacks. But, no more. I've had enough of this. This particular setback was caused by the treatment (steroids) for the GVHD. 

There are so many other things going on that just would be too much information to post, but just know that this thing she's fighting is a beast. Not only physically, but mentally and spiritually. As I've told her from the time she was a little girl ... the enemy would fight against her. He would like nothing better than to see her dead. He ALWAYS comes to STEAL, KILL, and DESTROY. La Petite Belle has always been a force to be reckoned with and we've known from the beginning that she had a great call on her life. It's never been more evident than now.

We definitely have felt all of your prayers and love. Thank you for your support, messages, and comments.

We continue to believe God for La Petite Belle's TOTAL, COMPLETE healing. And, no more setbacks. We pray only for her to move forward toward a full recovery.

Another sweet friend sent a box of goodies to me and this Scripture (Psalm 91:4) was stamped on everything:

It's truly where I find myself most of the time ...


Simply hiding under His wings. 

Although I don't understand most things about what we're going through, I still know He hides me. He holds me. It's the only place we can feel safe when life is hard and we have no answers. Even when we don't where He's leading us or what He's doing, He still hides us. We can still hold onto Him for dear life. With everything that's within me, that's where I am. Not knowing. Not thinking. Just holding. Just hiding.

If you would like to financially support Katie's (aka La Petite Belle) journey to healing, you can find more information here:  All funds go to cover medical bills and expenses.

Thursday, February 25, 2016

What would you do in your most intense moment of pain?

I thought about that question last night.

Yesterday marked nine days in which La Petite Belle has been in pain. Some days are worse than others. Yesterday seemed to me more manageable than the rest.

However, some intense pain hit her in the early evening. It was the worst of the day.

In that moment, she grabbed my hand and said, "Can we pray?"

This is not uncommon for her to do. She asks quite frequently when her pain is pretty severe and we will immediately pray for relief and strength.

But, this time was different.

In this particular moment, she didn't ask to pray for herself at all, despite her pain level being high. She said this: "Can we pray for Mrs. Kindra, Anais, and Paige? I want to pray that no one ever has to go through this and they would never have to experience how hard this is." The people she asked to pray for are people who are about to or are going through transplants. She admitted "this is so hard." We already knew this, but to hear her say it makes it even harder.

She cried at the thought of them experiencing the pain she has been in. I cried. It was another precious moment where I was able to see inside my girl's heart. She has ALWAYS had a big heart for people and shown compassion for those who are hurting.

Don't get me wrong. There are definitely lots of times when pain comes where she can only focus on the pain. That's the majority of the time actually. Most of us would do that. I often think about childbirth and the moments of intense pain that I had as I watch her go through these times. I guarantee you that I DID NOT ask to pray for anyone during those times. My mind was consumed with the pain that was going on in my body. All I wanted was relief.

If we could all remember to pray for those around us even when we're experiencing some of our darkest and most painful moments, things could turn around in our own lives. Praying for others gets our focus off of our own problems. I'm going to remind myself next time I'm in pain to pray for someone else ... for healing ... for needs being met. Jesus did it. He did it on the cross when He asked God to forgive others. As He was dying, He prayed for us.

This girl continues to amaze me. She has gone through and continues to go through more hard stuff than most people will ever experience in their lives. We are all ready for her to get real relief and move forward in her healing process.

Please continue to pray for complete healing from GVHD and that these viruses would be gone out of her body ... that her body would start to fight these viruses. We continue to pray, believe, and trust God for her total healing and guidance for the doctors. Thank you for praying with us!

If you would like to financially support Katie's (aka La Petite Belle) journey to healing, you can find more information here:  All funds go to cover medical bills and expenses.