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| Eli and Grandpa Mike |
Subsequent surgeries saw him fitted with a pacemaker, saw him go to checkups in Seattle with stellar results, but then a slight glitch. More surgery to help his heart power the million watt smile that only seldom has dimmed despite the ordeals. Always though, more hurdles lie ahead.
His chest now holds two pacemakers.
Allen and Jenn both hope for a break in his trips to the hospital, hope for a break in the pokes and prods so Eli might get a chance to know the joys of being a young boy, but both know his ordeal is far from over.
They look at their amazing young son often, neither quite knowing from whom their son got his indomitable spirit, the sunny disposition that shines without waver. Allen suspects Eli's steadfast courage was bestowed by Jenn,
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While Eli rests as he slowly regains his strength yet again from the challenges few will ever face in all their years, but which to Eli, just six, have become commonplace, Allen and Jenn and countless other family and friends cling tightly to every good prognoses, every encouraging sign.
"According to his surgeon, surgery went really well," Jenn posted to the Prayers and Love for Eli - Wish and Heart Surgery Updates Facebook page she uses to chronicle the arduous journey her son is on. "There was a point where there was some excess bleeding, so his doctor slowed down the closure process and made sure it was not continuing before completely closing. It is something they are watching for tonight. It took quite a while in recovery to get him comfortable and into a room, but he is settled in now and really anxious to eat and drink."
Only a few days ago, on January 13, an introspective post as the uncertainty of yet another major hurdle loomed.
"My baby bear, today I watched you while you napped," she wrote. "I took a quick picture, as I usually do before your surgeries ... before you get your new scar.
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"As time goes on and the freshness of urgent medical need wears off and I see a shift in how people respond. I also see a shift in you and your responses to it all. As the world becomes numb or unresponsive to your repeat trauma, you become more sensitive. Your worries have increased. Your mounting fear is now very apparent. You have asked me every morning for the past three weeks, 'How many more days before my surgery, mama?'
"Tonight you crawled into my lap at the dinner table, curled up and cried. I wish I could tell you, in a way you'd understand, that I admire you and your strength and that your courage is beyond what should be expected of someone your age. God crafted your bright little soul and lovingly gave you to us. I am thankful for our road, though it kills me to see you so broken."
And today, in the wake of another major surgery gone well, the astonished and overwhelming gratitude that washes over for all those who do their utmost to try, each in their own ways, to lift, even if only for a mere moment's breath, a wee bit of the burden that should be no parent's to have to bear.
"You all astound me with the love and prayers you showered us with today - please know you have our sincerest thanks," Jenn wrote in a quiet moment as Eli slept. "Being in our position, having a son who is so often in need of prayers and kind words ... let me tell you, it still isn't something that I'm used to. Your words and prayers often leave me in tears and always such a great appreciation for the kindness and love of not only our friends and family, but also strangers. Like I've said before, thank you isn't enough, but other than tears and thankfulness you can't see from behind a screen, it is often all I have. ❤ Thank you."