Well, the time has come to give a little life update to everyone. Most of the people closest to me already know, but I know a few on here like to follow along.

As many of you know, I was diagnosed with Marfan syndrome at age 3. It’s a connective tissue disorder that impacts the heart and eyes. Fast forward to 2019—I went for a routine cardiologist appointment, where they discovered my aorta was dilated to the point that surgery was necessary. We discussed the do’s and don’ts before surgery, and one of the don’ts was do not get pregnant. Having PCOS, I said, “No problem.”

Fast forward a week—I woke up feeling off, so I took a pregnancy test. To my surprise, it came back positive. In that moment, I didn’t know whether to be excited or scared, but I knew what I needed to do. I made an appointment with my OB and found out I was 6.5 weeks pregnant—which meant that at the moment they told me not to get pregnant, I already was.

I immediately called my cardiologist with the news, and she told me I would have to abort the pregnancy because I wouldn’t survive. I thought long and hard about what to do. I prayed and cried, because being a mother had always been my biggest dream. It was a battle, but I decided abortion was not the answer. I believed God had a plan for me and my baby. Little did I know, that plan was far bigger than I could have imagined.

Fast forward to February 2020. I was headed to a routine non-stress test in Nashville when, just 3 miles from my exit, pain hit me like a Mac truck. I knew what had happened and that I needed to make it to the hospital. By the grace of God, I made it. They rushed me into an emergency C-section. During surgery, my aorta tore in two places. They patched what they could so I would live to see another day. Once again, it had to have been part of God’s plan.

Later, in November 2020, I was so wrapped up in being the best mom I could be that I forgot to take some very important medications, which led to a massive heart attack. Thankfully, they were able to fix it.

Fast forward to 2022. I had been struggling silently with the loss of Everett for almost a year. Silent depression is very real—everyone thought I was fine because I looked and acted fine, but inside, I was broken. The important medications didn’t seem so important anymore, and I stopped taking them in hopes that maybe I’d get to see my child again. That decision caused me to have a stroke. At this point, I had endured an open-heart surgery, a heart attack, and a stroke—all within two years. Still, it was part of the story God had written for me. They decided to perform another open-heart surgery to replace the mechanical valve placed in 2020 with a tissue valve.

Fast forward to May 2025. My life had changed so much. I was in a better headspace and had amazing new people in my life. But I had been struggling with shortness of breath for months. I put it off until I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t breathe. I finally drove myself to the ER at Vanderbilt, which turned into a week-long stay. On my last day, the doctors delivered hard news: my heart was very weak—so weak that I couldn’t tolerate the medication I needed to live a normal life. They told me my options: a transplant, or 6–12 months to live (with most not making it the full 12).

At that point, no decision was made, because honestly, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. They explained that I would need to follow all the guidelines for six months to prove I was truly committed if I chose transplant.

By July 2025, I had decided to follow the guidelines. If I got a new heart, I did. If I didn’t, that was okay too. I had fully given it to God and knew it was all in His hands.

Fast forward to yesterday—I had my first appointment with the transplant team, and they told me we are moving forward. I will likely have a new heart by the end of the year.

I know this is all the work of God, and I give all the praise and glory to Him. My story isn’t over just yet—He still has big plans for me.