Pray for Emory Grace Harris

Emory Grace Harris was rushed to Primary Children's hospital with a tumor in her brain 1.5 inches big. She has gone through two brain surgeries to get the tumor out. She now is clean from the tumor in her head and the family is waiting 2-3 weeks on if the tumor is cancerous or not. With all the expenses they are undergoing this gofundme is set up to help them. They would love any help that they can get with this nightmare they are in.
Emory does not have the best insurance at this time and would love your help. 
Thank you to all those who are helping! 
Updates will be placed on here as we wait. 
"I cried when Harlee and I found you covered in puke, barely able to move half your body.
I cried watching Mark carry you into the ER because only one parent was allowed in with you.
I cried waiting for updates and the fear of the unknown.
I cried when you had a seizure and things got worse.
I cried when Harlee took a penny from the water fountain and through it back in to make a wish you’d get better.
I cried when I finally called my mom to let her know what had happened.
I cried when Mark said they would let Harlee and I come in for a minute. I knew that meant bad news.
I cried when Mark told me you had a brain tumor.
I cried when they said it was causing all the other issues.
I cried when I saw you sleeping peacefully while we waited for the ambulance to transfer you to Primary Children’s Hospital. I knew that your peaceful slumber was about to become a long road of pain.
I cried when they explained the COVID-19 restrictions that would make our stay even more difficult.
I cried when I realized you were starting to hate every person that walked in the room because they usually brought a painful agenda with them.
I cried when it was Dad’s turn to come in and I couldn’t be with you.
I cried when I realized that messy hair I hated combing all the time was about to be shaved off.
I cried when I realized they would be opening your head and digging into your brain and that wasn’t even the scariest part of all this. The tumor was.
I cried alone in the waiting room after the surgeon told me the MRI showed they didn’t get it all out and you’d be going immediately back into surgery.
I cried when he told me the second surgery was successful and the tumor was gone, but I couldn’t be there as you woke up.
I didn’t have time to cry while I held you in post op care because you couldn’t stop crying from the pain and the fear of constantly being poked and prodded at.
I cried when you finally lost trust in me and I had become one of the bad guys, constantly fixing cords and giving medicine or holding you down.
I cried in the car on the drive home because I wished so bad that the hardest part was over, but I knew this might only be the beginning of a lot of pain and suffering.
I cried that night because you still wouldn’t let me hold or touch you.
I cried, wishing so bad I could carry this burden for you.
I have cried, and cried. I think I have cried more tears in the past week than I have in my whole life combined. I have never been so sad. But somehow, through it all, there was so much peace.
I felt a glimpse of peace moments after I found you as I dropped to me knees and prayed, knowing our lives were about to change.
I felt peace as I watched Mark carry you into the ER because I knew there was no one in the world, not even me, who could comfort you more than him.
I felt peace as Harlee and I immediately prayed for you again.
I felt peace when Mark told me you had started to get the function of your right side back.
I felt peace while playing with Harlee on the grass while she constantly wiped away my tears.
I felt peace knowing that the doctor was also a priesthood holder and helped give you a blessing.
I felt peace as one of the nurses gave us her personal number and expressed that she had experienced a situation similar to ours as she offered a shoulder of comfort along this whole journey.
I felt peace as we rolled into Primary Children’s because I knew there was no better place you could be right now.
Amidst all that chaos, I had another moment of strong peace as I felt this ordeal would not stop you from having a life full of joy.
I felt peace as the medical staff knew each step to take and immediately had a plan.
I felt peace when you waved and smiled at the empty chair because I knew you were far from alone through all this.
I felt peace when Mark gave me a blessing and reminded me that I was far from alone through all this.
I felt peace knowing Mark would be there for you when you woke up from the MRI.
I felt peace when I learned someone I love had already been through a successful brain surgery with the Doctor performing your surgery.
I felt peace as I never once stressed about food, gas, a hotel, change of clothes, or entertainment for Harlee because everyone in our lives have been so generous.
I felt peace while being surrounded by family as they began your surgery.
I felt peace alone in the waiting room as I sought strength from my Father in Heaven. I knew He was allowing this terrible burden to be placed on you, but I also knew He wasn’t the one who put it there and it was Him who could change this tragic event into a miracle.
I felt peace as I held you after surgery because even though your swollen face was drenched in tears, I knew what a blessing it was that you were well enough to cry, and scream and fight everyone around you.
I felt peace the next day as Mark came in for the parent swap. After the worst night of both our lives, I understood why you now resented me, and I was happy to see there was still one person you could trust.
I felt peace when we got home and you laughed and played with Harlee, as if our lives were almost normal again.
I felt peace knowing that even if this was just the beginning of your pain, right now you were happy again.
This whole experience is a nightmare. But somehow, the tender mercies of our Father in Heaven have not ceased. The symptoms leading to diagnosis, the timing, the medical teams and the love and support of so many people are miracles all on their own. There is no doubt that God has touched your life through the blessing of modern medicine, the love of those around you and the faith and prayers of even those who have never met you. I don’t know what your future holds, but for right now, we will love you, hold you, play with you, cry with you and enjoy every minute of your perfect and tumor free little body. We love you more than you will ever be able to comprehend, Emory Grace Harris."
-Ashley Shock Harris
 
We love you Mark, Ashley (baby girl in Ashley) , Harlee and Emory!