Aspen was born in April of 2024, a bubbly, bright eyed little lady. When she was 20 days old, I took her to a pediatrician appointment where I shared my concerns about her appearing jaundiced and having pale stools. By that evening my tiny baby had every test under the sun ordered and I had met so many different doctors I couldn’t keep my head straight. We were admitted and booked into the operating room and taught about biliary atresia, alagille syndrome, and cirrhosis. 

After twenty-four days at BC Children’s Hospital, we went home with a list of follow-up appointments and medication, but Aspen without a gallbladder or a diagnosis. All we knew is our baby had some kind of liver disease 

A month later the genetics tests came back inconclusive, but her liver was not working, so our team decided we would “treat her like an Aspen.” This always comforted me in a way because no matter what happened she would still be her. 

After a few months of repeated admissions for ascites’ flare-ups, our GI doctor decided it was time to connect us with the Stollery Children’s Hospital for liver transplant assessment. We went in for our scheduled appointment on Halloween where a doctor broke the news to us that it was no longer a question of “if” but “when” Aspen would need a transplant. The next day we ended up back in ER at the BC Children’s Hospital, and the team made the decision to transport Aspen from there to the Stollery within the week.

From that point on it was just a cycle of hospital admissions, transfusions, IR trips followed by frozen yogurt and pudding, discharges, and appointment juggling; until finally 2 weeks after her first birthday, she was listed for transplant. It felt like such a huge relief but at the same time made the entire situation much too real for my mind to comprehend. My sweet girl was just like any other kid, she was energetic, sassy, and happy. How could she need this huge surgery? 

When she was seventeen months old, we flew back out to Edmonton for follow up imaging for Aspen and living donor testing for myself. I was in the cardiac clinic waiting for my appointment and Aspen and her dad were just leaving diagnostic imaging recovery when we got the call. There was an offer of a cadaveric liver, and we could be admitted that night. 

Surgery took 8 hours. It felt like years until she was finally in the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU). Still as strong as ever she came out extubated, sedated and most importantly, with a new liver. We spent a total of twenty days in the PICU and another thirty-eight days on the wards before going home, our longest consecutive admission yet.

Aspen, always the social butterfly, made sure to make friends who have very similar stories. Her Treasure Beads help her share her story with her friends and understand their journeys better.

Her bead chain is currently twenty-five feet long and growing. 

Thus far she is thriving post-transplant and excited to once again cause as much chaos as “Aspenly” possible at home. Although this chapter is over, her health journey continues. She looks forward to life with her new liver, and all the new beads she’ll collect alongside this amazing gift.

Submitted by Cadyn Henrickson