Margarett had her surgery just a few days ago. What was supposed to be a relatively quick procedure—a 2½ hour surgery to remove the nodules that had shown up on a recent CT scan—turned into a grueling six-hour ordeal. The anticipation had been high, the family clinging to hope, but as the hours stretched, so did their anxiety.

Her momma shared the raw, honest emotions of that day: “Hearts are extremely heavy today as we embark on yet another ride…” she wrote. The surgeons had successfully removed the five nodules seen in the CT scan, but that was not all. Three additional nodules were found—ones that hadn’t appeared on any scans. While removing eight nodules in total might sound like a victory, the news was heavy with a different weight. Those three nodules had grown rapidly, reaching the size of the others in just a short span of time. The family was suddenly confronted with the uncomfortable truth: there are underlying cancer cells still at work, cells that could grow, spread, and disrupt their lives in ways no scan could yet reveal.

The uncertainty was almost unbearable. Her momma wrote, “As much as we want to be positive and look at this surgery as a success, it’s hard to as a parent in our position. It’s the unknown, the uncertainty, the fact that we don’t know what to do to stop these from continuing to spread.” Sitting in the waiting room after surgery, she witnessed moments that highlighted both hope and heartache. A nearby couple received news that their child’s surgery was routine, that the problem was removed, and they could go home. In that instant, she admitted, she wanted to curl into a ball, silently pleading for the same news. But it was also in that very moment that a fellow parent, experiencing a similar journey, reached out and gave her a hug, whispering: “We will be okay…” A small gesture, yet it carried the weight of reassurance and shared understanding.

For now, Margarett is resting. Recovery is the priority this week, and every small movement, every quiet breath is a step forward. A month from now, she will undergo another CT scan—a new measure of what they are dealing with and what might be the next best step for her. Until then, the family rests in fragile hope, praying for clarity, for guidance, for a sense of peace amid the storm. Her momma’s words echoed this plea: “God, I beg for clarity. I beg for your presence to submerge our hearts in your faithfulness in this darkness. We thank you for our faithful prayer warriors and their support. In Jesus name… Amen.”

Through every step, Margarett is not alone. Thousands hold her in their hearts, sending love, comfort, and hope. They fight with her, sending strength through every prayer, every thought, every gesture of support. This is a journey that tests endurance, faith, and courage—but in every moment, Margarett is seen, cherished, and loved.

The family’s courage and Margarett’s resilience are a reminder of the power of hope, community, and unwavering love. Even in the shadow of uncertainty, they continue to fight. “We FIGHT with you, Margarett! You got this! We see you too, Momma.” And in those words, there is strength, there is love, and above all, there is the promise that no one faces this alone.