A stranger donates part of her liver, giving the gift of life to infant

DURHAM, N.C. -- Sarah Ames lives by the philosophy that if you have the ability to help someone, you have the responsibility to try.

So this spring, when she was moved by a story about a mother's plea for a liver donor for an infant son, Ames had no qualms about quickly taking a survey to see if she might be a match.

She received a callback the next day.

Two days later she was at Duke University Medical Center for more testing.

And two weeks later she was on an operating table at Duke Children's Hospital, undergoing her first major surgery so she could give 25 percent of her liver to a stranger.

It was a gift of life for Elijah Tsawo, a 17-month-old boy who brought together two mothers who say the child's misfortune led to their good fortune of meeting each other for a friendship they hope will last a lifetime.

"I tell her, she tells me, there are no words any more for what this means," a grateful Gwendolyn Tsawo said earlier this month at a monthly checkup for Elijah.

A MOTHER'S WILL

Elijah is a toddler who likes to do fist bumps with his siblings, explore play sets in the pediatric waiting room, watch people with his expressive dark eyes and cuddle with his mom when doctors, phlebotomists and other health care workers take his temperature, draw blood and check his vitals.

At first glance, Elijah is similar to many boys his age -- happy one moment, upset the next. In search of hugs, then pushing away for distance and independence.

But under his blue and white long-sleeved T-shirt, a scar across his midsection is a reminder of what Elijah has been through in his short life.

Elijah was born June 25, 2014, in Hawaii, while his father, a Marine, was based there.

Gwendolyn Tsawo knew almost immediately there was something wrong with the youngest of her seven children. His coloring was off, yellower than it should be. He was not gaining weight and was often irritable.

She went from doctor to doctor, and hospital to hospital until she got answers.

During that time, the Tsawos moved from Hawaii to Jacksonville, the home of Camp Lejeune.

Elijah eventually was diagnosed with biliary atresia, a rare disease of the liver and bile ducts that occurs in infants. Bile flow to the gallbladder is blocked by the disease, causing scarring of the liver cells, or cirrhosis, and eventually liver failure.

Though a Greenville doctor had been able to do a surgical procedure that created an alternate path for draining bile from the liver, the prognosis was not good. Elijah needed a transplant.

That led mother and son to Duke, where the boy's name was added to the list of people awaiting liver donors. Elijah's mom heard someone say that it could take longer than she was willing to wait to find a donor match on the transplant list. So she began a hunt of her own.

She and her six other children -- who range in age from 23 to Elijah's 17 months -- made T-shirts, created fliers and posted them on car windows and in other places throughout Jacksonville.

Tsawo went to TV stations and media outlets, mounting a campaign that amazed Duke Hospital officials with 200-plus responses.

'TRULY A HERO'

Sarah Ames had worked as an acute care speech pathologist. She was familiar with the risks and rewards that modern medicine offers. She also describes herself as a Christian, driven by a strong faith. Her husband, Jordan, a Marine, has similar beliefs and values.

The two have adopted six children ­-- three boys and three girls who range in age from 15 to 6 -- after finding out Sarah could not give birth to children.

They have a busy household. Jordan Ames is often on missions with the Marines. The children are all soccer players and have games at different times.

Nonetheless, Ames read about Elijah's need for a liver donation and could not imagine not helping Gwendolyn -- a mother so desperate to find a liver donor with O-positive blood who could save her baby's life.

"It was kind of our way to give life to a child who might not otherwise make it," Ames said.

In the initial survey, Ames revealed that she was 5-feet-9 and 120 pounds -- a small-framed woman who had no history of drug or alcohol use, who ate organic foods and who ran several miles most every day. Though some of the other 200 callers had similar blood types and otherwise might have matched, it was the size of Ames' liver that made her a desirable candidate.

Her good friend, Nicole Fisher, a speech pathologist from Pennsylvania, also agreed to come down and stay at the hospital while surgeons removed a fourth of Ames' liver and transplanted it into baby Elijah's small body.

"She's truly a hero," said Dr. Debra Sudan, the transplant surgeon at Duke. "Honestly, she saved this baby's life."

'REALLY WELL'

Ames, reluctant to be in the spotlight, endears herself to others with her optimism, enthusiasm and humility.

"I don't want any of this to be about me," Ames said earlier this month. "All the doctors, the others, they are the ones who did something. All I did was lie down and take a nine-hour nap."

There are risks associated with the surgery, Sudan said, but for the most part they are low.

The liver is an organ that has the capacity to regenerate, and it can do so quickly in a living donor, as well as in the transplant recipient. In the world of transplants, livers are among the least rejected organs, Sudan said.

Ames' liver should grow with Elijah, and doctors are optimistic about his future.

"Overall, he's doing really well," said Dr. Megan Butler, a pediatric gastroenterologist who saw Elijah at Duke on Dec. 15 and marveled at the steep spike in his weight and height on his growth chart.

Elijah will be on medicine for the rest of his life. He will have limitations because of his weakened immune system, but he has at least two strong women who plan to be there with him every step of the way.

This story was originally published January 23, 2016 at 3:49 PM with the headline "A stranger donates part of her liver, giving the gift of life to infant ."