SG. Six weeks ago, I shared how Jackson woke from a nap and suddenly stopped breathing.

Six weeks ago, an ordinary afternoon turned into every parent’s worst nightmare.

Jackson had been napping peacefully when he suddenly stopped breathing. There was no warning. No time to prepare. One moment, he was asleep. The next, his tiny body was in crisis.

His mother sprang into action, performing four rounds of CPR after he went into a full-body seizure. Four times she fought to bring her baby back. Four times she refused to give up.

That was the moment everything changed for this Texas family.

In the days and weeks that followed, they searched desperately for answers. Tests were run. Specialists were consulted. Every phone call brought both hope and fear. They knew something serious had happened — but nothing could have prepared them for the diagnosis that finally came.

Jackson has been diagnosed with a rare mutation of the WT-1 gene. Since it was first identified in 1967, fewer than 400 cases have been documented worldwide. The mutation is devastating in its progression. It carries a 90% risk of kidney cancer. It leads to complete kidney failure in early childhood. And ultimately, the only chance for survival is a kidney transplant.

For a brief moment, though, they were given a gift.

One glorious month at home.

One month of “normal.”

They soaked in every ordinary moment — quiet mornings, familiar routines, the comfort of being together under their own roof. After the trauma of that terrifying seizure, it felt like a fragile reprieve.

Then the swelling began.

At first, it was subtle. Then it became impossible to ignore. Fluid started building up in his tiny body. His eyes became so puffy he could barely open them. His little belly grew tight and distended. Clothes that had fit just weeks earlier no longer buttoned or snapped.

His body was telling them what no parent ever wants to hear.

Jackson has now entered end-stage renal failure.

He is back in Fort Worth, where he will remain for the foreseeable future. Hospital rooms have replaced home comforts. Monitors and machines now hum constantly in the background. Every day revolves around labs, medications, and careful observation.

Yesterday marked another difficult milestone. Surgeons placed a hemodialysis line, a peritoneal dialysis line, and a feeding tube — all necessary steps to sustain his fragile body while they plan for what comes next.

The procedures were long. Stabilizing him afterward took time. He required oxygen support. He remains under constant monitoring, with doctors and nurses watching closely for any sign of infection — a serious threat for children in his condition.

And yet, even in the middle of this storm, there was a glimmer of hope.

After just one hour of dialysis, Jackson’s lab numbers began to improve. The excess fluid started to come off. The swelling decreased. His small body, though weary, responded to the treatment.

It was a reminder that he is still fighting.

In the coming weeks, a team of geneticists and oncologists will monitor him closely for any signs of kidney cancer, given the high risk associated with his mutation. At the same time, the process of placing him on the transplant list will begin. Evaluations, testing, paperwork — all steps toward the ultimate goal of finding him a new kidney and a new chance at life.

Six weeks ago, the prayers were simple and urgent: Please let him survive this seizure.

Today, the prayers have changed.

Now, they are praying for a transplant. For protection from cancer. For strength during dialysis. For healing in whatever form it may come.

Jackson’s journey has already been filled with more fear and uncertainty than most families face in a lifetime. And yet, his parents continue to show up — advocating, comforting, learning medical terms they never wanted to know, and loving their son fiercely through every needle stick and procedure.

They have asked that we keep Jax on our prayer list.

So tonight, whether you pray, send good thoughts, or simply pause for a moment of hope, remember this little boy in Fort Worth. Remember his brave mother who performed CPR four times without hesitation. Remember the family walking this road one breath, one lab result, one day at a time.

If you could offer them one piece of encouragement — one sentence to help steady their hearts — what would you say?