Fate stepped in for this little girl
When little Erika Vidaic started school, a teacher pulled her mum Rosa aside.
The teacher mentioned that Erika, five, had been showing classmates the huge surgical scar that spread across her stomach. Erika ‘was telling them it meant she was special’, Rosa tells New Idea.
There’s no doubting that. The confident little girl, with a smile that lights up a room, is alive thanks to the skill of transplant surgeons – and the generosity of a stranger.
When Erika was born in June 2012, she appeared perfectly healthy. But, weeks later, Rosa and her husband Adrian, from Picnic Point, near Sydney, noticed their newborn baby’s stools were pasty.
‘I already had a little boy, Oliver, who was then 20 months, so I knew something was wrong,’ Rosa says.
Then the whites of Erika’s eyes developed a yellow tinge.
A doctor took blood samples, then called with alarming news.
‘He said Erika’s blood levels were dangerous, and we had to get her to Randwick Hospital where doctors were waiting,’ Rosa shudders.
The three-month-old had a condition called biliary atresia, a disorder that blocks the ducts draining bile from the liver. ‘The toxins were poisoning Erika’s liver,’ Rosa explains. ‘Ultimately, the organ would fail.’
Doctors tried a bypass operation, called a Kasai procedure, to save Erika’s liver. It didn’t work. ‘They said Erika needed a transplant and without one she wouldn’t survive,’ Rosa recalls.
‘It was devastating. Adrian’s a physio. He understood the medical terminology better than me. To see him cry was horrible.’
Erika was transferred to Westmead Children’s Hospital and put on the waiting list for an organ, but the family had no idea if they’d be waiting days or years for a suitable transplant.
It was a race against time as the toxins in Erika’s liver were fast taking a toll.
‘Her tummy became horribly distended, which affected her breathing and caused her pain,’ Rosa recalls. ‘We couldn’t even pick her up for a cuddle, and the whites of her eyes and skin turned yellow.’
But the brave little girl kept smiling. Because Erika was so small, she needed only a portion of an adult donor liver.
And, because the liver can regenerate, live donation was possible. Adrian, 43, and Rosa, 39, were tested to see if they were compatible.
‘Adrian wasn’t, but, even though my blood type was different, I was,’ says Rosa.
‘I told Erika’s team: “Take it now.” I just wanted my baby to live. They wanted to wait, though, until she was a bit bigger and stronger, and to see if they could get a better match.’ It was a delicate, high-stakes waiting game.
Then, Erika took a turn for the worse. ‘After five weeks on the transplant list, she stopped smiling,’ says Rosa. ‘That’s when I knew it was really bad. She was transferred to intensive care and I thought we were going to lose her. I begged the doctors to take my liver.’
But just hours later, fate intervened. Transplant surgeon Dr Albert Shun told Rosa a donor liver from someone who had died had become available.
‘I burst into tears of relief, but it was heartbreaking to know another mother was grieving,’ Rosa admits.
Dr Shun and his team worked late into the night to transplant the healthy organ. The following morning Rosa was allowed into the ICU to see her daughter.
‘There were tubes everywhere and she was wearing a little beanie to keep her warm,’ she says. ‘But for the first time in weeks, her skin was peachy pink and when her eyes opened the yellow had gone. She was just hours out of surgery, but she looked like a different little girl.’
Rosa knew Erika was really on the mend when, a few days later, she beamed.
As Erika got better, Rosa’s thoughts increasingly turned to the stranger who had saved her daughter’s life. All she’d been told was he was a young adult.
‘The donation of his liver was the ultimate gift,’ Rosa says. ‘Six other families were helped with donations too.
‘No words could express
my gratitude, but I wanted to let the donor’s family know how thankful we were and what happiness they’d brought us. At the same time, I wanted to be respectful of their grief.’
So Rosa wrote a letter to the donor’s family. Strict rules exist to protect the donor’s and their family’s identities, but letters can be exchanged through a social worker.
‘I wrote saying how thankful I was,’ says Rosa. ‘I didn’t know if they would reply, but when they did I burst into tears. They told me a little about the donor, including that he was the life of the party.’
The donor gave Erika the gift of life and she has since thrived.
‘Each November, on the anniversary of the transplant, we cut a cake and light a candle to remember her donor,’ says Rosa. ‘We then take time to think about him and his family.
‘I look at my little girl, singing, dancing, squabbling with her big brother, and I’m so grateful.
‘Persuading others to become donors is my way of giving thanks to the strangers who saved Erika’s life. Without the donor and his family, who allowed his donation to go ahead, my little girl wouldn’t be here.’