From Crisis to Cure: A Baby’s Healing Against All Odds

We are a family from Kiryat Ekron, parents of four children. About seven years ago, our oldest daughter was born. When she was just four months old, she was diagnosed with a severe metabolic disease that put her life in danger. Only by a miracle and with Hashem’s mercy did she survive and recover.

Since then, we were blessed with two more healthy daughters. And then, six months ago, in Tishrei 5774, our first son Itamar was born.

When Itamar turned four months old, we noticed something wasn’t right, he was losing weight at an alarming rate. This raised serious concern. Blood tests confirmed our fears, and the doctor sent us immediately to Schneider Children’s Hospital. There, after many more tests, the head of the department told us our son had a rare disease. His condition was serious. He was suffering from a metabolic disorder that had already caused severe liver damage. He was admitted right away and began intensive treatment to stabilize his condition.

The very next day, I went to receive a blessing from Rabbi Yoram Abergel. The rabbi looked at me and said with confidence, “The child will be healthy. Don’t worry.” I also visited Rabbi Nissim Moyal, who told me, “I’ll pray for him. Everything will be fine. He will recover.”

With their blessings giving us strength, I returned to the hospital. Itamar still couldn’t eat, and even after trying a feeding tube, nothing helped. The doctors made the difficult decision to give him nutrition through an IV, which had to be done under general anesthesia. A few hours earlier, my brother-in-law told me he would try to arrange a meeting with Rabbi Aharon Leib Shteinman. What happened next felt like divine timing.

That same evening, within just 20 minutes, I found myself sitting in the home of both Rabbi Shteinman and Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky. They each gave blessings for Itamar’s full recovery. Rabbi Kanievsky asked me to take on two things: to wear long sleeves and to grow a beard. I agreed immediately.

On our way back from Bnei Brak to the hospital, the phone rang. The doctors were urgently trying to reach us. We arrived to find the senior staff waiting for us with serious expressions. “Your child’s condition is critical,” they said. “His liver is failing. We’re taking him into surgery again under full anesthesia to insert a central IV line.” From there, Itamar was moved to intensive care, fully sedated and connected to a ventilator.

That night, at 2 a.m., I stood beside his hospital bed. He was tiny, helpless, and attached to so many wires and tubes. It was then that the morning blessings we say each day came alive in my heart.

“Blessed are You, Hashem… who opens the eyes of the blind”, my son had been lying there for days, his eyes closed. “Blessed are You, Hashem… who releases the bound”, he was wrapped in tubes and cords, unable to move. “Blessed are You, Hashem… who straightens the bent”, he couldn’t lift his body or even be held, swollen from fluids and medications. “Blessed are You, Hashem… who clothes the naked”, he lay there in only a diaper because of all the machines. I suddenly understood the meaning behind every word I had rushed through each morning on my way to synagogue.

After a week of sedation, Itamar opened his eyes. The doctors were honest with us. His liver was still very damaged, and medications didn’t seem to be helping enough.

One day, the head of the department called us into his office. “You need to understand,” he said gently, “Itamar’s condition is extremely serious. We want you to consider a liver transplant. Tomorrow, someone from the transplant team will come speak with you.”

We looked at him and said, “Doctor, you are great doctors, and we know you’re doing everything you can. But we believe in Hashem. You’ll see we’re going to witness a miracle.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said.

The next day, the transplant coordinator came to speak with my wife. “We’d like to test you to see if you’re a suitable liver donor,” she said.

My wife, with a calm and steady voice, replied, “We believe Hashem will heal him without a transplant. We have blessings from great Torah sages.”

Inside, her heart was breaking. The stress and fear of a mother are impossible to describe. But her words came from a place of deep faith.

The doctor was taken aback. “I’m glad you’re strong,” she said. “It’s your choice. When you want to begin the process, let me know.”

As soon as she left the room, my wife went straight to Itamar’s bedside and began reading Tehillim (Psalms) with tears. When she reached the verse, “You have turned my mourning into dancing for me,” a deep sense of joy washed over her. A calm faith filled her, Hashem would turn our sorrow into joy.

The next day, I visited Rabbi Yoram Abergel again and told him how serious Itamar’s condition still was. The doctors were now urging us to consider a transplant. The rabbi didn’t hesitate: “The child will recover without surgery. He won’t need a transplant. Everything will be fine.”

Rabbi Nissim Moyal also reassured us: “Don’t worry. Hashem Himself will heal your son. No transplant, no surgery.”

Not long after that, I had a conversation with the hospital’s deputy director. I asked out of curiosity, “How does a liver transplant work? Isn’t there only one liver?”

“We take a lobe from a donor and transplant it into the baby,” she explained.

“And the baby lives with just a lobe?”

“No,” she said. “The lobe grows until it becomes a full liver.”

“And how does it grow? With medications?”

“No,” she said, smiling. “It grows on its own.”

“So, if Hashem can make a lobe grow, can’t He heal Itamar’s liver?”

She smiled again. “I hope you’re right.”

“I believe we’re going to see an open miracle,” I told her.

And then, it happened.

Suddenly, Itamar’s test results began to improve rapidly. Numbers that had been dangerously high dropped to near normal in just days. The jaundice level fell from 24 to 9. His liver function began returning in a way the doctors simply couldn’t explain.

After three weeks in intensive care, we were moved back to the regular ward. After just five more days, Itamar was discharged. His liver was almost completely healed.

The doctor who had treated him in intensive care cried when she saw him smiling. She couldn’t believe this was the same child who had been so close to death. The head of the ICU said simply, “I’m happy. Truly happy. There’s no doubt we’ve seen a miracle. This child is a medical miracle.”