I want to tell you about my daughter and about the fight that has taken over our lives. She is only two years old and she has brain cancer. We have been fighting for months and we are both so unbelievably tired. I never imagined that this would be our story. I never imagined that I would ever write something like this.

Back in September everything was normal. My oldest was a happy bright and playful sixteen month old. One day we got a call from the babysitter saying both our girls were sick. No panic just the normal worry of parenting. A week later the babysitter called again. This time our oldest had a drooping eye. We took her to her pediatrician who said it was just another virus going around and referred us to an optometrist. They diagnosed Third Nerve Palsy and told us to patch her good eye. We followed everything they said.

Two days later my husband called me in a panic. Our daughter had woken up from a nap gasping for air. At the hospital they listed every infection under the sun. Viral infection pneumonia croup HFM. Anything they could name. She could not keep food down. She threw up everything. She became so exhausted we could barely keep her awake. Her oxygen would not go above eighty without help. She spent seven days in the hospital before they sent her home saying she was stable enough.

The day we got home I set her down so I could make a bottle for our youngest. I turned around when I heard a thud and screaming. She had fallen and she could not stand. I called again and again telling them she was not walking. I called almost every day. No one listened.

On October tenth her pediatrician ran every test they said they needed to run. They found nothing. Nothing. I grabbed her and drove forty five minutes to the nearest childrens hospital shaking with fear the entire way. It was the same hospital where my father died and that fear sat heavy on my chest the entire drive.

The doctors there looked confused by what had been done in our hometown. They asked again and again what tests had been run. They ordered an MRI. They said it would take a couple of hours and told us to relax. An hour later they called us back.

Three tumors. Two in her brain and one on her spine. Hearing those words felt like falling through the floor. They did a biopsy and told us it was cancer. Medulloblastoma at first, though later it was discovered to be worse. My baby, two years old, with brain cancer.

They placed a shunt because one tumor was almost completely blocking fluid in her brain. We had the option of three hospitals each far from home. Only one cancer team agreed to speak with us. They spent three hours explaining treatment options the risks and the terrifying possibility that she might not survive treatment. That honesty made our decision for us. We had to choose them.

We spent twenty one days in the hospital before being transferred to her new hospital. We arrived at one in the morning on Halloween. From the very first moment the staff tried to comfort us and make us feel safe. My husband and I spent the first month beside her bed while our youngest stayed with a family friend. That month she got her first round of chemo. She threw up constantly. She needed a feeding tube. She had no energy. But she fought. She pushed through every moment of it.

When my husband had to return to work I stayed with our daughter around the clock. I changed her diapers. I talked to her. I read to her. Slowly she started to move again. She could sit up with support. Her muscles grew a little stronger. After chemo she was sent to the rehab floor where she flourished. She smiled again. She worked so hard in therapy. Speech occupational physical. She tried with every ounce of strength she had.

Round two went smoother. We were planning to go home for Christmas but her shunt became infected with MRSA meningitis. She was intubated and so deeply sedated that I could not touch her without causing her pain. Those ten days were the darkest of my life. And then one morning she just woke up. Calm alert herself again. I cannot explain it but I am grateful beyond words.

They did an MRI. The tumors had shrunk by about half. A week later they collected stem cells for her bone marrow transplant. 

She turned two on November nineteenth. The hospital made an exception and allowed a few family members to visit. Seeing her smile with her little birthday hat on is something I will never forget.

Then bone marrow transplant began. I quit my job to be her full time caregiver. I had not seen my youngest daughter since October except on screens. I felt like I was failing one child while fighting for the life of the other.

But our oldest became the heart of the entire floor. Nurses, doctors, techs, therapists, everyone adored her. Her laughter, her little finger wag telling them "No No No", even her naps brought joy to people who see pain every day.

And now there is me. I have spent almost every second with my daughter since this began. The emotional and financial toll is unreal. I lost myself again and again. The nurses care so much for me almost as much as they care for her. They encouraged me to eat, to sleep, to breathe. I am on blood pressure medicine and depression medicine, and I have lost weight from stress and medication. I am tired in a way that feels permanent but I keep going because she keeps going.

My husband carries the weight of the genetic mutation that caused all of this. He and our youngest must be monitored for the rest of their lives. The future is still uncertain. But we have hope, real hope.

If you are still reading thank you. Truly thank you for caring enough to learn about my daughter and about our fight. We need help to continue caring for her. The medical costs, the travel, the long term monitoring, the therapies, everything keeps adding up. We need to raise $6500 to keep her care stable, and to keep our family afloat.

Please help us if you can. Every contribution no matter the amount means more than you will ever know. You are helping us give our little girl the future she fights so fiercely for. You are helping us take her home.