07/22/2026
Before Brynlee was diagnosed, I had no idea this world even existed.
I didn’t know the language of lab results, specialists, medications, or hospital stays. I didn’t know what it meant to hold your breath while waiting for test results or to celebrate numbers on a screen like they were birthdays.
Then everything changed.
Nothing prepares you for hearing your child’s name called back instead of yours. Nothing prepares you for watching your baby become the patient.
Somewhere between appointments, sleepless nights, endless questions, and learning how to advocate for a medically complex child, I became someone I never expected to be.
Some days I miss the version of me who didn’t know this life.
But then I look at Brynlee.
She has taught me what strength really looks like. She has shown me that courage doesn’t always roar—sometimes it looks like a little girl facing another needle, another test, another hard day with a smile that still lights up the room.
I never would have chosen this road.
But I’d walk it a thousand times over if it meant Brynlee gets to keep growing, laughing, and becoming exactly who she’s meant to be.
Every hard day is worth it for her. 🤍