Many of you know my beautiful daughter BK. She is light, laughter, mischief, and magic wrapped into one tiny, vibrant soul. If you’ve met her, you know her. You know the way her cheeky smile lights up a room, the way her laughter is contagious, and above all, how fierce and strong she truly is.

BK was born a warrior. She came into this world with Down syndrome and a congenital heart defect called AVSD. At just four months old, she had her first open-heart surgery. Two months later, that repair failed, and at only 6 ½ months, she almost lost her life. But BK fought hard. And I fought right alongside her, every single moment. By the grace of God, she survived.

In August, we faced another major hurdle, her second open-heart surgery. I moved us to Texas so she could get the best care possible. The surgery went well, and within a week, she was back home. At her follow-up, her team was thrilled, she was doing amazing and even able to come off multiple medications. But five weeks later, everything changed again.

BK developed a petechiae rash we had seen before when her heart was under stress. I rushed her back to Texas Children’s Hospital. At first, things looked okay. Her vitals were normal, x-rays/scans looked good. But after extensive bloodwork and hours of waiting, on October 3rd, alone in the ER, I heard the words that shattered me:

"We’re suspecting leukemia."

Just hours later, it was confirmed: B-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.

My beautiful, brave girl, who has already endured so much, is now facing a new and terrifying battle. We are currently 15 days into what will be a 37-day hospital stay. She has already undergone six rounds of chemotherapy, three platelet transfusions, three blood transfusions, and two lumbar punctures. She had surgery to place a port in her chest and will continue with regular LP procedures to monitor her bone marrow and administer one of her three chemo’s directly into her spine. BK is just three years old.

The medications, especially the chemo and daily steroids, have transformed my bubbly, silly girl into someone I barely recognize. She’s in constant pain, overwhelmed with frustration and discomfort, often unable to be touched or comforted. As her mom, it’s the most heartbreaking thing in the world to watch your child suffer and feel helpless to take it away.

We thought we were finally in the clear, finally able to let her just be a normal three year old. But now, we face a new mountain, and while I trust her incredible medical team at Texas Children’s, and hold fast to my faith, it’s still a devastating battle.

As a single mom, I do everything in my power to give her the very best life and care. But right now, I need help.

The financial strain of long hospital stays, weekly infusions upon discharge and traveling over an hour back and forth to do so, and the mounting medical bills (even after insurance) are becoming too much. I want to be by her side for every infusion, every poke, every procedure, but the cost of doing so is overwhelming.

And so, I’m asking for help.
 I’m setting aside my pride to ask my community, my friends, and even strangers, if you have it in your heart to help support us in this season.

Any donation, no matter how small, makes a huge difference.
A share of this story means just as much.
But most of all, we ask for your prayers.

Please pray for BK. Pray for her healing. Pray for her comfort. Pray that she feels the love that surrounds her every single moment. And pray for every other child and family facing this same fight.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading our story and for standing with us in this storm. Your love, support, and kindness mean more than words can say.

With love,
Cece & BK