Every Breath My Daughter Takes Is a Miracle.

Three months ago, I became a mommy to the most beautiful little girl I’d ever seen.

Isabelle Mae Martin came into this world early, weighing only 4 pounds, 13 ounces, but she was perfect. With her deep blue eyes, tiny button nose, chubby cheeks, and precious little dimpled chin, she instantly became the center of my universe. After spending two weeks in the hospital simply because she was premature, we were finally told the words every parent dreams of hearing:

“You can take your baby home.”

For eight beautiful days, life felt normal.

Then our nightmare began.

Without warning, Isabelle became desperately ill. She showed almost no signs of infection until she suddenly began having seizure after seizure after seizure. Terrified, I rushed her for medical care, searching for answers. When she continued seizing, I called 911.

At only 20 days old, my baby was fighting for her life.

She was rushed by ambulance to Children’s Mercy, where an incredible team immediately began doing everything they could to save her. Even then, no one knew what was causing this tiny newborn to deteriorate so quickly.

For two agonizing weeks, we waited.

Every test…

Every scan…

Every hour…

Wondering if we were going to lose our daughter.

Then came the diagnosis that shattered our hearts.

Severe meningitis.

The infection had already caused significant injury to her brain.

Within days, Isabelle went into respiratory failure and had to be placed on a ventilator to stay alive. She was given every seizure medication doctors could safely administer, yet the seizures continued. Watching your tiny baby lie surrounded by machines, unable to hold her, unable to make the pain stop, is something no parent can ever prepare for.

Just when we thought things couldn’t get worse…

They did.

I woke up one morning and immediately knew something was terribly wrong. Isabelle’s head had become dramatically swollen overnight. The infection had caused a devastating brain bleed.

We were told to prepare for the possibility of losing her.

I barely left her bedside.

Every beep from a monitor made my heart stop.

Every night I wondered if it would be our last together.

Then…

Our little girl began proving everyone wrong.

Little by little…

Day by day…

Prayer by prayer…

She kept fighting.

Doctors warned us she might never wake up.

She woke up.

They feared she might never breathe on her own.

Today, the breathing tube has been removed. She is now on CPAP, and her respiratory rate has been turned down to zero—meaning every single breath she takes is one she takes herself.

They worried she might never recognize me.

Now she knows her mommy’s voice. She cries until I pick her up, then settles peacefully in my arms.

They worried she might never move purposefully.

She moves every one of her tiny arms and legs.

She’s even begun lifting her own head.

Every smile.

Every cry.

Every stretch.

Every breath.

They are miracles we never take for granted.

But our journey is far from over.

Isabelle still battles seizures while her medical team carefully adjusts medications. She must be safely weaned from ketamine, come completely off breathing support, relearn how to eat, and begin months of rehabilitation. No one can tell us when she’ll finally come home.

Our lives have completely changed.

My mother and I have left everything behind to stay by Isabelle’s side. Home is an hour and a half away, and in more than two months I’ve only been back once. Our vehicle has broken down, making even simple trips incredibly difficult. I cannot return to work because my place is beside my daughter while she fights for her future. My mother left her longtime job and found work just a block from the hospital so we could continue being here for Isabelle every single day.

The expenses have become overwhelming. If and when Isabelle makes it out of this hospital, I will not be able to go back home with her to our small town where medical resources are little to none. The list of expenses includes:

Food.

Lodging.

Transportation.

Parking.

Basic necessities.

And lost income.

Your generosity could provide housing for Isabelle where she’s safest, near a children’s speciality hospital. Every dollar goes toward keeping us close enough to hold Isabelle’s hand when she needs us most.

If you’ve read this far, you’ve already given us something precious: your time.

If you’re able to donate, whether it’s $5 or $500, you aren’t simply helping pay bills.

You’re helping a mother stay beside her daughter during the hardest fight of her life.

You’re helping ensure Isabelle never has to face another procedure, another seizure, another frightening moment without the people who love her most.

And if you’re unable to give financially, we ask one thing:

Please share Isabelle’s story.

Please keep praying.

Please believe in miracles the way our little girl has taught us to.

She has already overcome obstacles no one thought she could.

We believe her story isn’t finished yet.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for every prayer, every share, every donation, and every act of kindness. Your support allows us to stay where we belong—at Isabelle’s bedside—as she continues fighting toward the day we finally bring her home.

Please continue to pray for our miracle, Isabelle Mae.

#PrayForIsabelleMae