Miller is two years old.

He has survived cardiac arrest, life support, two open heart surgeries and seven months of chemotherapy.

Now, after fighting his entire life to be here, we are being told there is nothing left to save him.

He is a twin.

He is a little brother.

He is the centre of our world.

Miller was born with a severe heart defect. At just two days old he had open heart surgery. On day three of his life, he went into cardiac arrest. We nearly lost him before we even had the chance to know him. He was placed on life support (ECMO) for four days while machines kept his heart and lungs working.

He survived.

But the fight didn’t stop there. He later required a second major heart surgery. He spent four and a half months intubated — sedated, ventilated, covered in wires. He remained on oxygen until just four days before we finally brought him home at six months old. While other babies were learning to crawl and babble, ours was learning how to breathe.

His lungs have been left damaged from everything his tiny body endured. He lives with chronic lung disease. He struggles with feeding and relies on tube feeds. His development has been delayed because his body has spent more time fighting than growing. The medications that kept him alive even affected his eyesight.

And through all of it — he smiles.

Then came cancer.

Miller was diagnosed with hepatoblastoma, a very rare and aggressive liver cancer. It makes up only around 1% of childhood cancers — something most people will thankfully never hear of — but it has completely turned our world upside down.

Stage 4. High-risk. In a two-year-old who had already survived more than most people ever will.

Seven months of chemotherapy followed. We watched poison drip into his veins and prayed it would save him. His tumour markers dropped dramatically. We let ourselves believe it was working.

But the cancer is too aggressive.

It is still only in his liver — it hasn’t spread — but it is growing too quickly.

We were told a liver transplant might be his chance. But because of his fragile heart, his body would not survive such a massive surgery. After extensive discussions and multiple specialist reviews, we were told he is no longer eligible for transplant.

There are no curative options left.

We have exhausted everything — overseas opinions, clinical trials, every possible door.

Chemotherapy is no longer holding the tumour back.

Radiation is our last effort — not to cure him, but to slow the tumour and give us more time.

Time for memories.

Time for joy.

Time for his sisters to remember their baby brother as more than a hospital patient.

We have been referred to palliative care. We are now preparing for the reality that our son may not make it to the end of the year.

After cardiac arrest.

After life support.

After two open heart surgeries.

After months on a ventilator.

After seven months of chemotherapy.

This is what may take him from us.

So now our focus has shifted.

We are raising funds to help tick off Miller’s little bucket list. To give him experiences with his sisters that they will remember forever. To create family moments that don’t involve hospital walls. To take photos. To travel if we can. To say yes to memories instead of constantly saying no because of money.

Miller’s bucket list is both beautiful and heartbreakingly simple:

• Bluey’s World

• Australia Zoo

• Taronga Zoo

• Werribee Safari

• The aquarium

• The museum

• A train ride

• Feeding ducks at the pond

• Visiting a fire station and sitting in the truck

• Riding a horse

• Puffing Billy

• Seeing the penguins at Phillip Island

• Staying in a cottage on a farm

• Splashing in puddles

• Movie nights at home

• Build a Bear

• McDonald’s soft serve

• Dance parties in the lounge room with his sisters 

We also want to create keepsakes that will last long after he is gone:

• Professional family photos

• Recordings of his laugh and voice

• Hand and foot moulds

• Fingerprint jewellery

• A storybook about his journey

• A custom teddy bear and quilt made from his clothes

• A lock of his hair kept safely

• Planting a tree in his memory

• Buying a star in his name

• Ash-infused jewellery so we can carry him with us

• A book of letters from family and friends

• Bereavement photography when the time comes

Things no parent should ever have to plan.

To do this, Miller’s dad — our sole provider — will need to take time off work. He has no annual leave or sick leave left. Every day we choose memories is a day without income. Alongside this, we are facing the unimaginable reality of planning funeral expenses for our child.

The funds raised will help cover memory-making experiences, travel and accommodation, everyday living expenses while our income stops, and funeral costs when the time comes. It will also help us support his sisters as they prepare to lose their baby brother and twin.

We are not asking for miracles.

We are asking for help to give our son the most beautiful life possible in whatever time he has left.

Whether it is $1, $10, $100 or more — every single donation matters. And if you cannot donate but can help us make one of his bucket list dreams happen, we would be forever grateful.

He has fought for every breath since the day he was born.

Now we are fighting to fill his remaining breaths with love, joy, and memories that will last long after he is gone.