As many of you know, our family is preparing for Dallas’s surgery and the long recovery that follows. While our hearts are focused on his healing and giving him the best chance possible, the reality is that this journey comes with a heavy financial burden as well.

Between time away from work, travel to and from appointments, hospital stays, ongoing therapies, and the extra care Dallas will need at home, the costs add up quickly. Insurance helps, but it doesn’t cover everything—and the out-of-pocket expenses are more than we can manage alone.

This surgery is not just emotionally overwhelming, it’s financially overwhelming too. Every donation, no matter the size, will go directly toward easing the weight of these expenses—helping cover medical costs, travel, meals, and the day-to-day needs of keeping our family afloat while we focus on Dallas’s recovery.

Your support means more than words can say. Whether you’re able to give, share this page, or keep Dallas in your prayers, please know we are deeply grateful.

I wanted to share something very personal with all of you. On the 29th, our sweet boy Dallas will be having VNS surgery. The doctors will be making an incision in his neck and another in his head to place the device. We don’t know how long recovery will take, and to be honest, I’m really scared.

This surgery is a big step, but it could truly change his life. It could mean fewer seizures or maybe even being seizure free. It means Dallas could finally have more freedom to just be a kid. For Joe and me, it brings hope for peace of mind after so many nights of worry.

As his mom, my heart is full of fear and hope all at once. We’re trusting the doctors and praying this gives Dallas the chance he deserves. Please keep him, and all of us, in your prayers as we face this next chapter.

Dallas’s Story

On February 29, 2016, our world changed forever. What was supposed to be one of the happiest days of our lives quickly turned into the scariest. Dallas’s heart rate dropped, and doctors rushed me in for an emergency C-section. He came into this world fighting for his life.

In those first hours, trauma to his brain and fluid led to meningitis. He was rushed by lifeline to Community North and placed in the NICU for two weeks. From there, he was flown to Riley Hospital for Children, where he spent two long, terrifying months. We watched as our tiny baby, hooked to wires and surrounded by machines, fought with every ounce of strength just to stay alive.

Doctors were able to stop the meningitis, but not without leaving lasting scars. The brain trauma was severe. Dallas was left deaf, nonverbal, with cerebral palsy, and life-threatening seizures. We were told he would never walk, never talk, never have the kind of life other children do. Sitting in a room with 15 doctors telling us all the things our son “would never do” broke us in ways I can’t even describe.

But Dallas had other plans. He is 9 years old now, and every single day he proves them wrong. He runs, he jumps, he plays. He laughs with his big sister. He loves balloons. And even though he can’t say words, his joy speaks louder than anything I’ve ever heard.

Dallas has had more than 30 seizures in his life, and every day is still a fight. But through all the fear, all the tears, and all the unknowns, he continues to be one of the brightest lights in our lives. He is proof that miracles are real. He is our fighter, our hero, and our biggest blessing.