We’re Just Trying to Keep Our Son Safe and in the Only Place He’s Ever Felt Like He Belongs

I never thought I’d be doing this. But I’m a mom, and when your back is against the wall, you do whatever it takes for your kid.

Our family has been through hell the last couple of years, and we’re still fighting to keep our heads above water. My husband's seizures worsened in 2023. His epilepsy occurred in his sleep—terrifying, painful episodes that left him exhausted and scared to even go to bed. He was in constant pain, physically and mentally, and it wore him down until he just… broke. He fell into a deep depression. His doctor determined he couldn’t work full-time anymore. It was no longer safe. The seizures, the fear, the exhaustion—it stole so much from him, and from us.

We lost a big chunk of our income, left with only my paycheck for the most part. We fought with everything we had to keep our home and our car, just trying to hold on for our son. We’d gotten behind on our mortgage. The car was almost repossessed. Somehow—by pure luck and grit—we got through it.

In May 2024, we finally found a neurologist who actually listened and diagnosed him with left frontal lobe epilepsy. He was put on new meds that finally stopped the seizures. But they cost $250 a month—out of pocket. It’s a price we pay gladly because it’s saving his life, but it’s not easy to afford when we’re already drowning.

Then, right when we thought things might get better, around August 2024, my husband’s job shut down. He found a new one quickly, but it didn’t pay enough to cover even the basics. We’ve been fighting ever since to stay afloat.

After months, my husband finally has a better job. We finally have enough income to make things work again. But we’re terrified it might be too late. We are already so backed up.

We’re behind on the mortgage again. The car is about to be taken from us—again. And we’re begging for help—not for luxuries, but just for what we need to get back on track.

Our 15-year-old son has autism. This is the only place we’ve ever lived where he’s truly felt accepted. Where the kids don’t make fun of him. Where he’s made friends. Where he’s not depressed. Where the school actually understands him. I cannot lose this place for him. I cannot take him away from the first home that’s ever made him feel safe and okay in his own skin.

This isn’t easy to ask. But I’m not too proud to do what I have to do to protect my son’s peace, his happiness, and the one place that finally feels like home.

Please, if you can help—even a little—it would mean the world to us. We just need enough to catch up on the mortgage and car payments so we don’t lose everything right as we’re getting back on our feet.

Thank you for reading this. Thank you for caring.

— A mom trying not to fail her family

Donations will go straight to our mortgage payments