Hi everyone,

My name is Marthie Lovely, and I’m writing this with a heavy heart as a very proud aunt asking for help for my niece, Abigail.

Abby is only 9 years old, yet she has already endured more loss and fear than many adults face in a lifetime. She is the daughter of my sister, Amanda, and a fallen U.S. Army soldier. Abby lost her father to suicide when she was just 18 months old—far too young to understand why he never came home, but old enough for that loss to leave a permanent mark on her heart.

When Abby was just 4 months old, our family was thrown into terror when she began having back-to-back seizures. She was rushed to Upstate Golisano Children’s Hospital in Syracuse, New York, where she was diagnosed with epilepsy of unknown cause. Watching a baby seize is something no family ever forgets. After months of uncertainty and medication, we were blessed with nearly a year seizure-free, and doctors were able to wean her off medication. We hoped—desperately—that epilepsy was behind her.

But in November 2024, that hope was shattered.

One ordinary morning, while getting ready for school, Abby collapsed without warning. Her mother found her on the floor, seizing. Panicked and helpless, she called 911. Abby was taken to West Liberty ARH and later re-diagnosed with epilepsy—again, with no answers as to why. Medications followed, but so did complications: incorrect dosing caused severe stomach pain, dramatic weight loss, and more fear.

In just the past few weeks, Abby has endured three emergency episodes. One caused her to lose consciousness and fall face-first into a baby gate, sending her to the ER to rule out a broken nose. Then on Friday, June 13th, everything escalated. Abby experienced a new, more intense seizure that required another ambulance ride. Once at the hospital, she suffered another seizure—the first time she’s had back-to-back seizures since she was an infant. She spent several nights hospitalized while doctors adjusted her medications yet again.

Abby is home now, but she isn’t the same. The medications leave her exhausted and uncomfortable. Her confidence is shaken. Her mother barely sleeps, afraid to let her out of her sight for even a moment. Every day is filled with fear—Will another seizure happen? Will she be alone when it does?

That’s why we are asking for help to get a service dog trained specifically to assist Abby. A properly trained service dog could help detect seizures, provide safety during episodes, and give Abby something she desperately needs right now: a sense of security. It would also help with the anxiety and PTSD that naturally follow years of medical trauma.

We already have the dog—we just need help covering the cost of professional service dog training. As a single mother raising three children, my sister simply cannot carry this financial burden alone. I’m hoping to ease that weight so she can focus on what matters most: keeping Abby safe.

Any amount of support—whether it’s a donation, a share, or a prayer—means more than words can express. Thank you for taking the time to read Abby’s story and for standing with our family during one of the hardest chapters of our lives.

With heartfelt gratitude,

Marthie Lovely