A Chance to Live: Five-Year-Old’s Fight Against Cancer 💛.1304
He’s only five years old. Five years of wonder, laughter, and discovery. Five years of chasing butterflies, building forts, and filling every corner of his world with curiosity. But now, instead of running freely through meadows or imagining grand adventures, he faces something no child should ever endure: cancer.
Every day is a struggle. His tiny body, weary from treatments, trembles under the weight of a disease that robs him of energy and play. Oxygen tubes hiss softly beside his hospital bed, a stark reminder of the battle raging inside him. Yet through it all, his spirit remains unbroken. There is still a glimmer of hope in his eyes — a hope his mother clings to, whispering prayers in the quiet hours, begging for just one more chance to see her little boy laugh, run, and simply be a child again.
Doctors have offered a lifeline: a bone marrow transplant. The donor has been found. The hospital is prepared. Every medical protocol is in place. The difference between life and death, however, rests not in medicine or courage, but in funds that are still needed to make the transplant possible.
It is in moments like these that every heartbeat, every act of compassion, and every hand extended in help matters. Contributions, large or small, can move this child one step closer to a second chance at life — a chance to leave behind the sterile walls of a hospital room and return to the world he deserves: a world of playgrounds, bedtime stories, and sunny afternoons.
His mother watches over him constantly, feeling the fragile rhythm of his pulse and the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her chest. She remembers the sound of his laughter echoing through the house, the way he tilts his head in curiosity at the simplest things, and the warmth of his tiny hands holding hers. These memories sustain her in moments of despair and fuel her determination to fight alongside him until the very end.
While the journey is daunting, there is hope. Modern medicine has advanced to the point where bone marrow transplants can be life-saving. For a child like him, every hour counts. Every donation, every share of his story, every prayer whispered for his recovery brings him closer to the chance to see another birthday, to take his first swing on a playground, to feel the breeze on his face as he chases butterflies again.
Communities have rallied in the past for children in similar circumstances, proving the extraordinary power of collective compassion. This child’s story is no different. It is a reminder that human kindness can bridge gaps where finances and resources fall short. A single act of generosity could literally mean the difference between life and death, turning despair into hope and helplessness into action.
Cancer may have slowed his steps, but it has not dampened the courage of his spirit. Even on the hardest days, he smiles through the fatigue, showing resilience beyond his years. He is not merely a patient; he is a beacon of hope for all who witness his struggle — a symbol of the innocence, bravery, and unbreakable determination found in children everywhere.
The path ahead is uncertain, but the opportunity is clear. A bone marrow transplant could save his life. It could give him back the simple joys of childhood: the laughter of friends, the embrace of family, and the freedom to explore a world that cancer has tried to confine. And while medical science and skilled doctors provide the tools, it is our collective humanity — our willingness to act, to give, to share — that holds the power to change his fate.
Every heartbeat matters. Every act of kindness counts. Every share of his story spreads awareness and brings the life-saving transplant one step closer to reality. For this five-year-old, the future is not just hope; it is an urgent plea, a chance for life, and a reminder that even in the darkest moments, the compassion of others can light the way.
Let us answer that call. Together, we can give him a chance to live, to laugh, and to chase butterflies once again. 💛
Amelie: Our Little Fighter and the Miracle of Hope.515
At the beginning of February 2020, we discovered I was pregnant. From that moment, our baby was affectionately known as “Sprinkle,” as small as a single sprinkle in the app that tracked the pregnancy. Our hearts overflowed with excitement, even in the midst of the uncertainty of COVID-19.
By the time of my 12-week scan, I had to attend alone due to restrictions. It was our first baby, and it felt devastating not to have Sam by my side. I thought that by the 20-week scan, life might be closer to normal. I was wrong.
At the end of May, I lay on the scanner bed for our 20-week appointment. The sonographer laughed at how active Sprinkle was, marveling at her long legs and perfectly formed head. Then she said, “Right, I’m checking the heart now,” and the room’s atmosphere shifted.
She spent a long time scanning, asking me to turn, wiggle, and adjust position. My heart sank. Eventually, two sonographers explained they suspected something was wrong with the heart and recommended a specialist appointment in Southampton. I cried, taking a moment to ring Sam, who had never seen Sprinkle moving on the screen.
The following Monday, we drove an hour and a half to Fetal Medicine. Sam was allowed in — a small but precious consolation. After fifty minutes, the cardiologist drew a detailed diagram and explained: Sprinkle had
The rest of the pregnancy became a delicate balance of hope, normalcy, and preparation. We celebrated with a small garden baby shower, decorated the nursery, and prepared bags for her arrival. Tiny Tickers became an invaluable resource — reading stories and sharing them gave us reassurance and a sense of community during an anxious time.
On 30th September 2020, at 4:17 am, our baby girl Amelie was born, weighing 7lb 3.5oz. She didn’t cry immediately, but she was breathing and pink. We shared a few precious cuddles before she was taken to neonatal care to start prostin, a medication essential for keeping her heart duct open.
The following hours were surreal. I had no baby in my arms, no crib beside me, just an overwhelming desire to know she was safe. By 9 am, we visited her in neonatal care, where she experienced episodes of apneas and required ventilation. Later that day, she was transferred to PICU, and Sam accompanied her while I tried to recover and gather strength.
Amelie’s journey in those early weeks was a rollercoaster. She faced emergency surgery for a perforated appendix, a thoracotomy for her aortic arch, and eventually her full TGA switch and VSD closure. At one point, her heart was so weak that she required ECMO (extracorporeal membrane oxygenation) to rest and recover. Seeing her surrounded by tubes, wires, and machines was heartbreaking.
Yet, despite every challenge, Amelie fought. She responded to ECMO, gradually improved, and after 48 hours showed promising heart function. Her chest was closed, drains removed, and she was extubated. Slowly, she regained strength, started feeding orally, and finally, after nine weeks, we heard the words we had longed for: “Would you like to go home today?”
Amelie’s recovery has continued at home. She is thriving, feeding well, gaining weight, and showing the same remarkable resilience she demonstrated throughout her hospital journey. Though she still has her stoma for protection while she grows, her future looks bright.
For her birthday, Sam’s mum raised over £400 for Tiny Tickers, the charity that had supported us throughout this journey. We plan to continue fundraising to honor Amelie’s journey and support other families navigating similar challenges.
Amelie is our little fighter, a miracle of courage, determination, and hope. She has taught us the power of resilience, the importance of community, and the unwavering strength of love. Every day with her is a gift, and we are endlessly grateful for the incredible medical teams and charities who made her survival possible.
