01/27/2026
There are parts of my story I don’t share often — not because they aren’t important, but because even remembering them still takes my breath away.
I became a mom at 18, raising my daughter Kaytlyn while learning how to survive at the same time. I’ve known poverty. I’ve known trauma. I’ve known seasons where it felt like God was silent — yet somehow, I kept going.
Then God gave me another miracle: my baby Izzy.
But shortly after she was born, everything changed.
Izzy aspirated a piece of popcorn, and no one knew. She got sicker and sicker. Day after day, week after week, doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I watched my baby suffer while answers felt just out of reach. Eventually, she was rushed to the children’s hospital for an emergency bronchoscopy — and that’s when we learned she was allergic to anesthesia.
What no one realized was how close we were to losing her.
I held my baby in my arms while her little body shut down. Doctors looked me in the eyes and told me she was only getting worse. They asked me to prepare to say goodbye to my child. I remember thinking, God, please… I cannot bury my baby.
She almost died in my arms.
She stayed in the hospital for weeks. Every hour felt like a lifetime. I was exhausted, terrified, and completely broken — until her uncle brought in a pastor. We gathered around her hospital bed and prayed. Not pretty prayers. Not polished prayers. Just desperate, tear-filled cries to God.
And then… something changed.
Little by little, Izzy started getting better.
Against the odds.
Against expectations.
Against what the doctors prepared me for.
God healed my baby.
Not long after, we faced another battle — watching my husband fight for his life while waiting for a liver transplant. Sitting in hospital rooms again. Praying again. Trusting again. Wondering how much more my heart could take.
But God was faithful.
Again.
Today, my husband is here.
My children are alive.
And I am still standing — not because I am strong, but because God carried me when I couldn’t carry myself.
If you’re reading this and you feel like you’re drowning… if you’re praying prayers that feel unanswered… if you’re holding on by a thread — please hear me:
Miracles don’t always come loud.
Healing doesn’t always come fast.
But God has never once let go of us.
Not then.
Not now.
Not ever.
🤍🙏
