A message from his mother:

If you are reading this, it means Alex is no longer fighting this battle alone. There are some types of pain that words simply cannot reach. When your child receives a devastating diagnosis, your entire world just shatters into "before" and "after." I still remember that hollow silence in the doctor’s office—that moment when you stop hearing everything around you and life suddenly feels surreal. We have been on this road for six months now. I’m not a specialist or a therapist; I’m just a mother who has had to learn how to look this pain in the eye and keep moving forward.

Alex was born perfectly healthy—a perfect 10 on the APGAR scale. He was our joy, our absolute light. But just before he turned two, a virus changed everything. What followed were agonizing weeks in intensive care, fighting for his life, and a aftermath that felt like a nightmare: left-sided paralysis, speech loss, and a diagnosis that no parent should ever hear—encephalitis and brain atrophy. That was the first time I truly understood what total helplessness felt like.

When we finally brought him home, my son didn’t even recognize us. He couldn’t walk, and he couldn't speak. Only his eyes remained the same—and in them, I still saw hope. Looking into his eyes is what tells me, in my heart, that everything is going to be okay.

For the past six months, our lives have been a blur of medication and endless medical tests, most of which are incredibly expensive and only available abroad. But because we refused to give up, Alex is walking and smiling today. He has proven to be stronger than any adult I know. After surviving ventilators, feeding tubes, and round-the-clock IV drips, he chose life. Even if he doesn’t speak yet, and even if he might not fully understand who we are… he is fighting every single day.

After a long and desperate search, a clinic in Turkey has finally accepted Alex for stem cell therapy. This is his chance at a real childhood—a chance at a future.

We cannot do this on our own, but I know that together, we can win. If you feel moved to support us—whether through a donation or simply a prayer—we would be eternally grateful. Every gesture, no matter how small, is a step toward his recovery and the hope that this transplant will save him. Please, don’t look at us with pity; just give us the strength to keep fighting. Treasure the health of those you love, and please, just hug children tonight.

With deep gratitude,
A mother who doesn’t have the right to give up…