Holding them close, wiping away their tears, kissing their tiny forehead, and offering comfort feels almost helpless when the real battle is invisible, raging inside. But this is what I do every day. I am with him, and I will always be with him.
Staś was just six months old when the first signs appeared. At first, it was a small, hard bruise under his knee. Doctors initially thought it was a simple reaction to minor bumps, nothing serious. But a few days later, another bruise appeared on his back, near his kidneys. Fear began to creep in. Two weeks later, bruises appeared under his eyes, tiny purple crescents that seemed impossible on such a small child. Something was terribly wrong.
The next days were a blur of appointments, tests, and worry. We visited specialists, hoping for answers. Finally, the diagnosis came: stage IV neuroblastoma, a devastating cancer that preys on children. In that moment, my world shattered. There are no words that can capture the fear, the panic, the helplessness of holding your six-month-old son while realizing he is facing one of the deadliest illnesses a child can endure.
From that moment, our lives became a fight. Staś underwent eleven cycles of chemotherapy. In December 2022, surgeons removed a tumor from his adrenal gland, a procedure that felt both miraculous and terrifying. Following surgery, immunotherapy and radiotherapy intensified the treatment. Every day was measured in milestones and micro-victories: a stable night, a few grams of weight gained, a calm breath. Every day we prayed for a miracle, a chance for him to wake up and smile again, for him to live.
Even with every step forward, setbacks appeared. In November, Staś began complaining of pain in his head. Our worst fears were confirmed: a new tumor had appeared, this time in the facial skeleton. The terror returned in waves, each one harder to withstand than the last. We immediately began the second round of chemotherapy, hoping that the treatment would take hold. Now, we wait for the detailed test results that will show whether the tumor has responded, knowing that the next few months of his life depend on what those results reveal.
The emotional toll is immense, but the financial strain is equally daunting. Countless appointments, constant travel to specialists, medications, and therapies have pushed our family beyond our means. Even as we fight for his life, we must face the harsh reality that without help, our options may soon be exhausted. If Staś cannot find relief here in Poland, the next step will be a specialized hospital in Barcelona, one of the few facilities equipped to treat children like him. But the cost of such treatment is astronomical, and we cannot cover it ourselves. If we are forced to act quickly, there will be no time to raise funds, no safety net beyond the kindness of others.
From this place, holding my son, watching his tiny chest rise and fall, I ask for help. I beg for support. Staś is only two years old. He does not understand why his world is filled with needles, tubes, hospital corridors, and doctors in masks. He does not know that his life is on the line every moment, that we are racing against time to keep him alive. He simply trusts us, his parents, to guide him, protect him, and fight for him when he cannot fight for himself.
And fight we will. We will do everything in our power, every hour, every day, to give Staś the chance he deserves: a chance to play, laugh, and grow, to experience a life untouched by pain. But we cannot do it alone. Every contribution, every share of our story, every prayer is a lifeline. Each one is a step toward keeping Staś alive, toward giving him the future he deserves.
He is a little boy with a giant spirit, facing unimaginable challenges with courage beyond his years. He is a child whose life has already been a battlefield, and yet, he continues to smile, to trust, to reach for love. For him, every moment matters, and with your help, every moment can be a victory.
We cannot predict what the next day will bring, but we know this: Staś is fighting. And so are we.
From the depths of my heart, I ask you to stand with us. To help us fight alongside him. To give a little boy who does not yet know the world a chance to live in it fully.
— Staś’s mother