The first time we heard the word hydrocephalus, our world quietly shifted.
It was the eighth month of pregnancy, a time meant to be filled with excitement, preparations, and dreams about the future. Instead, fear entered the room as doctors explained that excess fluid was building in our baby boy’s brain. From that moment on, nothing felt ordinary anymore.
Every appointment carried new questions. Every night brought silent prayers. We learned quickly that love, when mixed with fear, becomes something fierce. We promised Gael — even before he was born — that we would fight for him in every way possible.
Gael was born via cesarean section on March 25, 2022. From his very first breath, he was under careful medical supervision. While other babies were bundled up and taken home, Gael stayed behind, monitored closely by doctors who understood the seriousness of his condition. His life began not with quiet nights, but with machines, measurements, and watchful eyes.
In his fourth month of life, Gael was evaluated by a neurosurgeon. There was cautious optimism. Doctors believed there was a chance to avoid implanting a permanent valve by performing a delicate procedure known as a third ventricle surgery. On August 9, 2022, the operation was scheduled. We held onto hope with everything we had, believing this could spare him a lifetime of complications.
But hope doesn’t always follow the plan.
The surgery was unsuccessful. Shortly afterward, Gael began having seizures — sudden, terrifying episodes that left us helpless and shaken. Watching your baby seize is a pain that no parent can ever truly describe. It feels like time freezes while fear takes over every thought.
Desperate for answers, we rushed Gael to another hospital. After a second seizure, he was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit. Tests were run quickly, and a CT scan revealed a devastating complication: an intracranial infection. The fluid in his brain had become infected, putting his life at even greater risk.
Doctors acted immediately. They explained that Gael needed an external ventricular drain, known as an EVD, to remove the infected fluid and reduce the pressure on his brain. The procedure was urgent, and once again, we stood by helplessly, trusting strangers with our child’s life.
The days that followed were some of the longest of our lives.
For nearly 15 days, Gael remained in intensive care as doctors worked to clear the infection. Every hour was filled with anxiety. We watched monitors rise and fall, learned to read numbers we never wanted to understand, and measured time in tiny improvements. Through it all, Gael kept fighting.
Slowly, the infection cleared. Slowly, his body began to recover.
Once doctors were confident the infection was gone, Gael was transferred back to the operating room. This time, surgeons implanted a valve — a shunt designed to drain excess cerebrospinal fluid and protect his brain from dangerous pressure. The surgery went well, and on September 12, 2022, Gael was discharged.
Bringing him home felt unreal. After weeks surrounded by hospital walls, alarms, and fear, home felt like a miracle. We believed, cautiously, that the worst might finally be behind us.
But hydrocephalus is unpredictable.
About a month later, something didn’t feel right. Gael’s behavior changed, and the instinct that parents learn to trust told us something was wrong. We returned to the hospital, and a CT scan confirmed our fears: the valve was malfunctioning and needed to be replaced.
Four more days followed in the hospital. Four days of reliving trauma, of holding hope and fear in the same breath. On October 23, 2022, Gael was discharged once again — this time after a successful valve replacement.
Today, Gael continues his journey.
He lives with developmental delays and hypotonia in his arms. He takes anticonvulsant medication and relies on a shunt to manage the fluid in his brain. He attends physical therapy to help his body grow stronger and speech therapy, as he is not yet speaking.
Progress comes slowly. Some days are harder than others. But every small milestone feels like a victory.
Gael faces each challenge with determination and quiet strength. He smiles through obstacles, teaches us patience, and reminds us daily what resilience truly means. We are endlessly grateful for the doctors, nurses, therapists, family members, and strangers who have supported us with prayers and kindness.
Gael is with us.
He is loved beyond measure.
And his story — filled with courage, struggle, and hope — is far from over. 🙏❤️