My Tuesday morning began with the mundane rhythm of parenting a six-month-old: feeding schedules, a diaper change, and a completely routine appointment. My only focus was a scheduled checkup for our sweet daughter, Charlotte, regarding her slightly crossed eyes. It was supposed to be a quick visit, a simple correction.

But in an instant, that normal, predictable world shattered.

The pediatric ophthalmologist saw irregularities—details that instantly changed the atmosphere from routine assessment to quiet, controlled urgency. We were immediately sent to Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City for an emergency ultrasound. Stuart, my husband, rushed from work, his face etched with worry as he met me just before the scan began.

I sat holding Charlotte, turning my face away from the monitor, trying to maintain a brave front for her sake. The room was cold, the air thick with tension. Then, I heard Stuart’s voice—a low, chilling utterance that broke my heart into a million pieces.

“Whoa, that’s big.”

In that single, agonizing instant, the terrifying new reality crashed down: they had discovered a cancerous tumor, Retinoblastoma, located deep behind her eye.

The New Reality of Chaos

A flood of questions and emotions—fear, disbelief, and crushing panic—crashed over us as the doctors delivered the diagnosis. They explained the urgent need for an MRI, the terrifying possibility of the cancer spreading, and the complex, aggressive treatment plan required for this rare condition. The shock was immediate and paralyzing.

Suddenly, we were not just parents navigating baby milestones; we were warriors thrust into a battle we never asked for. I am still struggling to get a mental handle on this terrifying new reality, where every plan we had for Charlotte’s future feels uncertain.

The medical team quickly confirmed that the leading experts for Retinoblastoma are based in Phoenix, Arizona. This means we must leave our home, our jobs, and our support system immediately to begin an aggressive treatment regimen, including intensive chemotherapy and potential surgery. We don’t have a grasp on what the short-term or long-term future looks like for Charlotte, Stuart, or our family.

An Urgent Appeal for Hope

Amidst this confusion and overwhelming fear, we know we cannot navigate this journey alone. We are holding onto the only source of strength that feels real right now, and we humbly ask for your support in the most sincere way possible: through prayer.

We believe prayer works. We believe it is real. It is the only thing that will help our family navigate this terrifying, complex journey ahead.

Please, send a powerful prayer to our Father in Heaven. Please ask Him to wrap His arms around our sweet baby Charlotte, to give strength to the incredible doctors fighting for her, and to make it all okay. We are holding onto hope, one breath and one prayer at a time.