It’s never easy to see your child struggle, especially when they are battling an invisible force that seems to leave no room for rest. Milo has been through so much, yet his journey continues to unfold with new challenges, moments of hope, and a love that never falters.
Recently, Milo had to be placed on antibiotics due to another infection. As a mother, you hold your breath with each new treatment, hoping it will bring him relief and not cause any further complications. Unfortunately, yesterday we found ourselves in a situation we’ve come to dread—Milo began showing signs of an adverse reaction to the medication. His body, already fragile from his condition, was not responding well, and we had to act swiftly. With a heavy heart, we stopped the antibiotics immediately and switched Milo to his emergency formula. This was the best course of action to give his gut a chance to rest and flush out the medication from his system.
When a setback like this occurs, it’s impossible not to feel the weight of it. Milo has not been as vocal today, and the silence is deafening. The energy he usually has is absent, replaced by an exhaustion that no child should have to endure. His little body is drained, not getting the calories it desperately needs to stay strong and healthy. It’s incredibly hard to watch him struggle, to see the light in his eyes dim, if only for a moment.
Today, Milo has been feeling flat, a state that as a parent you can’t ignore. Every day spent caring for him, making countless calls to consultants, coordinating with legal teams, and trying to navigate the world of healthcare for a child with a compromised immune system, feels like a marathon. Sometimes, it feels like you’re running on empty, desperately hoping for a breakthrough, for a sign that things will get better.
But in the face of these overwhelming days, it’s hard not to feel the weight of it all. The responsibility, the heartache, the uncertainty of what’s to come. Milo’s immune system is so weak that each new infection, each new setback, feels like a battle we’re not sure we’re equipped to win. Every small change in his condition, every shift in his health, is met with intense worry.
We are hoping that tomorrow will be a better day, that Milo will be able to resume his feeding routine and begin to pull through this. We know the road ahead won’t be easy, but we are holding onto the hope that Milo will find his strength again. He has shown us time and time again how resilient he is. He is a fighter. But it’s hard, as a parent, to watch your child fight so many battles at once. Sometimes, it feels like all you want to do is take the fight for them—shield them from all the pain, the illness, the uncertainty. But all we can do is support him, love him, and hope with everything we have that he pulls through.
In moments like these, when Milo is feeling down and I feel the weight of it all, I remind myself of how far he’s come. He has fought so many battles in his short life, and every single time, he has proven that he is stronger than we ever knew. There is power in the smallest victories, and Milo teaches us that every day. Whether it’s just a tiny smile, a brief moment of energy, or even just being able to rest peacefully for a while—these moments are monumental.
Today, as I sit by his side, watching him sleep, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for him. For the way he teaches me patience, resilience, and love every single day. He’s been through more than most adults, and yet, he still fights. He still loves. He still lives with all the joy he can muster, even when his body is betraying him.
As his mother, there’s nothing more I want than for Milo to feel better, to regain the strength he needs to thrive, to be the vibrant child he once was. But for now, all we can do is give him the care he needs, support him through the rough patches, and love him with everything we have.
Tonight, Milo will get some extra snuggles—something he’s always loved. Holding him close, giving him all the warmth and comfort he needs, is one of the few things that feels within my control. And while the road ahead may be uncertain, I know this: Milo is a warrior. And I will be here, fighting beside him every step of the way.
Thank you to everyone who has been there for us, supporting us through the highs and lows. Your love, your prayers, your kind words mean the world. It’s because of you that we can hold onto hope, even in the darkest of times. Tomorrow, we hope to see Milo feeling stronger. Until then, we will continue to care for him, love him, and hold on to the belief that this too shall pass.
Milo, you are our hero. You are stronger than we could ever have imagined, and we are so proud of you. You’re fighting, and we are right here with you, always. 💛
A Journey Through Loss, Strength, and Healing: Embracing Life After Ryan’s Passing.2917
Life has a way of shifting in an instant, turning what seems like an ordinary day into a profound moment of change. On October 14, 2021, I was living a life full of hope, excitement, and the love of my family. Ryan and I had just celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary, and we were eagerly anticipating the arrival of our second son, Leo, in early 2022. Our first son, Jackson, was thriving at 3 ½, and everything seemed to be on track. I spent my morning working from home, answering emails as I usually did in my role as a medical malpractice defense attorney. Ryan, with his rare day off, was relaxing with his dog, Louie, sipping coffee and playing video games.
But that day, a simple, innocent moment would turn everything upside down.
Ryan returned home from the gym, casually mentioning that he was feeling “weird.” He had been stung by a bee on his arm on the way back, but it seemed like a minor issue. However, something in his voice told me that something was terribly wrong. Without hesitation, I called 911, explaining that Ryan was having an anaphylactic reaction to the sting and urgently needed help. As I spoke to the operator, Ryan stumbled down the stairs and collapsed outside, his body losing strength in front of me. He passed out, and at that moment, my world fell apart.
I continued to follow the operator’s instructions, performing chest compressions as panic set in. Help arrived just in time, but as paramedics fought to revive him, I stepped away, desperately hoping he would survive. I was rushed to the hospital in a police car, and the ride was a blur of prayers. When we arrived, I learned that the paramedics had managed to get his heart beating again, but the situation was still critical.
Ryan was admitted to the Neuro ICU, where the doctors worked tirelessly to address the severe brain injury caused by the prolonged lack of oxygen. He was placed in a coma, monitored closely with a device measuring the pressure inside his brain. Cooling treatments were initiated in the hope of preserving his brain function during the first crucial weeks. But despite all the medical efforts, Ryan’s recovery remained uncertain.
Ryan’s first days were a blur of fear and waiting. When he eventually woke up, he was disoriented, unable to speak or move, and unable to recognize his surroundings. The man I had known, strong, protective, and loving, had become a shadow of himself, with severe cognitive impairments that left us uncertain about his future. Every day was a mix of small improvements and moments of despair as we held onto hope, praying for a miracle.
The challenges continued. Ryan developed a bone disorder, causing abnormal growth and severe pain, further complicating his already fragile state. Despite all the setbacks, we never lost hope. I held his hand through every difficult moment, clinging to the belief that he would return to us. But the reality of the situation began to sink in: this was not the man I had married, and he would never be the same.
Then, amidst the overwhelming stress of Ryan’s condition, I gave birth to our second son, Leo. The birth was bittersweet. I had hoped Ryan would be by my side, but I faced the overwhelming experience alone, with my sister-in-law as the only support. Both my sister-in-law and I tested positive for COVID-19, which prevented family from being with me during the C-section. The absence of Ryan during such a critical moment was heart-wrenching. I couldn’t hold Leo for an hour after his birth, and every moment felt overshadowed by the uncertainty surrounding Ryan’s condition. Yet, in the midst of it all, I knew that I had to continue for my children, especially for Leo, who needed me.
As the months passed, it became apparent that Ryan’s recovery would not be as quick as we had hoped. His cognitive function remained minimal, and we began to explore the possibility of hospice care. It was an agonizing decision, but we knew Ryan would not want to live in a diminished state. After many heart-wrenching conversations with family members, we decided to move Ryan into hospice care, preparing for the inevitable.
Ryan’s final journey was marked by a tribute from his fellow officers. A “last ride” procession, organized by hundreds of police officers and K9 units, took Ryan on his final journey from the rehabilitation center to his cousin’s house on March 17, 2022, exactly ten years after Ryan and I had first met. On April 7, 2022, after 22 days in hospice, Ryan passed away, leaving behind an indelible mark on our hearts.
In those final moments, I was by his side, holding his hand as he took his last breath. The pain of losing him was indescribable, yet I also felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for being able to be with him in his final moments. I had held him in life, and I would hold him in my heart forever.
After Ryan’s passing, I was faced with the unimaginable task of moving forward without him. I could have chosen to let grief define my future, but I knew I had to keep going—for our children. Ryan lived every day with joy, laughter, and love, and I knew the best way to honor him was to carry that spirit forward.
As I learned to live without him, I found strength I never knew I had. My boys needed me, and I realized I had the resilience to move forward. I began to embrace the life we now had, focusing on creating joy in our home and filling it with love, as Ryan would have wanted. Every day, I choose to live with love and purpose, for myself, for Leo, and for Jackson.
Grief is unpredictable. It has tested me in ways I never imagined, but it has also shaped me into someone stronger, more compassionate, and more grateful for the moments I still have. Through the pain, I have learned that life goes on, and it’s possible to move forward with love and purpose.
While Ryan’s death marked the end of his life, it also marked the beginning of a new chapter for me and my boys. I choose to live fully, to honor his memory by finding joy, and to create a future filled with love and purpose. Grief may shape us, but it does not have to break us. We are stronger than we know, and in time, we heal.
Ryan’s memory will forever live in our hearts. He taught me that life, even in the face of death, is beautiful and worth cherishing every single day. And with that, I choose to embrace the pain, move forward with love, and honor Ryan’s legacy by living a life that is filled with strength, resilience, and hope.
