My last blog post was on June 1st, 2025. It feels like forever ago. So much has happened since then. I’ve been contemplating whether to share something deeply personal – my daughter’s health journey. The truth is, I had never even heard of Crohn’s disease until it entered our lives. And while I’ve wrestled with the need to protect my baby girl’s privacy, I also know this: I can’t truly call myself The Real Mom if I only share the polished parts of our story. Because this is part of my truth: watching my child suffer in ways I never imagined. And it didn’t start with Crohns. It started on June 25th, 2021 – the day my mother passed away from COVID-19. That day shifted everything. Not long after, my daughter and I both contracted the virus. And from that point on, life felt like a rollercoaster we never signed up for – a downhill one. Since then, hospital admissions have become our “normal.” We’ve been admitted at least fifteen times – maybe more. I’ve watched my daughter endure relentless pain, face uncertainty with courage, and hold onto life with everything she has. For four years, we were in and out of hospitals. Different doctors. Different opinions. But no real answers. One said it was IBS. Another blamed her diet. Then came H. pylori. And the list went on. Each time, we walked away more frustrated, more heartbroken, and more desperate for clarity. Until the day we met her gastroenterologist – January 29th, 2025. That was the day everything changed. In just one day, he made the diagnosis: Crohn’s disease. Since then, my daughter has been on steroids and is currently on chronic medication to help manage it. It hasn’t been easy, but at least now we know what we’re fighting. And I thank God. I thank Him for answering my prayer as a mom – even though it took four long years. If there’s anything I keep learning, it’s this: God answers – in His time. And while His timing doesn’t always make sense to us, it’s always perfect. That’s part of the reason I’ve been quiet here. Life happened. Again!!! We recently had my baby discharged from hospital. This time, she stayed in for five days – a big difference from past admissions where she’d stay up to a month, undergoing all kinds of investigations and procedures. But even in the quiet, I thank God. I thank Him for carrying my daughter through every hospital bed, every sleepless night, and every whispered prayer through tears. I thank Him for giving us the grace to press on as a family. For never letting go – even when I felt like I was. One thing I’ve learned (and keep learning) is that God is faithful – even when we’re not.
Even when the tunnel is dark and endless, He is still there. He carries me. He carries her. Teaching my daughter to have faith has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done – especially when I’ve found myself questioning God. But this I know: I don’t need all the answers. I just need to trust the One who already knows the end from the beginning.
So I’m sharing this, not for sympathy, but for you – someone who might be in your own tunnel right now. You’re not alone. God is still God. And faith – raw, messy, real faith – is what carries us through.
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