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Help my child

@raneen2026

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🚨 Please... Don't make me say goodbye to my child forever! 💔😭

I am writing to you drowning in tears... My hands are trembling, my heart is bleeding, and my breath is almost stopped from the pain... My little child, my innocent angel, now lies between life and death, surrounded by wires and machines, unable even to breathe on his own... His tiny body is trembling, his eyes are half-closed as if he is begging for life, as if he is begging me to do something... But I am helpless, completely helpless!

The doctors told me the deadly truth: "Either the surgery is performed immediately, or his little heart will stop beating..." How could my ears bear to hear these words? How could my feet bear to stand after such shock? How could I face my child dying in front of me when I don't have the money to save him?

I am a mother watching her beloved child die before her eyes, moment after moment, and I cannot reach out to him, hold him, and promise him that everything will be okay... because he is not okay! My child is drowning in pain, and I am drowning in helplessness...

Please, imagine for a moment that you are in my place... Imagine hearing that your little one will die because you don't have enough money to save him... How would you feel? How would you breathe? How would you sleep? I haven't slept in days, I haven't tasted food, I no longer feel alive, because my entire life is fading before me, and any moment could be his last...

I am not asking for much... just a chance for my child to live! Any donation, any help, any sharing of this cry could be his lifeline! Please, don't let him go... Don't let my baby's hug become empty forever... Don't leave me to live this nightmare alone!

💔 O God, do not test any mother's heart as mine has been tested... O God, do not make anyone suffer this torment...
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Reblogged
🚨 Please... Don't make me say goodbye to my child forever! 💔😭

I am writing to you drowning in tears... My hands are trembling, my heart is bleeding, and my breath is almost stopped from the pain... My little child, my innocent angel, now lies between life and death, surrounded by wires and machines, unable even to breathe on his own... His tiny body is trembling, his eyes are half-closed as if he is begging for life, as if he is begging me to do something... But I am helpless, completely helpless!

The doctors told me the deadly truth: "Either the surgery is performed immediately, or his little heart will stop beating..." How could my ears bear to hear these words? How could my feet bear to stand after such shock? How could I face my child dying in front of me when I don't have the money to save him?

I am a mother watching her beloved child die before her eyes, moment after moment, and I cannot reach out to him, hold him, and promise him that everything will be okay... because he is not okay! My child is drowning in pain, and I am drowning in helplessness...

Please, imagine for a moment that you are in my place... Imagine hearing that your little one will die because you don't have enough money to save him... How would you feel? How would you breathe? How would you sleep? I haven't slept in days, I haven't tasted food, I no longer feel alive, because my entire life is fading before me, and any moment could be his last...

I am not asking for much... just a chance for my child to live! Any donation, any help, any sharing of this cry could be his lifeline! Please, don't let him go... Don't let my baby's hug become empty forever... Don't leave me to live this nightmare alone!

💔 O God, do not test any mother's heart as mine has been tested... O God, do not make anyone suffer this torment...
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Reblogged

Mohammed is dying in my arms... and I can't save him 💔

How does a father cope with the moment when he sees his child slipping from his grasp, suffocating in front of him, trembling, groaning in pain, while he can do nothing but cry? How do I bear Mohammed's gaze as he stares at me with eyes filled with fear, silently asking, "Father, why are you letting me die?" And I have no answer. All I have is my tears falling down his little face, as if they're an apology for not being a father capable of saving him.

My son is dying in front of me.His breathing is fading. His body is trembling. His eyes are fading.

And the doctors are looking at me with merciless looks: "Either surgery immediately... or prepare to say goodbye."

His goodbye? How can a father hear those words and live? How can I stand helpless and watch my child slip through my fingers, knowing there is a chance to save him, but it isn't mine?

Mohammed is suffering from severe lung infections, and his tiny body can no longer resist. He needs urgent surgery, but I am poor, destitute, and unable to afford life. How can money be the barrier between me and saving my child? How can I accept that disability is the reason I lose him?

I feel like I'm living an endless nightmare... trapped in a moment that repeats itself mercilessly, a moment in which I see him in pain, unable to do anything. Don't let me bury him, knowing that I could have saved him if only a compassionate hand had reached out to me.

Please, don't let him die.Don't let my shroud be in my little one's hands.Don't let his voice fade forever while you still have a chance to save him.

Every passing minute steals him further from me... every moment brings me closer to disaster. Any support, any sharing, any heart that moves to save him could mean the difference between life and death for my child.

💔 Please... Save Mohammed before his name is written among the departed... before this plea turns into an elegy. 💔

#SaveMohammed

#Don'tLetHimDie

#MyChildIsDyingBeforeMyEyes

#Mohammed'sLifeIsATrust

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Reblogged

Mohammed is dying in my arms... and I can't save him 💔

How does a father cope with the moment when he sees his child slipping from his grasp, suffocating in front of him, trembling, groaning in pain, while he can do nothing but cry? How do I bear Mohammed's gaze as he stares at me with eyes filled with fear, silently asking, "Father, why are you letting me die?" And I have no answer. All I have is my tears falling down his little face, as if they're an apology for not being a father capable of saving him.

My son is dying in front of me.His breathing is fading. His body is trembling. His eyes are fading.

And the doctors are looking at me with merciless looks: "Either surgery immediately... or prepare to say goodbye."

His goodbye? How can a father hear those words and live? How can I stand helpless and watch my child slip through my fingers, knowing there is a chance to save him, but it isn't mine?

Mohammed is suffering from severe lung infections, and his tiny body can no longer resist. He needs urgent surgery, but I am poor, destitute, and unable to afford life. How can money be the barrier between me and saving my child? How can I accept that disability is the reason I lose him?

I feel like I'm living an endless nightmare... trapped in a moment that repeats itself mercilessly, a moment in which I see him in pain, unable to do anything. Don't let me bury him, knowing that I could have saved him if only a compassionate hand had reached out to me.

Please, don't let him die.Don't let my shroud be in my little one's hands.Don't let his voice fade forever while you still have a chance to save him.

Every passing minute steals him further from me... every moment brings me closer to disaster. Any support, any sharing, any heart that moves to save him could mean the difference between life and death for my child.

💔 Please... Save Mohammed before his name is written among the departed... before this plea turns into an elegy. 💔

#SaveMohammed

#Don'tLetHimDie

#MyChildIsDyingBeforeMyEyes

#Mohammed'sLifeIsATrust

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Reblogged

Mohammed is dying in my arms... and I can't save him 💔

How does a father cope with the moment when he sees his child slipping from his grasp, suffocating in front of him, trembling, groaning in pain, while he can do nothing but cry? How do I bear Mohammed's gaze as he stares at me with eyes filled with fear, silently asking, "Father, why are you letting me die?" And I have no answer. All I have is my tears falling down his little face, as if they're an apology for not being a father capable of saving him.

My son is dying in front of me.His breathing is fading. His body is trembling. His eyes are fading.

And the doctors are looking at me with merciless looks: "Either surgery immediately... or prepare to say goodbye."

His goodbye? How can a father hear those words and live? How can I stand helpless and watch my child slip through my fingers, knowing there is a chance to save him, but it isn't mine?

Mohammed is suffering from severe lung infections, and his tiny body can no longer resist. He needs urgent surgery, but I am poor, destitute, and unable to afford life. How can money be the barrier between me and saving my child? How can I accept that disability is the reason I lose him?

I feel like I'm living an endless nightmare... trapped in a moment that repeats itself mercilessly, a moment in which I see him in pain, unable to do anything. Don't let me bury him, knowing that I could have saved him if only a compassionate hand had reached out to me.

Please, don't let him die.Don't let my shroud be in my little one's hands.Don't let his voice fade forever while you still have a chance to save him.

Every passing minute steals him further from me... every moment brings me closer to disaster. Any support, any sharing, any heart that moves to save him could mean the difference between life and death for my child.

💔 Please... Save Mohammed before his name is written among the departed... before this plea turns into an elegy. 💔

#SaveMohammed

#Don'tLetHimDie

#MyChildIsDyingBeforeMyEyes

#Mohammed'sLifeIsATrust

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Reblogged

Mohammed is dying in my arms... and I can't save him 💔

How does a father cope with the moment when he sees his child slipping from his grasp, suffocating in front of him, trembling, groaning in pain, while he can do nothing but cry? How do I bear Mohammed's gaze as he stares at me with eyes filled with fear, silently asking, "Father, why are you letting me die?" And I have no answer. All I have is my tears falling down his little face, as if they're an apology for not being a father capable of saving him.

My son is dying in front of me.His breathing is fading. His body is trembling. His eyes are fading.

And the doctors are looking at me with merciless looks: "Either surgery immediately... or prepare to say goodbye."

His goodbye? How can a father hear those words and live? How can I stand helpless and watch my child slip through my fingers, knowing there is a chance to save him, but it isn't mine?

Mohammed is suffering from severe lung infections, and his tiny body can no longer resist. He needs urgent surgery, but I am poor, destitute, and unable to afford life. How can money be the barrier between me and saving my child? How can I accept that disability is the reason I lose him?

I feel like I'm living an endless nightmare... trapped in a moment that repeats itself mercilessly, a moment in which I see him in pain, unable to do anything. Don't let me bury him, knowing that I could have saved him if only a compassionate hand had reached out to me.

Please, don't let him die.Don't let my shroud be in my little one's hands.Don't let his voice fade forever while you still have a chance to save him.

Every passing minute steals him further from me... every moment brings me closer to disaster. Any support, any sharing, any heart that moves to save him could mean the difference between life and death for my child.

💔 Please... Save Mohammed before his name is written among the departed... before this plea turns into an elegy. 💔

#SaveMohammed

#Don'tLetHimDie

#MyChildIsDyingBeforeMyEyes

#Mohammed'sLifeIsATrust

Avatar
Reblogged

Mohammed is dying in my arms... and I can't save him 💔

How does a father cope with the moment when he sees his child slipping from his grasp, suffocating in front of him, trembling, groaning in pain, while he can do nothing but cry? How do I bear Mohammed's gaze as he stares at me with eyes filled with fear, silently asking, "Father, why are you letting me die?" And I have no answer. All I have is my tears falling down his little face, as if they're an apology for not being a father capable of saving him.

My son is dying in front of me.His breathing is fading. His body is trembling. His eyes are fading.

And the doctors are looking at me with merciless looks: "Either surgery immediately... or prepare to say goodbye."

His goodbye? How can a father hear those words and live? How can I stand helpless and watch my child slip through my fingers, knowing there is a chance to save him, but it isn't mine?

Mohammed is suffering from severe lung infections, and his tiny body can no longer resist. He needs urgent surgery, but I am poor, destitute, and unable to afford life. How can money be the barrier between me and saving my child? How can I accept that disability is the reason I lose him?

I feel like I'm living an endless nightmare... trapped in a moment that repeats itself mercilessly, a moment in which I see him in pain, unable to do anything. Don't let me bury him, knowing that I could have saved him if only a compassionate hand had reached out to me.

Please, don't let him die.Don't let my shroud be in my little one's hands.Don't let his voice fade forever while you still have a chance to save him.

Every passing minute steals him further from me... every moment brings me closer to disaster. Any support, any sharing, any heart that moves to save him could mean the difference between life and death for my child.

💔 Please... Save Mohammed before his name is written among the departed... before this plea turns into an elegy. 💔

#SaveMohammed

#Don'tLetHimDie

#MyChildIsDyingBeforeMyEyes

#Mohammed'sLifeIsATrust

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Reblogged
My child is dying in my arms.. and I'm powerless to save him 🍉🍉💔

How does a father write an obituary for his son while he's still in his arms? How can I describe the feeling of helplessness as I watch my child suffocate, tremble, and groan in pain, and I can do nothing but cry?

Mohammed, my soul, my heartbeat, faces death right in front of me. He looks at me with eyes filled with pain, as if asking, "Dad, why don't you save me?" And I have no answer. I have nothing but my tears falling down his little face, as if they're an apology for not being a father capable of protecting him.

My son is dying, and his days are slipping away from me like water through my fingers. He suffers from severe lung infections, and his small body can't take any more. The doctors told me in cold voices, "The only solution is urgent surgery, or else...!" They didn't finish their sentence, but I heard it all in their deadly silence.

But how can I save him when I can't afford a life? How can I accept that money be the barrier between me and seeing my child grow up? The amount demanded is huge, and I stand before it, penniless except for my hope in God and my supplications to you.

I am not asking for help, I am asking for life... a life for my child before he departs... before I bury him, knowing I did not do enough to save him.

Please... do not let him die... do not leave me to carry his shroud and carry him to his grave, knowing I could have saved him had a merciful hand reached out to me.

Any support, any assistance, even if it is simply sharing this appeal, could be the difference between life and death... it could be the miracle by which I save my child from the death that creeps closer to him every minute.

💔 Please.. save Muhammad before his name is written among the departed.. before this plea turns into an elegy. 💔

#SaveMohammed

#Don'tLetHimDie

#ADesperateFather'sCall

#MyChildNeedsYou

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Reblogged
My child is dying in my arms.. and I'm powerless to save him 🍉🍉💔

How does a father write an obituary for his son while he's still in his arms? How can I describe the feeling of helplessness as I watch my child suffocate, tremble, and groan in pain, and I can do nothing but cry?

Mohammed, my soul, my heartbeat, faces death right in front of me. He looks at me with eyes filled with pain, as if asking, "Dad, why don't you save me?" And I have no answer. I have nothing but my tears falling down his little face, as if they're an apology for not being a father capable of protecting him.

My son is dying, and his days are slipping away from me like water through my fingers. He suffers from severe lung infections, and his small body can't take any more. The doctors told me in cold voices, "The only solution is urgent surgery, or else...!" They didn't finish their sentence, but I heard it all in their deadly silence.

But how can I save him when I can't afford a life? How can I accept that money be the barrier between me and seeing my child grow up? The amount demanded is huge, and I stand before it, penniless except for my hope in God and my supplications to you.

I am not asking for help, I am asking for life... a life for my child before he departs... before I bury him, knowing I did not do enough to save him.

Please... do not let him die... do not leave me to carry his shroud and carry him to his grave, knowing I could have saved him had a merciful hand reached out to me.

Any support, any assistance, even if it is simply sharing this appeal, could be the difference between life and death... it could be the miracle by which I save my child from the death that creeps closer to him every minute.

💔 Please.. save Muhammad before his name is written among the departed.. before this plea turns into an elegy. 💔

#SaveMohammed

#Don'tLetHimDie

#ADesperateFather'sCall

#MyChildNeedsYou

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Reblogged
One last plea... before I lose him forever

I'm not asking for money... I'm asking for life. I'm asking for a chance to see my child open his eyes again, laugh, call for me... I'm asking for a chance to hold him without feeling his breath disappear in my hands.

My little boy, a piece of my soul, is fighting death right now. His frail body is trembling, his eyes are filled with fear, he's searching for me as if he knows the end is near... and I stand helplessly by his side, my heart crumbling, my soul torn apart a thousand times every second. The doctors said he needs urgent surgery, but death is faster than me... and money stands between me and saving him.

Imagine watching your child dying, and all your screams, tears, and pleas meaningless because you don't have the money... Imagine that life forces you to be rich to keep your children, otherwise death will take them from you mercilessly...

I am writing these words and my heart is burning, collapsing, dying before my child... Please, please, with every tear, every pain, every compassion in your hearts, help me with anything, with any amount, with any share of this appeal... Perhaps your hand will be the one that saves him before it's too late.

I don't want to lose him... I don't want to carry him to his grave knowing that the chance to save him was in your hands...

Please, don't let me enter the darkness of eternal sadness. Don't let me live like a dead person while I bury him with my own hands...

#SaveMyChild #EveryMomentMakesAMatter #AMother'sScreamAM #PleaseForGod'sSake

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Reblogged
One last plea... before I lose him forever

I'm not asking for money... I'm asking for life. I'm asking for a chance to see my child open his eyes again, laugh, call for me... I'm asking for a chance to hold him without feeling his breath disappear in my hands.

My little boy, a piece of my soul, is fighting death right now. His frail body is trembling, his eyes are filled with fear, he's searching for me as if he knows the end is near... and I stand helplessly by his side, my heart crumbling, my soul torn apart a thousand times every second. The doctors said he needs urgent surgery, but death is faster than me... and money stands between me and saving him.

Imagine watching your child dying, and all your screams, tears, and pleas meaningless because you don't have the money... Imagine that life forces you to be rich to keep your children, otherwise death will take them from you mercilessly...

I am writing these words and my heart is burning, collapsing, dying before my child... Please, please, with every tear, every pain, every compassion in your hearts, help me with anything, with any amount, with any share of this appeal... Perhaps your hand will be the one that saves him before it's too late.

I don't want to lose him... I don't want to carry him to his grave knowing that the chance to save him was in your hands...

Please, don't let me enter the darkness of eternal sadness. Don't let me live like a dead person while I bury him with my own hands...

#SaveMyChild #EveryMomentMakesAMatter #AMother'sScreamAM #PleaseForGod'sSake

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Reblogged
One last plea... before I lose him forever

I'm not asking for money... I'm asking for life. I'm asking for a chance to see my child open his eyes again, laugh, call for me... I'm asking for a chance to hold him without feeling his breath disappear in my hands.

My little boy, a piece of my soul, is fighting death right now. His frail body is trembling, his eyes are filled with fear, he's searching for me as if he knows the end is near... and I stand helplessly by his side, my heart crumbling, my soul torn apart a thousand times every second. The doctors said he needs urgent surgery, but death is faster than me... and money stands between me and saving him.

Imagine watching your child dying, and all your screams, tears, and pleas meaningless because you don't have the money... Imagine that life forces you to be rich to keep your children, otherwise death will take them from you mercilessly...

I am writing these words and my heart is burning, collapsing, dying before my child... Please, please, with every tear, every pain, every compassion in your hearts, help me with anything, with any amount, with any share of this appeal... Perhaps your hand will be the one that saves him before it's too late.

I don't want to lose him... I don't want to carry him to his grave knowing that the chance to save him was in your hands...

Please, don't let me enter the darkness of eternal sadness. Don't let me live like a dead person while I bury him with my own hands...

#SaveMyChild #EveryMomentMakesAMatter #AMother'sScreamAM #PleaseForGod'sSake

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Reblogged
One last plea... before I lose him forever

I'm not asking for money... I'm asking for life. I'm asking for a chance to see my child open his eyes again, laugh, call for me... I'm asking for a chance to hold him without feeling his breath disappear in my hands.

My little boy, a piece of my soul, is fighting death right now. His frail body is trembling, his eyes are filled with fear, he's searching for me as if he knows the end is near... and I stand helplessly by his side, my heart crumbling, my soul torn apart a thousand times every second. The doctors said he needs urgent surgery, but death is faster than me... and money stands between me and saving him.

Imagine watching your child dying, and all your screams, tears, and pleas meaningless because you don't have the money... Imagine that life forces you to be rich to keep your children, otherwise death will take them from you mercilessly...

I am writing these words and my heart is burning, collapsing, dying before my child... Please, please, with every tear, every pain, every compassion in your hearts, help me with anything, with any amount, with any share of this appeal... Perhaps your hand will be the one that saves him before it's too late.

I don't want to lose him... I don't want to carry him to his grave knowing that the chance to save him was in your hands...

Please, don't let me enter the darkness of eternal sadness. Don't let me live like a dead person while I bury him with my own hands...

#SaveMyChild #EveryMomentMakesAMatter #AMother'sScreamAM #PleaseForGod'sSake

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Reblogged

A Father’s Last Cry… A Final Plea to Save My Son, Mohammed"

To every heart that still beats with kindness, to every soul that has never felt the unbearable pain of losing a child, I beg you—please listen to my plea.

I am a broken father, standing helplessly beside a hospital bed, watching my little boy, Mohammed, lying motionless. His frail body is covered in wires, his tiny chest rises and falls with the help of a machine, his eyes remain shut as if he is slowly slipping away… And I? I stand here, shattered, powerless, drowning in a nightmare I cannot escape.

Today, the doctors gave me the words that have already killed me before they could kill my son: “Pay immediately, or we will disconnect the ventilator… and he will die.”

How do they expect me to stand here and watch my child suffocate in front of me? How can I bear to see the life leave his body, knowing that I could have saved him—if only I had the money? My God, what kind of world is this? A helpless child sentenced to death, not just because he is sick, but because his father is poor Has poverty become a death sentence?

I am crying, begging, pleading… Please, do not let this be the last time I speak of my son. Do not let his voice vanish from this world. Do not let his hospital bed become his grave.

Any amount, any donation, any share of this message could mean the difference between life and death. Please, do not leave us alone in this pain. Do not let my hands reach for him in despair, unable to save him.

These are not just words—this is the cry of a father watching his son slip away. I beg you… Save Mohammed before it is too late.

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Reblogged

A Father’s Last Cry… A Final Plea to Save My Son, Mohammed"

To every heart that still beats with kindness, to every soul that has never felt the unbearable pain of losing a child, I beg you—please listen to my plea.

I am a broken father, standing helplessly beside a hospital bed, watching my little boy, Mohammed, lying motionless. His frail body is covered in wires, his tiny chest rises and falls with the help of a machine, his eyes remain shut as if he is slowly slipping away… And I? I stand here, shattered, powerless, drowning in a nightmare I cannot escape.

Today, the doctors gave me the words that have already killed me before they could kill my son: “Pay immediately, or we will disconnect the ventilator… and he will die.”

How do they expect me to stand here and watch my child suffocate in front of me? How can I bear to see the life leave his body, knowing that I could have saved him—if only I had the money? My God, what kind of world is this? A helpless child sentenced to death, not just because he is sick, but because his father is poor Has poverty become a death sentence?

I am crying, begging, pleading… Please, do not let this be the last time I speak of my son. Do not let his voice vanish from this world. Do not let his hospital bed become his grave.

Any amount, any donation, any share of this message could mean the difference between life and death. Please, do not leave us alone in this pain. Do not let my hands reach for him in despair, unable to save him.

These are not just words—this is the cry of a father watching his son slip away. I beg you… Save Mohammed before it is too late.

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Reblogged
Don't make me say goodbye to my child while he's still breathing... Don't let his last breaths be before my eyes while I'm helpless! 💔😭

I'm not writing these words... I'm bleeding them, screaming them, holding on to them as if they're the last lifeline before everything else sinks. My child is lying in front of me now, his tiny body connected to wires, his eyes half-open as if begging for life, as if pleading for my help... But I have nothing but tears, nothing but pain, nothing but this last plea!

They told me, "Either you pay immediately, or we'll disconnect his respirator."

Can you imagine the meaning of these words? Can you imagine being told that your child's life is just a number on a bill? Being given a deadline to say goodbye as if his death is inevitable, for no reason other than that I'm poor?!

I haven't slept in days. I watch his chest rise and fall with difficulty, counting his breaths as if I'm saying goodbye to each one, and waiting... Will this be my last? Will I be shocked now? Will everything stop while I stand helpless?

Imagine holding your child in your arms, feeling their warmth, hearing their weak heartbeat… but knowing that you may only be hours, or maybe minutes, away from losing them. Imagine hearing their breathing as they slowly die, and you don't even have the power to scream to save them!

I'm not asking for much… I just ask for my child to live! To see him run, to hear his laughter again, to feel his tiny arms wrapped around me, instead of holding his body in my arms!

Please, I beg you, by anything, by any amount, by any means… Don't let him go! Don't let this darkness swallow our lives!

📌 Donate link:

Don't let my son be a story told after his passing… Make him a story of survival! 💔😭
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Reblogged
Don't make me say goodbye to my child while he's still breathing... Don't let his last breaths be before my eyes while I'm helpless! 💔😭

I'm not writing these words... I'm bleeding them, screaming them, holding on to them as if they're the last lifeline before everything else sinks. My child is lying in front of me now, his tiny body connected to wires, his eyes half-open as if begging for life, as if pleading for my help... But I have nothing but tears, nothing but pain, nothing but this last plea!

They told me, "Either you pay immediately, or we'll disconnect his respirator."

Can you imagine the meaning of these words? Can you imagine being told that your child's life is just a number on a bill? Being given a deadline to say goodbye as if his death is inevitable, for no reason other than that I'm poor?!

I haven't slept in days. I watch his chest rise and fall with difficulty, counting his breaths as if I'm saying goodbye to each one, and waiting... Will this be my last? Will I be shocked now? Will everything stop while I stand helpless?

Imagine holding your child in your arms, feeling their warmth, hearing their weak heartbeat… but knowing that you may only be hours, or maybe minutes, away from losing them. Imagine hearing their breathing as they slowly die, and you don't even have the power to scream to save them!

I'm not asking for much… I just ask for my child to live! To see him run, to hear his laughter again, to feel his tiny arms wrapped around me, instead of holding his body in my arms!

Please, I beg you, by anything, by any amount, by any means… Don't let him go! Don't let this darkness swallow our lives!

📌 Donate link:

Don't let my son be a story told after his passing… Make him a story of survival! 💔😭
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