“Please Help Save Ewelinka’s Life – A Two-Year-Old Fighting Stage IV Cancer”.

“Ewelinka’s Fight: A Baby’s Battle Against Neuroblastoma” 💔

From the moment she was born, she seemed perfect — a tiny miracle wrapped in a hospital blanket.
Her mother held her close, thinking only of the years of love ahead.

But just days later, that dream began to unravel.

When Ewelinka came home, her mother noticed something strange.
Her little belly — soft and round — began to grow.
At first, she thought it might be normal.

But soon, it became clear something was terribly wrong.

The Diagnosis No Parent Should Hear

Doctors ordered tests.
Then more tests.
And finally, the words that changed everything:

“Stage IV neuroblastoma with metastases to the liver.”

Cancer.
A word no parent should ever hear about their child — and especially not about a baby just two months old.

“I couldn’t believe it,” her mother says. “How can such a tiny baby be fighting for her life before it’s even begun?”

They began treatment in Olsztyn immediately.
Chemotherapy was the only hope.
But instead of getting better, Ewelinka’s condition worsened.

Her mother held her in her arms the day she stopped breathing.

“I felt her slipping away,” she whispers. “I felt like I was dying too.”

Doctors rushed in.
They saved her — but the memory of that moment will never fade.

A Growing Monster Inside

Ewelinka’s tumor was enormous — 7 by 8 centimeters — growing inside a body not much larger than a doll.
Her liver swelled to fill 80% of her tiny abdomen.

The chemotherapy wasn’t working.
So they were transferred to Warsaw for life-saving radiotherapy — their last hope.

This time, it worked.
The tumor began to shrink.
But the victory was short-lived.

Another round of chemotherapy caused the disease to progress again.
New tumors appeared.
The nightmare was far from over.

Doctors classified her as high risk.
She was moved to intensive care.

Then into the operating room.

The surgeons removed as much of the primary tumor as they could — about 70%.
But it wasn’t enough.
More chemotherapy followed.
More suffering.
More nights of watching their baby hooked up to machines, fighting pain she could not understand.

A Timeline of Pain

After chemotherapy came another surgery — to remove the remaining tumor.
Then a bone marrow transplant.
Then another round of radiotherapy.

“I list these treatments in one breath,” her mother says, “but living through them felt like years. Days and nights filled with fear, pain, and helplessness. No one can imagine this hell unless they’ve been here.”

Now, Ewelinka is undergoing immunotherapy — one of the most difficult and painful treatments yet.
And still, the future is uncertain.

The Only Hope Left

Because Ewelinka is high risk, she needs a special therapy to prevent the cancer from returning — a deadly recurrence that would almost certainly take her life.

This treatment exists only in New York, USA.
It’s not covered by insurance.

The cost?
1.5 million złoty.

For a family already living on the edge, it’s an impossible sum.

But without it, Ewelinka’s survival chances are slim.
And neuroblastoma, when it comes back, is even more aggressive.

A Childhood Stolen

Because of the tumor pressing on her nerves, Ewelinka still can’t walk.

She will be two years old soon, but she can only lift her legs a few centimeters.
She’s undergoing rehabilitation, but the progress is slow.

Her whole life has been a fight against cancer.

She doesn’t know what a normal childhood feels like.
She’s never run across a playground, never climbed onto her mother’s lap without tubes and bandages between them.

“Sometimes I close my eyes,” her mother says, “and I picture her running — strong, healthy, smiling. I hold onto that picture like a lifeline.”

But the reality is harsher.
Without treatment, the cancer could return.
And another round might be too much for her tiny body to survive.

A Mother’s Plea

“All I want is for my daughter to live,” she says. “To grow up. To learn to walk. To go to school. To have a chance at life.”

She pushes away the intrusive thoughts of a funeral, of a tiny coffin, of a future that ends before it begins.
She refuses to believe it’s over.

That’s why she’s asking for help.
Because without the kindness of strangers, without donations — even the smallest ones — Ewelinka won’t get the therapy that could save her life.

Fighting for Tomorrow

Ewelinka’s story is one of unimaginable suffering — but also unimaginable courage.
She is a baby who has endured more pain than most adults will in a lifetime.
She is a child who, even as her body weakens, still fights.

Her mother dreams of the day she will walk.
She dreams of the day they will go to the park, and she’ll watch her daughter run into the sunlight.
She dreams of life after cancer.

But to reach that day, they need help.

“Without people with big hearts,” she says, “without shares, without donations, the cancer will come back and take her away from me.”

A Call to Action

Ewelinka’s life hangs in the balance.
She is not just a patient.
She is a daughter, a little sister, a tiny soul who deserves a chance.

Her mother has given everything.
Now she’s asking the world for one thing:
“Please, help me save my little girl.”

Because one day, Ewelinka could be the child who survived.
One day, she could stand on her own two feet, walk out of the hospital, and leave this nightmare behind.

But that day can only come if strangers, moved by her story, decide to give her that chance.

“A Race Against Time: Saving Patryk Before It’s Too Late”.2349

💔 “Mom, Will I Live?” — Patryk’s Fight for His Life 💔

“Mamo, czy ja będę żył?” — “Mom, will I live?”
That is not a question a six-year-old should ever have to ask.

But Patryk is not an ordinary child.
He has cancer — a deadly tumor growing inside his brain.
In his short life, he has seen more pain, fear, and suffering than most adults will ever know.
And now, time is running out.
If by February 18th they cannot reach a clinic in the United States, Patryk will die.

The Invisible Enemy

No parent can ever be ready for words like these.
Patryk had always been healthy — cheerful, curious, full of energy.
He loved to run, to laugh, to play.
To his parents, every smile was a promise of a bright future.

But beneath that laughter, something terrible was silently growing — an unseen bomb in his tiny head.
For years, it gave no sign, no warning.
Every jump, every fall could have been fatal, and no one knew.

It all began innocently, with a routine four-year-old check-up — just a confirmation that everything was fine.
Only this time, it wasn’t.

The doctor noticed something unusual in Patryk’s left eye — something his mother hadn’t seen, despite staring into those eyes every day.
A referral to an ophthalmologist followed, then a CT scan.
Within days, their happy little boy was lying in the neurosurgery ward, surrounded by machines.

And then came the words that changed everything.

A 9-centimeter tumor, pressing against his optic nerve, covering nearly half his brain.
It was a miracle he was still alive.

His mother asked the only question a mother can ask:
“Will he live?”

The doctor’s silence was louder than any answer.

The First Battle

March 2015 — the first brain surgery.
The doctors fought for hours, removing as much of the tumor as possible.
It was dangerous, nearly impossible.
But somehow, Patryk survived.

They filled the empty space in his skull with fluid.
For a short time, hope returned.
He could smile again.

But the relief didn’t last.

When the words came — “the tumor is growing again” — it was like being thrown back into darkness.
The same hospital rooms, the same sterile smell, the same cold fear.

A year later, another operation.
Another scar.
Another postponement of the inevitable.

But this time, complications followed — brain fluid buildup, weakness in his right side, exhaustion.
The doctors said quietly:
“We can’t operate again. His body can’t take it.”

Between Life and Despair

By autumn, there was no more pretending.
The scans showed new growth.
Options were vanishing.

Chemotherapy was offered — but even that was a gamble.
With this kind of tumor, chemo could help… or make the cancer grow faster.
There was no safe choice.

Patryk’s parents felt helpless — watching their little boy, half-blind, his small head stitched, his thin arms covered in tubes.
They whispered to him, stroked his hair, and tried not to cry.

“We promised each other we would move heaven and earth,” his mother said, “because we cannot let our child’s life slip away.”

The Miracle of Hope

And then, when it seemed that everything was lost, a new hope appeared — a message from California.

A doctor named Andrew L. Chang reviewed Patryk’s scans and said something no one else had dared to say:
“Come. If you get here in time, he has a 90% chance of recovery.”

After so many tears, so many sleepless nights, someone was finally saying the words they had been longing to hear:
“He can live.”

It felt like a miracle — fragile but real.

A Mother’s Heart

Parents of children with cancer share one unspoken understanding: hospitals become both battlefield and home.
Every beeping monitor, every sterile corridor, every small victory — they mark time differently.
They learn to celebrate the smallest things — a day without pain, a meal kept down, a moment of laughter.

Patryk, despite everything, still smiles.
He knows he’s sick.
He knows he might die.
But he still dreams.

And sometimes, he asks, with one seeing eye full of innocence and fear:
“Mamo, czy ja będę żył?”

His mother wants to say yes.
To promise him a future.
But she can’t — not yet.

The Race Against Time

They have one month — until February 18th — to reach the clinic in the United States.
One month to raise the enormous cost of the proton therapy that could save him.

Ninety percent.
That’s the chance they’ve been given — a number that feels like a miracle after everything they’ve endured.

And so they fight again — not against medicine this time, but against time itself.

His mother writes through tears: