Supernoah

Today is the big day. Noah is undergoing three procedures with three different specialists. His GI team will perform an endoscopy and biopsies to help determine the cause of his bleeding. His ENT doctor will investigate a suspected blockage that’s been affecting his breathing at night. And his dental team will take X-rays, extract a tooth, do a deep cleaning, and address any additional dental needs they find.

The entire process will take about five hours.

He went in smiling, playful, and in great spirits. In true Noah fashion, he was singing K-pop’s “Golden” right up until he fell asleep. 🎶

We’ve come a long way from heart surgeries. While today feels easier than those days, it never gets easy watching your child go through medical procedures. As a parent, that feeling never leaves.

We’re trusting God, trusting his medical team, and believing everything will go smoothly. If you could keep Noah in your prayers today for a successful surgery and a speedy recovery, we’d truly appreciate it. ❤️🙏🏽

I’m reposting this video from last year because of everything that’s been weighing on my heart lately.

This was the first time I went back to the place where I received Noah’s Down syndrome diagnosis.

People often assume that once you meet your child, fall in love with them, and watch them thrive, all of the fear and pain from that day simply disappear. But standing in that same place brought every emotion rushing back. The fear. The uncertainty. The feeling of being completely overwhelmed.

And with the recent conversations happening online, those feelings have resurfaced again.

It’s hard to explain. It’s like touching a scar that never fully stopped being tender. You learn to live with it, but certain moments can open it right back up.

What hurts most is knowing how many families are sitting where I once sat—desperately searching for hope. Because when you receive a diagnosis, hope can feel impossible to find. You’re overwhelmed by statistics, risks, and worst-case scenarios, and sometimes all you need is one person to show you what’s possible.

One story.One family.One glimpse of a future you can’t yet see.

I’m sharing this again so people can understand why this is so personal for so many of us.

My prayer is that families receiving a diagnosis today are given balanced information, support, resources, and hope. Not pressure. Not fear. Not assumptions about what their child’s life will be.

Because every family deserves the chance to make informed decisions, and every diagnosis deserves to be met with compassion and hope.

This will always be personal to me.