Klara came into the world perfectly healthy, tiny, warm, and filled with a light that wrapped itself around my heart from the very first moment. She was my ray of sunshine, my quiet miracle, the little heartbeat that made every day brighter. I never imagined that this pure, unbroken happiness would last only a short eight weeks. Then, without warning, her tiny heart simply stopped. Just like that — my child slipped into silence.
For ten long minutes, Klara didn’t breathe. Ten minutes fighting for her life… and in those same ten minutes, my world shattered. It wasn’t only her heart that stopped; it was the rhythm of our lives, the dreams we held, the certainty that tomorrow would be kind. That moment was the doorway to a reality no parent should ever have to enter — a reality filled with fear, pain, and a desperate battle for every single breath she took.
The lack of oxygen caused irreversible brain damage. From that day forward, Klara’s life changed completely. She was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, drug-resistant epilepsy, Fanconi syndrome, asthma, and chronic pancreatitis. Each condition alone would be a tremendous burden; together, they became a storm that never stopped raging in her small, fragile body. When she was six, her heart stopped again. Every day since has been a struggle — a struggle for breath, for comfort, for the slightest sign that things might someday improve.
Klara lives in a state of minimal consciousness. She cannot move, speak, swallow, or even blink. Her body no longer responds the way a child’s body should. There was a time when her epileptic seizures lasted up to four days without pause — four days that felt like an eternity, filled with helplessness and terror. Today, the attacks are shorter, but they still come, always threatening, always reminding us that peace is fragile.
In 2023, Klara endured three life-saving surgeries: for acute pancreatitis, for a leaking gastrostomy tube, and for a perforated stomach. The following year brought another operation for an intestinal obstruction. Each intervention saved her life… but each one also left deep scars that have caused painful spinal deformities. Her body is fighting so many battles at once, and sometimes, when I look into her eyes, I see silent pleas for help — a quiet suffering only a mother can understand.
Klara now requires constant, intensive rehabilitation to prevent her muscles and lungs from deteriorating even more. Because she breathes through a tracheostomy tube and is fed through a feeding tube, every movement, every breath, every moment must be carefully monitored. I care for her day and night, living in a cycle of fear and fierce love. If love alone could heal her, she would be running, laughing, and living the life every child deserves. But love, though powerful, cannot undo the damage.
Recently, her condition has worsened again. Post-operative adhesions make it impossible for her to be in any position other than lying down. If she sits or is lifted even slightly, her intestines obstruct, causing unbearable pain. My daughter now spends nearly all her time in bed, and her world — already so small — has become even smaller. A specialized bed and proper rehabilitation are the only ways to ease her suffering and prevent her body from further decline, but the costs are overwhelming.
I am endlessly grateful for all the help we have received so far. Without it, we would never have made it this far. But our battle is not over. Every day is a test of strength, patience, and faith. Every day brings new challenges. And every day, I look at my daughter — my little Crunchy, as I lovingly call her — and I know I must keep going. She has endured more pain than most adults will ever know, yet she is still here. She is still fighting.
I believe that together, with compassion and support from people who care, we can give Klara a chance at a safer future. A future with less pain. A future where she can rest comfortably, breathe more easily, and feel the love that surrounds her.
Please help us give her that chance.
Liliana Korzeniowska – Two Battles, One Little Smile.3543
From the very beginning, we knew our daughter would be born with a bilateral cleft lip and palate. We prepared ourselves for surgeries, hospital corridors, and long recoveries, believing this would be the greatest challenge we would have to face. We told ourselves that love, patience, and time would be enough to overcome it. What we didn’t know was that this was only the first battle.
Lilianka has been with us for more than three years now, and from the very first moment, she captured our hearts completely. Many parents say their child is special, but there is something about our little girl that truly enchants everyone who meets her. People often tell us it’s impossible not to love her, that her laughter can brighten even the darkest day. And it’s true—her smile is pure magic.
But behind that smile hides a reality that is painfully difficult.
Lilianka has already undergone four surgeries to correct her bilateral cleft lip and palate. Each operation meant fear, waiting, and watching her tiny body endure pain no child should ever have to feel. After every surgery, her face was swollen, bruised, and unrecognizable, and as parents, it broke us to see her suffering. Every time, we wished we could take her pain away and carry it ourselves.
We endured because we knew there was no other choice. These surgeries were necessary to give her a chance at a better life. Today, her face looks beautiful and completely different, yet we already know that another corrective surgery will still be needed in the future. The road we thought was coming to an end is, in fact, not over.
Then came the second diagnosis—the one that changed everything.
When Lilianka was just five months old, we learned that she had a rare genetic condition called 1p36 microdeletion. It is an extremely rare disorder, and at the moment of diagnosis, we were left alone with a name we barely understood. No clear answers, no clear path, only fear and confusion. It felt like the ground disappeared beneath our feet.
We needed time to process the shock and disbelief. We were told that this condition affects the brain, that it can lead to severe developmental delays, and that the future is unpredictable. In that moment, we understood that the real fight for our daughter’s life and independence was only just beginning.
Today, despite being three years old, Lilianka cannot walk or speak independently. She struggles with vision and hearing problems and lives with an intellectual disability. There is also a high risk of additional conditions such as epilepsy, thyroid disorders, intestinal problems, or immune system issues. The thought of what else she might face in the future is terrifying for us as parents.
Our everyday life is filled with therapy sessions and medical appointments. Rehabilitation, speech therapy, and constant monitoring by specialists are not optional—they are essential. We use every free form of assistance available, but it is simply not enough. The therapies that could truly change her future are expensive and far beyond what we can afford on our own.
To give Lilianka a real chance at progress, she needs continuous and intensive rehabilitation. She needs specialized orthopedic equipment, including orthotics and a walker, to support her fragile body. She also needs therapeutic trips—two focused on speech therapy and three on rehabilitation. We know this is a lot, but only this level of intensity can bring meaningful improvement in her development.
The beginning of our medical journey was incredibly hard, and it still is. Lilianka has already endured more than many adults experience in a lifetime, and yet she is still so small. Despite everything she has been through, her smile never fades. She remains our little spark, our ray of light, our reminder that joy can exist even in the hardest circumstances.
We want to fight for our daughter with all the strength we have. We want to help her become as independent and capable as possible. But we cannot do this alone. We need support, kindness, and understanding from people who are willing to stand with us.
This is about giving Lilianka the best chance at mobility, communication, and dignity. This is about building a future for our cheerful, brave, little Smiley Lilianka—our beloved daughter. Thank you for being here, and thank you for wanting to help us build her tomorrow together.
With gratitude and hope,
Milena and Łukasz, parents
