“My son is only nine days old, yet his life has already become a struggle between breath and silence. I had imagined these days would be about holding him close, protecting him, and watching him sleep peacefully in my arms. Instead, I stand outside a glass enclosure, watching my child fight for every breath, surrounded by machines, wires, and fear. I whisper prayers because that is all I can do.


Every breath he takes feels borrowed. Doctors have told us that my son is suffering from Respiratory Distress Syndrome, Pneumonia, and Sepsis. His tiny body is too weak to breathe on its own, and he needs continuous oxygen support and NICU care to stay alive. He is fighting battles far bigger than himself, and as his father, I feel helpless watching him suffer before he has even begun his life. I stay beside him fo