💔 A Decision No Parent Should Ever Face

Today, I was asked to do the unthinkable: sign a DNR for my five-year-old son. Three words—Do Not Resuscitate—that no parent should ever have to confront. He’s already endured two rounds of radiation, with more planned. But the doctors gently warned: he may not make it home. They told us it might be time to stop. No more scans. No more hospital visits. No more treatments.

This isn’t giving up—it’s choosing mercy over suffering. Still, how does a parent ever accept that? The sorrow is endless. The fear is suffocating. The anger is piercing. Life feels unfamiliar, like a dream I can’t wake up from.

Yet even in the shadow of loss, there is love. Every smile, every touch, every breath he takes is sacred. Love is what keeps me standing, even as the ground collapses beneath me. Today I signed that paper. Tonight, I will sit beside my boy, hold his hand, and remind him he is loved beyond measure.

For as long as I have him, every second matters. I will memorize the curve of his smile, the softness of his voice, the way his fingers curl around mine. I will whisper stories into the quiet, hoping he hears them. I will tell him he is brave, that he is magic, that he is everything good in this world.

This is not the end of our love. It is the beginning of a goodbye no parent should ever have to say. But I will say it with tenderness, with gratitude, and with the deepest love I’ve ever known.

Because he is my son. And he is—and always will be—my heart.