My name is Alena, and I am the mother of my beautiful daughter Liza Yapparova. My little girl is only 7 years old, but already, she has experienced more pain than any child should ever have to endure. What I would have given to keep her free from suffering, to let her live a carefree, joyful childhood. But the reality of her life has been anything but that.
Liza was born with a severe heart defect, one that no one knew about—not the doctors, not even me. When she was born, I held her in my arms, overwhelmed with love and happiness. Her first smile, her tiny hand grasping mine, were moments I cherished deeply. But I had no idea that, with every breath she took, her little heart was struggling to keep her alive. We only discovered the truth by chance, during a routine medical check-up when Liza was just 2.5 months old.
The doctor examined her carefully, then paused, his expression turning grave. He said the words I’ll never forget: “Your child has a complex heart defect.” It felt like a knife had pierced my heart. In that instant, the world I knew collapsed. My sweet baby, the one I had dreamed of raising, had a condition that could take her life at any moment.
The very next day, Liza was rushed to intensive care. I couldn’t hold her, couldn’t whisper to her that I was there with her. They took her away. It was the longest 8 hours of my life. The surgery was difficult, the doctors worked tirelessly, and all I could do was wait, pray, and fear that I might never see her alive again. But Liza fought. She fought with everything she had, and she made it through. I cried in relief, but the battle was far from over.
The surgeries didn’t end there. One after another, Liza endured countless operations. With each one, my heart shattered a little more. The pain of seeing my baby go through this, of hearing her cry in agony and being unable to comfort her, is something I wouldn’t wish on any parent. After one of her surgeries, Liza had complications. She was placed back into intensive care, alone, surrounded by strangers. I could hear her cries from behind the wall, but I couldn’t be with her. When I finally returned to her, she sobbed for two hours straight. It was as though she was telling me that I hadn’t protected her, that I had let her down. It tore me apart inside.
Even now, Liza struggles every day. She gets tired quickly, her breathing is labored, and she finds it hard to do the simple things that other children take for granted. She can’t run, she can’t play, she can’t laugh and be free. She is weighed down by her condition, and I fear for her future. Her heart is growing weaker with each passing day, and I fear that if we don’t act quickly, we may lose her.
But there is hope. There is still a chance to save Liza’s life. The doctors at Boston Children’s Hospital have agreed to perform the second stage of heart correction surgery, a procedure that could give her the chance to live a full life. This surgery is Liza’s only chance to survive, to have the future she deserves. But the cost is beyond what our family can afford. We need $14,000 to make this life-saving surgery possible.
This is an enormous amount of money for us, and we feel helpless, unable to provide it on our own. But if we can come together, if we can create a circle of people who care, we can save Liza. Your help, no matter how small, could be the difference between life and death for my daughter.
I beg you, please help my baby. Liza deserves a chance at life, a chance to have a happy childhood without pain. She deserves to run, to play, to laugh like all the other children. Please, don’t turn away. Your generosity can help give her that chance. She wants to live so much, and I will fight with everything I have to ensure she has that opportunity.
Please help us save Liza. Every donation, every shared message, brings us one step closer to saving her life. Thank you for your kindness, and for giving us the hope that we can save our little girl.