She Showed Us the Way: Reflections on Emme's Brain Surgery

There are moments in life that quietly divide everything into before and after. For our family, one of those moments came the day our daughter underwent a corpus callosotomy—a brain surgery that would change all of us.

Leading up to the procedure, we lived in a state of suspended breath. The decision wasn’t easy. The unknowns were heavy. Fear crept in at the edges of everything—fear of the risks, of what recovery would look like, of whether this would help. But even in that fear, we held onto one thing: our daughter’s strength.

She stayed brave throughout. Braver than we ever imagined possible. She faced each hospital hallway, every monitor beep, and the cold operating room doors with a kind of calm that adults spend a lifetime trying to find. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t cry. She simply trusted.

And through her trust, she showed us the way.

The hours of surgery passed slowly. But when it was over, and we saw her again—resting, recovering, still here—we felt something bigger than relief. We felt grateful. Profoundly, humbly, grateful.

Grateful for the doctors who carry impossible knowledge in their hands.

Grateful for the nurses who cared for her like their own.

Grateful for the support of people who love her—some of whom we’ve never even met.

And grateful for a child who somehow teaches us, every day, how to see what matters.

This experience cracked something open in us. It reminded us that life isn’t measured by big milestones or perfect plans. It’s found in the small, important moments. A smile in a hospital bed. A squeeze of the hand. Waking up and knowing your child is still your child.

To the families still in the waiting rooms, still holding their breath—we see you. And to anyone who ever forgets just how strong our children are—just watch them.

Ours reminded us what courage looks like. And what really matters.