πποΈ Four Years Old. Forty-Seven Battles. One Last Victory. ποΈπ

π Today, I turn 4 years old β an age meant for giggles, toys, and bedtime stories.
But today also marks something far biggerβ¦
π My 47th chemotherapy session is complete.
And somehow, through pain, fear, and days too heavy for a little heart, Iβm still here. π€
π«Ά Iβve known hospital halls before playgrounds, needles before crayons, and bravery before most children ever have to learn its name.
There were tears π, tiny hands held tight, and nights when hope whispered instead of shouted.
β¨ And today β today is my LAST CHEMO.
Not the end of the journey, but the beginning of healing.
The moment where prayers feel answered, and tomorrow feels possible again. π€οΈ

π Please keep me in your prayers β for strength, for recovery, for a childhood filled with laughter instead of machines.
Because this little heart has fought hardβ¦ and itβs ready to live. π
π This birthday isnβt about candles or cake.
Itβs about life, survival, and a miracle written in courage.
π§Έπ Happy 4th Birthday to a true little warrior.
Still standing. Still smiling. Still believing. πͺβ¨