R O W Y N    G R A C E

           
Our journey didn't start in a pediatrician's office; it started before Rowyn was even born.
 

           My wife and I were informed at our 20-week ultrasound that our little girl’s kidney was measuring triple the size it should have been. If you are a parent, you know the deafening silence of an ultrasound room when the technician stops talking. As we sat in that office, we were sad. We were confused. We were angry. And above all, we felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. Did we do something?


We weren't sure what our next steps were, but we knew we had to fight.
 

          We made the decision to consult with the doctors at Duke Children's Hospital in Raleigh. Now, I need to pause here for a second because you need to understand the gravity of this. I am a Tar Heel, through and through. The thought of walking into Duke territory goes against every sports instinct I have! But when it’s your child, the rivalries fade. We went to Duke, and it was necessary.
 

But having a plan doesn't make the reality any less cruel.
 

            We often hear about kidney disease in older adults—grandparents, retirees. But when it strikes a child, it is a thief. It steals energy. It steals growth. It tries to steal childhood.
 

            Most two-year-olds are learning to jump, discovering their favorite ice cream, and throwing tantrums over bedtime. Rowyn is doing those things, too—but her reality is vastly different.
 

            Her childhood is being interrupted by blood draws, nephrology appointments, and the sterile hum of medical machinery. While other parents worry about scraped knees, we worry about kidney function numbers and organ failure. Unlike a broken bone that heals in six weeks, kidney disease is a 24/7 job. It never clocks out. For a child, it means constant monitoring of every ounce of fluid she drinks and every gram of protein she eats.
 

It is a heavy, invisible weight for a toddler to carry.
 

             It is a harsh reality to watch your baby fight a battle her body is too small to understand. It breaks us to hold her down for tests when all we want to do is scoop her up and run away from it all.
 

Rowyn is a relentless fighter, but she shouldn't have to fight alone.
 

               We are fundraising for the National Kidney Foundation because we refuse to let this disease win. We are desperate for better treatments, for research, and for a cure. Every dollar you donate is a shield for our daughter and a hope for our family.
 

Please help us write a brighter future for Rowyn.