When their son turned two, Paulina and Mateusz Wawak heard the words that no parent ever wants to hear. The doctors’ tone was quiet, their faces solemn: “Your son has spastic quadriplegia with cerebral palsy.”

In that moment, the world seemed to stop. The plans they had made, the future they had dreamed of for their little boy, suddenly felt so far away. “It was a shock,” Paulina says softly. “You never imagine hearing that your child will spend his life fighting just to move, to speak, to grow. This wasn’t the life we wanted for him… but it’s the one we were given, and we’ll fight it with him every step of the way.”

Antoni — or “Antoś,” as everyone calls him — is their second, long-awaited son. His parents had imagined his first steps, his laughter, his first day of school. But long before those moments could come, they learned something was wrong. Even during pregnancy, complications began to appear. The fear they felt then has never fully left — only transformed into determination.

From the day he was born, little Antoś has faced more medical challenges than most adults will in a lifetime. He has already survived sepsis twice. He’s undergone ventriculoperitoneal shunt surgeryto relieve dangerous pressure on his brain, and posterior urethral valve surgery to help his body function properly. He also lives with a ureteral fistula and must be catheterized at hometo prevent recurring infections.

“Each time we thought the worst was behind us, something new appeared,” his father, Mateusz, says. “It’s like the battle never stops.”

When Antoś turned two, the battle became even harder. Doctors confirmed the diagnosis ofcerebral palsy — a lifelong condition that affects muscle tone, coordination, and mobility. The news was devastating. But his parents refused to let despair take over. “If he has to fight for every step, then we’ll fight with him,” Paulina says.

And fight they have.

Their days revolve around therapy — dozens of sessions every week. Antoś spends up to 20 hours a week in rehabilitation outside his home, working tirelessly withphysiotherapists, a speech therapist, and a typhlopedagogue. He trains using Vojta and Bobath methods to stimulate muscle control and balance. Progress comes slowly, often measured not in steps or words, but in tiny moments — a new movement, a longer gaze, a small sound that wasn’t there before.

Each one feels like a miracle.

But progress doesn’t come cheap. Almost all of his therapy sessions are private. The family travels constantly to consultations across Poland — to urologists, nephrologists, neurologists, neurosurgeons, cardiologists, gastroenterologists, and ophthalmologists.Every month brings new tests, new medications, new expenses.

They’ve equipped their home to help him live and grow: a standing frame, orthopedic seat, specialized wheelchair, hip and leg braces, and a stabilizing vest.Each piece of equipment is both a necessity and a financial burden. But without them, Antoś couldn’t even begin to fight for his independence.

And just when it seemed they were finding balance, another setback came. InSeptember 2024, despite all their precautions, Antoś suffered a dislocated femur, requiring complex surgery in Kraków. Soon after, new eye problems appeared — another question, another fear, another round of specialists and tests.

Still, they keep going.

“All these activities, all these sacrifices,” Paulina says, “they’re worth it when we see him smile, when he manages something he couldn’t do before. Those moments give us strength. They remind us that every effort matters.”

Because beneath the tubes, braces, and medical charts, there is a little boy — bright, loving, and full of life. Antoś loves music, laughter, and cuddles. He listens intently to his brother’s stories, responds with the sparkle of understanding in his eyes, and shows his parents daily that his spirit is far stronger than his body’s limits.

“He’s our hero,” Mateusz says. “He has taught us more about courage and love than we ever thought possible.”

The Wawak family’s journey is far from over. Each new milestone requires funding, each therapy session another act of faith. But they believe in their son — in his strength, in his future, in the possibility that one day he might take his first independent step.

And they believe in kindness — in the strangers whose help makes that dream possible.

“From the bottom of our hearts, thank you,” Paulina writes. “Thank you for standing with us, for giving our son a chance. Every donation, every prayer, every word of support helps us move forward. Antoś has been fighting since the day he was born — and with your help, he’ll keep going.”

Because while life gave him obstacles, it also gave him something greater — a family that will never stop believing in him.
And a world full of people who just might help him rise.