Sage’s Journey with CHD

04/05/2026

Sage is doing about the same today, still requiring significant oxygen support while he's sleeping and even a bit while he's awake. We expected him to be getting better by now, but he's still the same even with breathing treatments every four hours.

04/04/2026

Unfortunately, Sage is currently hospitalized with RSV and requires significant oxygen support, which is currently set at 5L. The doctor has ordered an additional chest X-ray as there is concern that Sage may be developing pneumonia in conjunction with RSV. Although we regret that we will be unable to spend Easter at home, we will strive to make the most of our time together in the hospital.

04/03/2026

Sage remained home for as long as possible, but we are now admitted to the hospital because he cannot maintain sufficient oxygen saturation while asleep.

04/02/2026

Unfortunately, Sage seems to be bearing the brunt of a particularly nasty respiratory virus that we are currently dealing with.

03/24/2026

Please anything helps this amazing family lane was like a nephew to us he will forever and always be so missed

Our sweet, precious baby Lane took his last breath March 23, 2026 at 2:12am. He was surrounded by love, listening so soft music in momma and daddy’s arms.

Our hearts are forever broken.
A piece of my soul left with his.

We ask for your prayers while we grieve as a family and finish planning the funeral. Details will be announced within the next day or so.

Local friends/family — We love you all and appreciate the offers to help, but we are not accepting visitors at this time.

For those who have graciously offered help, you can send DoorDash gift cards to WarriorsForLane@gmail.com

Donations to aide with funeral costs can be sent to Lane’s Venmo:

Lane-Landry (last 4 digits 7198)

THANK YOU ALL for loving our boy and being here for our journey. There are no words to express the gratitude.

Fly high little angel. Heaven is so lucky to have you.

We love you FOREVER 🖤🖤

03/17/2026

We had a cardiology appointment today and the news is promising. The stent is still in place, but there are signs that he's thriving and outgrowing it, which is a testament to his improved nutrition and overall growth. We'll follow up in September to track his progress.

02/26/2026

Life is a beautiful, chaotic, exhausting whirlwind lately. 💙

Raising four boys is already a full contact sport, but navigating life with two medically complex warriors alongside two "typical" older brothers is a journey I never expected, but one I’m so proud to be on.

It’s a world of:

High Stakes: Balancing therapy appointments and specialist visits with soccer games and homework.

Deep Strength: Watching my younger two fight battles most adults never face, while my older two step up with more empathy and patience than I ever thought possible.

Total Chaos: The house is never quiet, the coffee is always cold, and my heart is constantly oscillating between "I can't do this" and "Look at what we just overcame."

Some days the weight of the medical gear and the "what-ifs" feels heavy. But then I see all four of them laughing together, and I’m reminded that we aren't just surviving—we’re building a bond that is unbreakable.

To my fellow parents in the trenches of both the "normal" and the "complex" I see you. It’s hard, it’s amazing, and it’s the greatest honor of my life.

02/23/2026

Autism is not a tragedy.
Silence is.

Autism is not something to fix.
It’s something to understand.

For too long, the world has asked autistic individuals to shrink themselves to fit into spaces never designed for them. To mask. To mimic. To endure. To apologize for the way their brain naturally works.

What if instead, we built spaces that fit them?

Autism is not a lack.
It’s a different language.

Eye contact doesn’t equal respect.
Silence doesn’t equal ignorance.
Stimming isn’t “misbehavior.”
It’s regulation.

Inclusion is not inviting someone into a room and expecting them to act like everyone else. Inclusion is changing the room.

Advocacy isn’t loud for attention.
It’s loud because someone has to be.

Autistic voices deserve to lead conversations about autism. Not be spoken over. Not be softened. Not be edited into something more “comfortable.”

Different doesn’t mean broken.
Support doesn’t mean shame.
Accommodation isn’t special treatment.
It’s equity.

And here’s the truth that makes people uncomfortable:

The real deficit isn’t in autistic people.
It’s in a society that refuses to adapt.

Believe behaviors are communication.
Believe that sensory overload is real.
Believe that joy can look different.
Believe that brilliance doesn’t always look typical.

Stop asking them to “act normal.”
Start asking how to make the world safer.

Autism is not a burden.
The lack of understanding is.

We don’t need more awareness.
We need acceptance.
We need accessibility.
We need respect.

Nothing about them without them.

And if advocacy makes you uncomfortable?
Good.

Growth usually does.

Sage’s journey with CHD

02/21/2026

Still not much to update health wise with sage but wanted to share some cute photos of three out of four of the boys. 🥰 I hope everyone has an amazing weekend.

02/18/2026

02/17/2026

They say parents are supposed to be the teachers, but lately, I’ve been the student.

At just three years old, my child has a "to-do" list that would exhaust most adults. Between the appointments, the therapies, the monitors, and the hurdles most people never see, their days are heavy. But their spirit? That stays light.

Here is what my medically complex warrior has taught me lately:

Joy is a choice, not a circumstance. Even on the days involving poked skin or long waits in sterile rooms, they find the one sticker, the one song, or the one shaft of sunlight that makes them giggle.

Progress isn't a race. We’ve learned that "inchstones" are just as holy as milestones. Watching them fight for a new skill reminds me that the effort is just as beautiful as the result.

Strength doesn't always look like "toughness." Sometimes, strength looks like bravery in a hospital gown or the quiet determination to keep trying when things are physically hard.

Being a parent in the medical complexity world is a journey I never expected, but I wouldn't trade the perspective it’s given me for anything. My kid doesn't just "cope"—they thrive, they love, and they remind me every single morning that we are capable of so much more than we think.

To my tiny hero: Thank you for choosing me to walk this path with you. I’m forever in awe