At just 14 months old, Ava’s world changed forever.
What should have been a time filled with first steps, first words, and simple childhood discoveries was instead marked by hospital corridors, anxious faces, and the unthinkable reality of a cancer diagnosis.
The word retinoblastoma was one her parents had never heard before. A rare childhood eye cancer, affecting only a handful of children each year, it became a word that would forever define their journey. The tumour had filled Ava’s entire eye, leaving her doctors with a heartbreaking but clear choice: to save her life, the eye had to be removed.
No parent is ever ready to hear such words. Ava’s mum remembers holding her baby tightly in the hospital, stroking her soft hair, wondering how something so cruel could happen to someone so little. She remembers the sterile smell of the operating theatre, the sound of hushed voices, the way her heart shattered as she kissed her daughter’s forehead before the surgery.
When Ava woke up, her life was already different. The tumour was gone, but so was her eye. And in its place, a future filled with uncertainty had begun.
But if there is one word that defines Ava, it is not cancer. It is not loss. It is not even survival. It is
strength.
From the very beginning, she faced challenge after challenge. Recovery was never smooth. There were complications—many of them. Her eye socket required surgeries to prepare for a prosthetic. Sometimes, those surgeries went well. Other times, they brought setbacks that no child should ever have to endure. Just recently, Ava underwent yet another operation on her eye socket, and more are already planned in the months ahead. For many children, the thought of repeated surgeries would bring only fear. For Ava, though, they are simply another mountain to climb, another hurdle on her path.
Yet her battles have not been only physical. Trauma leaves invisible scars, too. Ava’s mum describes how her little girl sometimes wakes from sleep with a start, crying from dreams she can’t put into words. Loud noises, bright lights, or even routine checkups can trigger deep fear in her. At such a young age, she carries memories that most adults could barely cope with. Doctors recognized what was happening: post-traumatic stress.
But Ava has begun therapy, and through it, she is slowly learning to heal. With patience, kindness, and the right tools, she is being shown that hospitals are not always places of fear, and that she is safe now. She is learning to breathe through the panic, to find calm even when her memories threaten to overwhelm her. Her healing is not fast, and it is not easy, but she is doing it—one brave step at a time.
Living with one eye also presents daily challenges that most people never stop to think about. Depth perception, something we take for granted, is harder for Ava. Walking down stairs, pouring a drink, reaching for a toy—all of these require extra effort and practice. Her balance is not always steady. Sometimes she stumbles, sometimes she falls.
But what makes Ava extraordinary is not that she faces these challenges. It’s that she never lets them hold her back.
She runs. She climbs. She plays. She laughs with her whole heart, the kind of laugh that makes everyone around her smile. Her mum often marvels at how her daughter refuses to let life’s difficulties define her. Ava will try anything, and even when she falls, she gets right back up with determination in her eyes.
Her prosthetic eye is part of her now, but it doesn’t define her beauty. What people notice first is her smile, radiant and full of mischief, and the way she commands attention in any room she walks into. She is bold, fearless, and unshakably herself.
Her mum says it best: “Ava lights up every room she enters with her bold personality and unbreakable spirit.”
And it’s true. Whether it’s at therapy, in the hospital, or just playing at home, Ava has a presence that draws people to her. She is funny, clever, and determined. She may have lost one eye, but she has gained a vision for life that few people ever achieve: a vision of resilience, of courage, of living each day fully no matter what stands in the way.
For her family, the journey is bittersweet. They grieve the innocence cancer stole from their daughter, but they are also endlessly proud of the warrior she has become. Every scar, every surgery, every tear is part of the story of a little girl who refuses to be broken.
Looking ahead, Ava still has more procedures to face. The road is far from over. There will be difficult days, days filled with hospital visits, doctors’ consultations, and operations. There will be moments of fear and exhaustion. But there will also be joy—birthdays, laughter, milestones, memories made as a family.
And through it all, Ava will keep shining.
She is proof that strength is not measured by size, and that courage can come in the tiniest of bodies. She is a reminder that even when life takes something away, it cannot take away the spirit within.
At just 14 months old, Ava’s battle began. Now, a few years later, her journey continues—but not as a story of tragedy. It is a story of triumph. A story of healing. A story of a little girl who may have lost her eye, but has never, ever lost her light.
For those who meet her, Ava teaches something profound: that true beauty lies not in what you see, but in how you live. That strength is not the absence of fear, but the decision to keep going despite it. That sometimes, the smallest voices carry the loudest messages of hope.
And for her parents, she is everything. She is proof that love can endure even the hardest battles, and that joy can bloom even in the darkest of seasons.
Ava’s journey with retinoblastoma is not just about cancer. It is about resilience, healing, and love. It is about a little girl who turned heartbreak into hope, pain into power, and loss into light.
Her story is far from over. But already, at such a young age, Ava has shown the world what it means to be unbreakable.
