Raising a Phoenix

How My Daughter’s Courage Taught Me to Fly Again

By Victoria Cuore-Solomon

October is Domestic Violence Awareness

The Day Everything Changed

If someone had told me that the most influential, empowering, and inspirational hero would arrive entangled in wires and tubes and fit literally in the palm of my hand. I would have dismissed it outright. But fate has a way of rewriting expectations.

My story began not with sunshine or innocent giggles but with the shrill wail of sirens, whispered prayers, and the sound of a helicopter fading into the afternoon sky. My daughter Faith wasn’t delivered into this world; she wrestled herself into it with every ounce of strength she possessed.

That afternoon, we both stood far too close to death’s door. The domestic violence that consumed my pregnancy had pushed my body past its breaking point. I remember seeing her for only a brief moment, never being able to hold her or even touch her as the flight team wheeled her away, up to where their helicopter was.

Moments later, as I lay in the ICU, I couldn’t move. 

All I heard was the helicopter’s blades roar to life, and as it lifted off, it carried with it my heart and every hope I had left.

They said she might not survive. Through the fog of pain and disbelief, I made a promise: I would spend every day making sure she never had to know the kind of fear I endured every single day for almost the last year.

Life Inside the NICU

We lived within the walls of the NICU for what felt like forever. Machines beeped, monitors hummed, and every tiny breath she managed felt like a miracle I hadn’t earned. The nurses called her “the miraculous angel.” I called her Faith, because that’s what she gave me.

More than fifty operations came after that. I lost track of how many times I stood frozen in hospital corridors, hands clasped tightly, begging and praying, wishing that it was me instead of her at that moment. Every scar etched into her skin tells a story of survival. Every smile she offered was a hard-won victory.

My body was still broken from the injuries of that violence, and my spirit was trying to find itself after all that we endured. But sitting beside her, I felt something new, a renewal. Her fight taught me that I still had some fight left, too.

“She fought for every breath, and with each one, I learned how to breathe again.”

Unbreakable Resilience Beyond Ruin

Defying every setback, she battled fiercely for each breath, refusing to yield. Her spirit surged forward, unshaken by adversity, determined to carve a path through chaos and claim her life against all odds.

Escaping my abusive marriage was only the beginning. The real battle began afterward, trying to restart life when terror still lived in every corner, every sound, every breath.

But every time my eyes met Faith’s, I knew survival was real. Even hooked up to machines, she would squeeze my finger as if to say, Don’t let go. We got this.

Somewhere between surgeries, therapy sessions, and endless nights without sleep, I learned to follow her lead. We had nothing but each other, and that turned out to be all either of us needed.

I threw myself into learning everything I could about what she needed medically, and we did it together, one fragile day at a time. Over time, other survivors began to find me. Their pain echoed mine. Their hope matched hers. That’s when I realized our story could help others find their way out of their own darkness.

That’s how A Contagious Smile began almost twenty years ago, not as a business, but as a light. A promise that if I could help even one person find their own spark again, then none of the pain would be wasted.

“Faith survived fifty surgeries before the age of eighteen, and I have had well over a hundred myself. I survived the storm that nearly took us both. Together, we are proof that miracles happen.”

The Legacy of the Phoenix

Faith is thriving now, radiant, strong, and impossible to miss. The same rooms that once echoed with beeping monitors now overflow with her laughter. Her bravery reminds me daily why I fought so hard to keep going.

We’ve turned our scars into something that matters: a global community helping survivors, families, and veterans rebuild their lives. We teach that survival isn’t the end; it’s the beginning of a brand-new story.

Faith reminds me that pain doesn’t have to destroy you; it can shape you into something unbreakable.

We both bear scars. They aren’t marks of shame anymore; they’re reminders that we are stronger and that we won. Proof that we made it, that we’re still here, and that now we’re using our wings to help others rise.

“If you’re sitting among the crumbling pieces of your past, remember: your story isn’t over. You can rise again. You can fly.”

A Contagious Smile Academy was built from the remains of our perseverance, a trauma-informed, survivor-led community offering more than a hundred free or low-cost courses for survivors, families, veterans, and caregivers.

It exists so that no one has to face recovery alone.

Visit https://acontagioussmile.mn.co/ to find support, join us, or simply know there’s a space where your story matters, exactly as it is.