MPD is not a sentence – the story of a mother who trusted the process

Cerebral palsy (CP) is a diagnosis that sounds like the end of life as they know it to many families. In reality, it can be the beginning of a long, difficult, but meaningful journey—provided there is adequate support, a treatment plan, and care for the whole family. This article accompanies an episode of the Medical Talks podcast, in which Maria Olkhovyk, mother of four-year-old Mark, talks about emigration, therapy, mental crisis, and rebuilding her life in a new country.

In this article, we discuss, among other things:

• What is cerebral palsy and what is life like with this diagnosis?

• Why comprehensive, coordinated medical care is crucial

• how important psychological support is for parents of children with cerebral palsy

• what everyday therapy and rehabilitation for a child looks like

• Why MPD does not have to mean a lack of independence and future prospects

MPD, prematurity, and initial decisions

Marek was born extremely premature, in the sixth month of pregnancy, with a very low birth weight. He was diagnosed with cerebral palsy early on and required intensive rehabilitation from the outset. As his mother emphasizes, the first months after birth were the most difficult—the joy of the baby's birth collided with fear, guilt, and a lack of clear answers about "what next."

Parents of children with cerebral palsy are often left alone with the responsibility of making therapeutic decisions. The internet, discussion groups, and conflicting recommendations can increase chaos and stress. The conversation makes it clear: it is crucial to take this burden off the parents' shoulders and entrust it to a team of specialists who treat the child according to proven international protocols.

Comprehensive care and a plan for years to come

At the Paley European Institute, the treatment of children with MPD is based on an integrated neuro-orthopedic care model. This means ongoing collaboration between orthopedists, neurologists, physical therapists, psychologists, and other specialists who work together to plan the child's therapy—not for a few weeks, but for years.

For Maria, it was extremely valuable that her son's physiotherapist not only conducted rehabilitation, but also helped her understand the entire treatment process, the subsequent stages, imaging tests, consultations, and realistic goals. Thanks to this, Marek—despite his severe, bilateral form of cerebral palsy—now moves around with the help of walkers and is steadily increasing his independence. The goal is one: maximum independence in the future.

The mental health of the parent is part of the child's therapy.

One of the strongest themes of the conversation is the mental health of parents of children with disabilities. Maria speaks openly about depression, thoughts of giving up, and the moment when she realized that without professional help, she would not be able to function anymore—neither as a mother nor as a person.

Psychotherapy and psychiatric support proved to be a turning point. They did not take away her strength, but rebuilt it. As she emphasizes, a child with MPD needs not only exercises and equipment, but above all a stable, emotionally present parent. Taking care of yourself is not selfish—it is part of the treatment.

Life goes on

Maria's story is also one of professional and personal rebuilding. After arriving in Poland, in the shadow of war and her son's therapy, she returned to entrepreneurship, developing a business from scratch in a new country. This proves that a child's diagnosis does not have to mean giving up on one's dreams, femininity, and ambitions.

MPD is not a sentence. It is a challenge that requires time, teamwork, and enormous empathy—including toward ourselves. This conversation reminds us that even in the most difficult moments, it is possible to regain a sense of agency, meaning, and hope.