A Place to Decompress
Hospital life can start to feel incredibly small. The same clinical hallways, the beeping monitors, the constant worry and very little space to breathe. For our family, Ronald McDonald House and the McMaster Children's Hospital Family Room weren't just amenities—they became a lifeline.
When Olivia was admitted, the exhaustion wasn’t just mental; it was physical. Having access to a real bed, a hot bath, and a quiet space to simply breathe made the difference between breaking and bending. These spaces allowed us to decompress, moving away from the beeps of the monitors for just enough time to recharge so we could go back and be the advocates Olivia needed us to be.
The 'Divide and Conquer' Strategy
Managing a medical crisis is hard enough; managing it with two toddlers is a whole different level of logistics. Corey and I often had to "divide and conquer." While one of us stayed with Olivia at the hospital, the other would take Caleb (then 4) and Liam (then 2) to the RMH playrooms, games rooms, and movie rooms.
These spaces allowed our boys to still be kids—to play, laugh and move—while keeping them physically close to their sister. It gave our family a little bit of normal in a situation that felt anything but normal.
The Bracelet and the Brave First Day
There is one memory that still catches in my throat. It was Caleb’s very first day of Kindergarten. Most parents are worried about backpacks and lunchboxes, but we were just recovering from Olivia’s G-tube surgery.
I remember watching him walk into that playground, looking so small yet so incredibly brave. On his wrist, he wore his orange Ronald McDonald House bracelet—something so innocent that he didn’t know any better. A part of me still feels that ‘Mom guilt’ when I look at his first day of school picture. Guilt that when he came home he didn’t tell me about his day, any friends he made or how fun it was to be at a big school. Guilt that he first asked “how’s Olivia and is she coming home soon?” Guilt that only one of us could be there at drop off because the other parent was at the hospital. Guilt that after school, he came right back to Ronald McDonald House for dinner and sleep instead of staying at the playground with his new friends.Guilt that as parents we were so exhausted that I felt a relief knowing that Caleb was at school and I had one less kid to entertain during the day. He was starting his big kid journey while his little sister was fighting hers.
That house was the bridge that held us all together.
Behind the scenes
Beyond the emotional support, there was also the practical side of hospital life that no one really prepares you for. Parking, gas, cafeteria meals and time away from work add up quickly.
Having access to coffee, snacks and meals prepared by volunteers meant one less thing to think about when our brains were already at capacity. A clean room, laundry facilities, somewhere quiet for me to pump, outdoor space to breathe and places to keep the boys entertained may sound like small things. At the time, they felt enormous.
And then there were the people. Staff and volunteers who checked whether we had what we needed, reminded us what was available and somehow made a place we never wanted to need feel a little more like home.
These supports aren't “extras.” They're part of caring for a family in crisis.
Healing doesn't only happen in a hospital bed. Sometimes it happens over a warm meal, during ten quiet minutes with a cup of coffee, while your other children are laughing in a playroom—or simply because someone has given you a safe place to sleep.
We have stayed at Ronald McDonald House more than once over the years, and I don't think I'll ever be able to fully explain what those spaces gave our family. They didn't change why we were at the hospital. They didn't make Olivia better or take away the fear.
They simply made it possible for us to keep being a family while we were there.
And sometimes, in the middle of the hardest seasons, that's exactly what a family needs.
Here the full story on Episode 4 - Ronald McDonald House: The House that Kept us Together
