Veya Hope VanderBrugghen

In the midst of harsh moments at the hospital, with the overstimulating beeps, the bright lights, the door constantly in rotation with different teams coming in with updates, I’ve discovered something vital as a mom to a medically complex child.    When it all gets too much, just reaching out to stroke Veya’s forehead and to hold her hand brings a lot of comfort.  This small gesture goes beyond calming her and soothing her fears; it’s about feeling connected in a world of medical uncertainty.  Our children, dealing with challenges too complex for words, find reassurance in our touch.   It’s a promise that they are not alone as they go through tests and procedures that might feel scary to them. When I hold Veya’s hands it feels like a prayer, a quiet moment of peace amid chaos, reminding me of God’s ever-present light during challenging valley like moments.   As we take another step forward in this journey of unknowns, we do it hand in hand, strengthened by love and a deep faith in

"And the LORD will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail."   Isaiah 58:11 We did it!  We are back at Sick Kids! But what a ride it was to get here…. I went to visit with Veya last week Wednesday morning and to my surprise was told “she is moving today, this afternoon!”   So, I had to quickly clean up her room, take the artwork off her walls, empty the cupboards and bring that all back home, pack up a quick bag for myself and then circle back to Mac ready to join Veya for the ride.   Once I got back, I was told her transfer had got bumped to 8pm.   Perfect.   I went home again to enjoy a meal with the kids and say goodbyes to them and headed back to Mac.   Only to be told that her transfer got a further delay and wouldn’t happen now until midnight.   No problem, we know these things can happen and emergencies arise. I like to think