Over Christmas break, Kay, Maeve, and I had the chance to do something that has been sitting on my heart for a while—we donated 50 Type One Diabetes Barbies to the local children’s hospital where Kay stayed during her own Type 1 diagnosis.
When I first started this toy drive back in November, I truly had no idea how it would turn out. If I’m being honest, I would have been thrilled to collect 20 Barbies. The fact that we reached 50 still feels a little unreal. It’s such a powerful reminder of what can happen when a community shows up in ways big and small.
Of course, it wouldn’t be one of my projects without a little hiccup along the way. After accidentally contacting the wrong hospital in a completely different state (oops), I was finally able to connect with our local hospital and coordinate the drop-off. Once everything was set, it felt incredibly full-circle to walk back into a place that holds so many intense memories for us—this time carrying something meant to bring comfort and hope.
The hospital staff was incredibly grateful and even took photos of the Barbies, which they plan to share. I can’t wait to see them. I keep thinking back to Kay’s hospital stay and how much it meant to her to receive Rufus the bear. That small gesture brought her so much comfort during a scary and confusing time. My hope is that these T1D Barbies can do the same for other kids—offering a sense of familiarity, representation, and reassurance when everything else feels overwhelming.
Each Barbie also included a special note attached to the back, because sometimes it’s not just the toy that matters—it’s the message behind it. A reminder that you’re not alone, that others have walked this path before you, and that there is a whole community ready to support you.
One moment that truly touched me was when the hospital shared that they would pass my information along to families who are newly navigating a Type 1 diagnosis and looking for immediate support or community. I am more than happy—and deeply honored—to be there for anyone who needs it. I know firsthand how isolating and unknown those early days can feel.
I owe so much to the Type 1 Diabetes community. The connections I’ve made, both near and far, have been a lifeline—people who understand the highs, the lows, and everything in between. Being part of the Juicebox Podcast community and listening to families bravely share their stories has helped me feel seen, understood, and less alone. So many of their experiences mirror pieces of our own, and that shared understanding matters more than I can put into words.
This toy drive wasn’t just about Barbies. It was about turning something hard into something hopeful. It was about honoring where we’ve been, supporting families who are just beginning their journey, and reminding them—and myself—that even in the hardest seasons, there is still kindness, connection, and light.