09/11/2026
It’s very difficult for me to put into words how I feel every September.
September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Awareness month for the disease that killed my child. The disease that took away a little girl who should be celebrating her 16th birthday this month.
How ironic.
Yesterday I had the privilege of speaking to some wonderful nurses at CW about Mackenzie’s journey and battle, and ultimately, what it’s like as your child dies and what life looks like in the aftermath.
One of the things I share every time I do this education is one of the most impactful things her medical team ever said to me. They told me they knew I was making the hardest, most impossible decisions, with the most love for Mackenzie in my mind.
That has always stayed with me.
Because if you’ve never held your screaming child down while their port was accessed…
If you’ve never kissed their head while they are in four point restraints and bolted to a radiation table, and then had to walk to the other side of the door because it’s “too dangerous”…
If you’ve never had to sign DNR papers for your child…
If you’ve never birthed your child and then carried their ashes out a door in a box…
I don’t know that you will ever really know what this month means to so many of us.
It’s awareness month, but for families like ours, it’s also memories. It’s grief. It’s birthdays that should be happening. It’s remembering everything we wish we could forget and everything we could never forget if we tried.
I hate that Mackenzie’s birthday falls during the month that reminds me of the disease that took her from me.
But I will keep talking about her. I will keep telling her story. I will keep sharing what happened to her in hopes that it helps someone else, somehow.
And I sincerely hope that one day we have the miracle that no parent has to live this.
No parent should ever have to know what this feels like.
(thank you to Kisses From Keegan &Friends for the picture 🦋🎗️)