From in-person coffee meetups and national speaking engagements to meaningful podcast conversations, Lemon Cake spent the past year creating spaces where caregivers and parents of medically complex children could feel seen, supported, and understood. As we reflect on what we built together, we’re looking ahead to 2026 with more gatherings, deeper connection, and continued hope—starting with coffee on January 17.

Rebuilding hope doesn’t mean ignoring heartbreak—it means learning to carry both. In Part 4 of our Lemon Cake series, we explore how real people have rebuilt their lives after profound loss, including the powerful story of Otto Frank, who preserved Anne’s diary after surviving the Holocaust. Using this lens of courage and rebuilding, we connect the dots to our disability community, where families face their own versions of loss, rerouted dreams, and hard-won resilience. This final installment offers gentle, faith-rooted encouragement for anyone learning to hope again without minimizing the weight of their story.

When someone you love is walking through adversity, knowing how to show up can feel overwhelming. In Part 3 of our Lemon Cake series, we break down three simple, meaningful ways to support caregivers and medical moms in hard seasons—showing up quietly, listening without fixing, and staying consistent long after the crisis fades. This guide offers practical, compassionate tools to help you care for the people who are carrying more than they ever expected.

Adversity changes us—but it doesn’t get the final say. In Part 2 of our Lemon Cake series, we explore three practical and hope-filled ways caregivers can grow through hardship instead of being defined by it. Learn how to find the lesson in the loss, turn your story into service, and recognize survival itself as success. If you’re a medical mom or caregiver rebuilding strength after a hard season, this short guide will help you see the resilience you’re already carrying and the purpose rising from the pain.

We don’t plan the storms, but we do get to choose how we walk through them. Adversity may not be the story we’d ever write for ourselves, yet it’s often the one that grows us the most. In this first part of How to Face Adversity Without Losing Hope, discover three powerful ways to guard your words, choose your circle, and keep showing up — even when the rain won’t stop falling.

When our daughter Kinnen was diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder, followed by autism just a few years later, it changed everything—and also, strangely, clarified everything. We were thrown into a world of G-tubes, glucose checks, and endless unknowns, but we found strength in faith, healing in community, and joy in the journey. This is our story of choosing hope over fear, resolve over resentment, and love—always love—over everything else.

Grief doesn’t always arrive in hospital rooms — sometimes, it shows up in the middle of a comedy show. In this heartfelt post, Amber shares a raw moment from parenting her medically complex son, Kai, and how unexpected waves of grief can crash into even the happiest spaces. A must-read for special needs parents navigating the emotional rollercoaster of raising a child with disabilities.

“When every door to therapy closed, I thought we were out of options. But God was leading us to a barn full of horses, hay, and healing. Four years later, equine therapy hasn’t just changed Kinnen’s life—it’s changed our family’s.”

In this post, I’m sharing how equine therapy helped break down walls for Kinnen, why it’s a powerful tool for kids with special needs (or anyone), and how it might open doors to opportunities like Special Olympics and adaptive horse shows.

If you’re near Columbus, meet the farm that gave us hope. Or find one near you—you just might discover your breakthrough in a barn.

“Will you ever have another?” It’s the question I was asked over and over after my firstborn’s diagnosis—and the one that stirred both fear and faith in my heart. This is my story of wrestling with the what-ifs, laying down control, and finding God’s peace in a decision I never thought I’d make. Maybe it will meet you in your own questions too.

The 4th of July is one of those holidays that often comes with high expectations—big gatherings, late nights, fireworks lighting up the sky, and kids running around with sticky fingers and patriotic popsicles. But for families like ours, raising children with disabilities, this holiday can look a little different. And that’s not a bad thing. If you were looking for it, this is your permission slip to say you don’t have to celebrate that way.

If we’re being honest, we both know what it feels like to fall into the “Why me?” mindset. Life is full of curveballs—some small and laughable, others life-altering and deeply painful. We’ve both lived through plenty of those moments: the chaotic, the unexpected, the heartbreaking. And while our stories look different in the details, they meet in the same raw place—the one where you’re sitting in the middle of the mess, asking Why is this happening? Why us? Why our children?

When your child receives a diagnosis, it can feel like the label starts to speak louder than their laughter. This blog is a gentle reminder that your child is not defined by acronyms, paperwork, or medical terms—they are defined by who God says they are: known, loved, and wonderfully made. If you’ve ever felt like the world sees a condition before they see your kid, this one’s for you. Let’s reclaim the narrative—one introduction, one story, one truth at a time.

What do McDonald's French fries and motherhood have in common?
More than you think. One is oddly indestructible after years wedged between car seats. The other? A mother who shows up, again and again, in the face of exhaustion, setbacks, and chaos. This post is a love letter to resilient moms—especially medical moms—who don't just survive... they endure, with grit and grace. Discover the power of reframing, micro-joys, and community, and why you're not just a fry—you’re the whole basket.

At Lemon Cake, we don't pretend it's easy—but we do believe in choosing joy anyway. This post is a real look at what it means to balance honesty and hope, especially in the world of medically complex parenting. Come read how we’re choosing the bright side, even when it’s hard.

This Memorial Day, we pause to honor not only the brave men and women who gave their lives for our freedom, but also the families who carry on—especially those raising children with disabilities. At Lemon Cake, we’re lifting up the unseen strength of military families, highlighting meaningful organizations, and inviting our community to remember with purpose.

Two moms raising medically complex kids share their journey, faith, and create a space for support, joy, and real community.