When Everything Changed
A mother’s story of love, uncertainty and how ellenor helped her family find calm again.
You never think it will be your child. One day you’re talking about school shoes and birthday parties; the next, you’re sitting in a hospital room, trying to make sense of words that shouldn’t belong to childhood.
Our daughter was seven, still in primary school, still full of questions. When the words life-limiting condition first appeared in conversation, everything else stopped. The world became smaller: a blur of hospital corridors, machines, and quiet conversations we weren’t ready to have.
It felt as though our family’s snow globe had been shaken — everything familiar swirling in uncertainty.
A few months later, the hospital team told us about ellenor, a hospice that could work alongside them to help us at home. The doctors would still manage her treatment, but ellenor could make everything feel a little more human. It meant her care could continue, but at home – surrounded by warmth, comfort, and a team who slowly became part of our family.
From the first visit, we felt something lift. The nurse was calm and unhurried. She asked about our daughter’s favourite book before she checked her medication. She noticed the drawings on the fridge, the sibling standing quietly in the doorway. She saw us not as a diagnosis, but as a family.
Some days, the visits brought relief: an adjustment that eased her pain, advice that made a sleepless night a little easier. Other days, they brought calm – a hand on a shoulder, a quiet word, the steady presence of someone who knew what to do.
Life didn’t suddenly become easy, but it became bearable. We realised hospice care is about helping families live well – with support, comfort, and understanding every step of the way.
For our daughter, it meant being at home, surrounded by her toys, her music, and the people who made her feel safe.
ellenor’s children’s team became part of our family’s rhythm — not just for our daughter, but for all of us. They helped us breathe again, laugh again, and find small moments of joy in days that used to feel impossible.
At Christmas, when the world outside glitters with lights and carols, I think of our home, yes, it’s quieter, gentler but still filled with love. The snow still swirls, but ellenor helps the worry settle – enough for us to breathe again.
If you know a family caring for a seriously ill child, please tell them about ellenor. They don’t have to face it alone. www.ellenor.org/snowglobe
