LDL. Baby Steps, Big Victories: Jude’s Family Shares an Emotional Overnight Update as He Keeps Fighting

Jude’s loved ones say they’re learning something new in this season—recovery doesn’t always come in dramatic leaps. Sometimes it comes in quiet, measured progress that only a family living it can fully understand.

In their most recent update, Jude’s family shared that “baby steps” are exactly what he needs right now, and that mindset has become their anchor as they watch him move forward—one careful adjustment, one stable moment, one breath at a time.

A Small Change That Means a Lot

One of the biggest pieces of encouraging news from the day came with Jude’s breathing support.

The family shared that his medical team was able to turn down his non-invasive ventilation settings a bit—an adjustment that may look small on paper, but can mean a great deal when a child’s lungs are healing. In a journey where progress can feel painfully slow, even a slight decrease in support can feel like a sign that his body is beginning to carry more of the load again.

But the update also reminded supporters of a reality families often face during serious recoveries: progress isn’t linear.

“He Let Us Know He Wasn’t Ready Yet”

Alongside the good news, Jude’s family shared that they attempted to reduce his continuous albuterol, and Jude made it clear he wasn’t ready for that step yet.

There was no frustration in the way they described it—only acceptance and patience. In the middle of so much uncertainty, families learn to listen closely to what a child’s body is communicating. Sometimes the most loving choice is to pause, to hold steady, and to let the healing happen on its own timeline.

A Frightening Moment: Another Bigger Seizure

Later in the night, Jude faced another difficult hurdle.

The family shared that he had one of his bigger seizures earlier that evening. The fear in moments like that is hard to put into words—because even if you’ve seen it before, it never feels routine. Every second stretches. Every breath is held. Every parent’s heart races toward the same prayer: Please stop. Please be okay.

Thankfully, they reported that the seizure ended at just under five minutes, and they did not need to administer rescue medication. That detail brought relief—but it didn’t erase the emotional weight of what the moment likely felt like.

As an added precaution, the family shared that they now have IV rescue medication at bedside, ready if it’s needed. It’s one of those quiet preparations that speaks volumes: the medical team is watching closely, the family is staying alert, and everyone is doing everything they can to keep Jude safe.

What the Family Is Asking For Now

In the same message, Jude’s loved ones asked supporters to pray with them—not only for improvement, but for stability.

They specifically asked for prayers for:

• No more seizures
• Continued healing in Jude’s lungs and his entire body
• A restful night
• More steps forward

It’s the kind of prayer list that reflects both hope and realism. They are grateful for progress, but they also know how fragile recovery can be. They’re not asking for perfection—just another calm night, another forward step, another reason to exhale.

The Moment That Softened the Day

And then, in the middle of all the heaviness, they shared a small moment of sweetness—one of those details that can make a hospital day feel a little more human.

Jude’s nurse gave him a “spa day,” complete with a teddy bear ponytail, turning him into their beloved “Juju Bear” all over again.

It’s a simple image, but it carries so much meaning: care that goes beyond medicine, tenderness that reminds a child they are still a child, and a nurse who understands that comfort is part of healing too.

Because sometimes in a hospital room, the smallest acts—fixing hair, adding a bow, making a child feel seen—become a kind of quiet medicine for the whole family.

Holding On to Baby Steps

Jude’s family ended their update the way so many families in this situation do—with love, gratitude, and a deep appreciation for the community standing beside them.

They are learning to celebrate the small wins: a slight decrease in breathing support, a seizure that stopped before rescue meds were needed, another day survived, another night approached with hope.

Right now, “baby steps” isn’t a consolation.

It’s the plan.

And for Jude’s family, each baby step is a reminder that he’s still here—still fighting, still surrounded by care, and still carried by prayers that refuse to stop.