Every child deserves to see themselves in the bear they love.

My daughter Josephine has spent her life looking a little different from most of the children around her. She has a tracheostomy that helps her breathe. She has used a G-tube for nutrition. These aren't costumes or medical props. They're simply part of her body and part of her story.

When Josephine was still in the NICU, our family received an incredible gift from a nonprofit called Tubie Bears. They took ordinary stuffed bears and added medical devices like trachs and G-tubes, then gifted them to medically complex children and their families.

Ours became Josie Bear.

Before Josephine ever came home from the hospital, Josie Bear helped her older siblings understand the tubes and medical equipment their baby sister would be coming home with. They could see them. Touch them. Ask questions. Get comfortable with something that otherwise might have felt scary.

And Josie Bear went everywhere with us.

Years later, we were fortunate enough to receive one of the final bears made by Tubie Bears before the nonprofit shut down. This time, we donated the bear to Josephine's kindergarten classroom.

Her classmates could touch the bear's trach and G-tube. They could ask questions and learn how they worked without anyone worrying that they might accidentally hurt Josephine.

But my favorite part? It gave Josephine a way to talk about herself.

Instead of her medical equipment being something strange that other children were afraid to ask about, she could show them. Explain it. Talk about what made her different—and what made her special. That little bear turned something unfamiliar into something kids could understand.

Unfortunately, Tubie Bears is no longer operating. But the children who need bears like these are still here.

That's why I'm asking Build-A-Bear Workshop to pick up where they left off.

Imagine a child walking into Build-A-Bear and, alongside choosing their bear's clothes, shoes, glasses and accessories, being able to choose a tracheostomy, G-tube, hearing aid, cochlear implant, wheelchair, walker, braces, prosthetic limb, or other disability and medical accessories that reflect their own life.
Imagine a child preparing for a new medical device being able to put one on their bear first.
Imagine a hospital Child Life specialist using one to help a frightened child understand what's about to happen.
Imagine a classroom using one to teach children about their classmate.
Imagine a sibling getting comfortable with their baby brother or sister's medical equipment before they ever come home from the hospital.

And imagine a child like Josephine walking into Build-A-Bear and realizing:

That bear can look like me.

Build-A-Bear has always understood that stuffed animals are more than toys. Children name them, dress them, celebrate birthdays with them, sleep beside them, bring them to appointments and carry them through some of the hardest moments of childhood.

For medically complex and disabled children, that makes representation especially powerful.

We're asking Build-A-Bear Workshop to explore creating an inclusive collection of bears, clothing and accessories representing children with disabilities and medical needs—and to consult with families, medical professionals and disability advocates to make those options thoughtful and accurate.

This isn't about turning medical equipment into a novelty. It's about making sure the children who use that equipment aren't treated like one either.

There are thousands of children like Josephine who spend their lives adapting to a world that wasn't necessarily designed with them in mind. For once, let's make something that was.

Please sign this petition asking Build-A-Bear Workshop to help make the Build-A-Bear experience truly inclusive for medically complex and disabled children.

And if you know a family who has ever wished their child's doll, stuffed animal or toy looked a little more like them, please share this petition with them.

Every kid deserves a bear who looks like their kind of normal.