When you meet three-year-old Adalyn, the first thing you notice is her brightness. She may start out shy, peeking from behind Mom or Dad, but hand her a paintbrush or a piece of chocolate and you can watch her light up. Her parents, Allison and Kristopher, say it best: Adalyn brightens every room she walks into.

It’s hard to believe that only months ago, Adalyn was fighting one of the most aggressive childhood cancers—rhabdomyosarcoma.
On May 9, 2024, Adalyn was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma after a tumor was found on her tongue. Because of its size and location, surgery wasn’t an option. Her family was thrust into a world no parent expects to navigate, and suddenly, the “normal” toddler years were replaced with medical terms, treatment plans, and an unthinkably difficult road ahead.
Adalyn’s care team at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP) moved quickly. They developed an aggressive plan using 40 weeks of VAC chemotherapy—Vincristine, Actinomycin-D, and Cyclophosphamide—followed by daily proton-beam radiation therapy. Each radiation session required general anesthesia, something Adalyn feared deeply.

Despite her young age, she remembers pieces of her journey—the stings of port access, how sick the chemotherapy made her feel, and the “tunnel” of the MRI machine. Yet she also remembers the kindness of the CHOP Oncology team and often says she misses them.
Treatment was grueling. Adalyn battled severe neutropenia, constant nausea, and frequent infections. When she contracted the flu while immunocompromised, her condition worsened quickly, requiring intervention from CHOP’s Critical Care team. There were weeks of inpatient stays, frantic emergency visits, and days when her parents had no choice but to take it one hour at a time.
At home, life revolved around medications, injections, feeding pumps, and maintaining her g-tube. Her parents kept strict infection-control routines while juggling work from home, often organizing their days around whatever medical need came next.
The hardest stretch, her parents say, was radiation month. Every morning meant waking early, driving to CHOP, and watching their daughter be put under anesthesia again and again—something no toddler should ever have to fear.

The effects of treatment went far beyond physical side effects. Isolation from other kids, combined with chronic illness, slowed Adalyn’s social development. She felt safest around adults and struggled to connect with children her own age. Her weight dropped to the 0.4th percentile, requiring continuous nutritional support to help her grow strong enough for ongoing treatment.
Chemotherapy drained her spark. Even when she wanted to play, she often didn’t have the energy. But when treatment ended, Adalyn’s joy, her curiosity, and her energy came rushing back. Today, she’s wildly active, playful, and ready to explore the world.
Adalyn is now off chemotherapy and on a three-month cycle of MRIs, X-rays, and CT scans. Because rhabdomyosarcoma is aggressive, she remains closely monitored.
Still, life today looks far more like a childhood.

She paints constantly, a talent nurtured through art therapy. She loves exploring the outdoors, collecting treasures on hikes, and creating art from what she finds. Her National Parks Passport already has multiple stamps. She adores animals, bug-hunting, and anything silly—especially the song “Potato Dog.”
Her favorite foods? Chocolate-dipped croissants. Her favorite games? Tag, which she calls “Run-Around!” Her favorite shows include Super Monsters, Gabby’s Dollhouse, and Paw Patrol.
When she grows up, she wants to be a veterinarian—and just herself, she adds proudly.

In the early days after diagnosis, when everything felt overwhelming, the family received a binder of resources from St. Baldrick’s. Those materials helped them understand the new world they were entering—and gave them a sense of footing when they needed it most.
That experience inspired them to get involved.
“If we could thank every St. Baldrick’s donor, we would tell them that their support gives families hope when it’s needed most,” Kristopher says.
Adalyn still doesn’t like talking about cancer, but she holds onto moments that made her feel cared for. She is shy, sweet, joyful, and endlessly resilient—proof that even the smallest kids can show extraordinary strength.

Her family hopes that by sharing her journey, more people will understand the importance of childhood cancer research and the lifeline that organizations like St. Baldrick’s provide. Because every child deserves a chance to grow up. And Adalyn is determined to do just that.
Be part of the hope that fuels brighter futures for kids like Adalyn.
