When my son was unwell, I lost myself. I stopped sleeping. I stopped moving my body. I stopped even knowing how to find joy. In the rare moments when he finally fell asleep, I sure as heck didn't sleep. I researched. Because I could feel him slipping further away from me and I was desperate to heal him. Somewhere along the way, I stopped breathing. I stopped knowing how to connect with my daughter, with Ty, with my own body. I was holding my breath just trying to keep us all afloat. And I kno...
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When my son was unwell, I lost myself. I stopped sleeping. I stopped moving my body. I stopped even knowing how to find joy. In the rare moments when he finally fell asleep, I sure as heck didn't sleep. I researched. Because I could feel him slipping further away from me and I was desperate to heal him. Somewhere along the way, I stopped breathing. I stopped knowing how to connect with my daughter, with Ty, with my own body. I was holding my breath just trying to keep us all afloat. And I kno...
I remember standing at the pharmacy, holding a prescription for steroid cream in my shaking hand. My baby was in his car seat at my feet, his tiny body curled under a blanket, with an oozing rash covering his whole body. He had those little cotton mittens on - the ones I used to keep him from scratching himself raw - but even through the fabric, he had clawed at his skin so badly that streaks of blood ran down his face. He was screaming. And I was sobbing into the phone with my husband. The p...
Follow Your Gut Podcast
When my son was unwell, I lost myself. I stopped sleeping. I stopped moving my body. I stopped even knowing how to find joy. In the rare moments when he finally fell asleep, I sure as heck didn't sleep. I researched. Because I could feel him slipping further away from me and I was desperate to heal him. Somewhere along the way, I stopped breathing. I stopped knowing how to connect with my daughter, with Ty, with my own body. I was holding my breath just trying to keep us all afloat. And I kno...
