My Story

Thirty, flirty, and …thriving?

For my 30th birthday, we held a joint birthday party for me and my daughter (who was turning one) in my parents’ backyard. In classic Mom fashion, the party was much more about her. It was decorated in “Our Pumpkin is One” theme, with hand-made decorations and, of course, a pumpkin-shaped cake to smash. One of my favorite photos from that party is a picture of me laughing, holding my daughter, with cake smeared all over both of our faces. It looks so fun and carefree.

Far from what I actually felt on the inside.

You see, when that photo was taken, I had survived pregnancy, labor, and delivery during a global pandemic, emergency surgery at six weeks post-partum (resulting in a five day hospital stay, still during a global pandemic), and severe Post-partum Depression and Anxiety. Alas, this party felt like a celebration of finally coming out of the trenches and getting back to “myself” again. I was hopeful in this photo that this was my “Phoenix rising from the ashes” moment.

And then came Year Thirty One.

Nothing could have prepared me for how quickly and rapidly things declined. How my life was turned upside down. How things spun out of control into chaos.

This blog is about sharing pieces of my story, while I put pieces of me back together.

Instead of a Phoenix rising from the ashes, I will rise as blown glass. Beautifully broken and bent to create something new.

The flames make me stronger.