“His birthday is coming, and my whole body feels it. People think grief fades with time, but these days—birthdays, anniversaries—they hit just as hard. I should be planning a party. Instead, I’m learning how to survive another year without him.”

“Self-care sounds great until you realize there’s no one else to watch your kid. When you’re a full-time caregiver, even basic things—like rest, a walk, or five minutes alone—feel impossible. But if I don’t take care of myself, I can’t show up for my family. That’s not selfish. That’s survival.”

After Kelsey died, I blamed myself. I replayed every decision, every appointment, every moment. I thought I was prepared to fight for her—I wasn’t prepared to lose her. Grief didn’t just touch my life, it unraveled it. And for a long time, I didn’t know how I’d ever come back from that. This is the part of motherhood no one talks about.