You are their haven. Their harbor. Their sanctuary, their peace. You are comfort. Deep breaths. Hugs and back rubs. You're a resting place, a nightmare chaser, a healer. You are the calm within their storm. You are their mother.
My responsibility is to my children, first and beyond everything else. It is my job to help them stand up for themselves, and to stand up for them when they can't.
"Working from home, homeschooling a five-year old who didn’t understand the idea of not leaving the house or seeing other siblings, and coping with the daily changes of pregnancy was beginning to make me feel anxious."
"My baby should be in a park under the sun, on the swings, walking on grass, befriending other kids, but instead, he is at home all day every day, pacing from one room to the other, playing with the same toys each day, seeing no new faces apart from his parents."
"No one told me I could change my clothes. No one told me I could bathe. I needed a caregiver. I needed an advocate. I needed someone to take care of me."
“PTSD?” I asked. “Yes, from childhood trauma. You may think you’ve only been dealing with PPD but this is just a little tip of the iceberg. I’m glad you came in today.”
"Mama bears, I know some of you have walked a similar road or are walking it now. I send you love and give you permission to turn that radio up a little louder."
