November, 9,2025

When Motherhood Became My Mountain and My Healing.

We grow up imagining the “one day” moments—one day becoming someone, caring for someone, living with purpose.

For me, that moment arrived through motherhood. I already had a two-year-old daughter when her sister, Juliette came into our lives and changed everything.

Pregnancy felt normal at first, until one appointment shifted our world. After further testing, I was told at 27 weeks that Juliette would have special needs. Fear replaced expectation. New specialists, new terms, new worries. I had to deliver at UCLA, far from home, at the height of the pandemic. We relocated, income changed, and survival became a daily mindset.

Juliette was born brave. She underwent two major surgeries within just a few days being born, one lof them lasting nearly eight hours. I prayed harder than I ever had. I felt helpless, but also chosen. Nothing about our life stayed the same.

The years that followed were filled with appointments, therapies, medical drives, and constant monitoring. Doctors warned she might never walk, that delays would be long-term, that her health could remain unpredictable. There were wheelchairs, walkers, AFO’s neurological complications, and days where exhaustion felt heavier than hope, and it still does.

But we stayed consistent. We chose love over fear, presence over panic, and commitment over comfort.

Today, five years later, Juliette is still my miracle.

She walks with braces.

Uses her walker when needed.

Rejects her wheelchair unless absolutely required in long distances.

She is strong-willed, determined, and endlessly brave.

Her body still requires care and watching—but she has surpassed every limit spoken over her. She didn’t just change my life; she expanded it. She made me stronger, more grounded, and more present than I ever thought possible. She taught me to prioritize family, to slow down,to advocate and to love with endurance.

ALL CAREGIVERS, I SEE YOU, 

You Are Not Alone

If you are caring for someone—anyone—you matter.

To the mother juggling therapies and paperwork.

To the father balancing work and hospital visits.

To the sibling helping raise a brother or sister with special needs.

To the adult child caring for aging parents.

To the grandparent filling in, loving without hesitation.

To the caregiver who didn’t choose this path, but chose love anyway—

You are not alone.

Reach out when it feels heavy.

Ask for help without apology.

Share your story so another heart can breathe a little easier.

Caregiving isn’t just duty—it’s devotion.

It’s courage in motion.

And it is never meant to walked alone.