Part 1 of My Healing Journey in Real Time
I didn’t realize I was unwell—because I was busy being everything for everyone else. My healing journey didn’t begin with a diagnosis—it started with decades of burnout, pushing through pain, and not even knowing I needed healing.
Early Motherhood and the Weight of Perfection
I married young and became a mother at the age of 23. I was hands-on, deeply involved, and striving to be the perfect mom. When our first son, John, was just two weeks old, I found myself sitting in the middle of the floor crying because I couldn’t figure out how to comfort him. My husband, Tim, walked in from work and found both of us—John and me—in tears. That moment felt like a failure. But looking back, I see it now as a moment of learning, love, and letting go of perfection.
Maybe you’ve had your moment on the floor—unsure how to fix what hurts, physically or emotionally. Perhaps no one ever asked how you were doing. You know, the ask that cares and doesn’t expect the standard answer.
The First Whispers That Something Was Wrong
We rode out the storm, and by the time I was 25, our second son, James, was born. That’s when I now believe my health decline quietly began. I had put on 50 lbs when I was pregnant with John and had not lost that baby weight. When I became pregnant with James, I was afraid I would put on another 50 lbs (which I did), so I leaned heavily on liquid diet supplements like Slimfast. I didn’t know until later how bad these liquid diet supplements were for me and how many women were facing serious health crises because of their use.
Toward the end of that pregnancy, I began having intense pain. One month after James was born, I had my gallbladder removed due to a stone lodged in my pancreas. At the time, I didn’t ask too many questions. I didn’t know I could ask questions, and my focus was on healing and getting back to taking care of my family. I needed to return to being the best mom I could be.
Two years later, our daughter Laura arrived. After her birth, I was told I wouldn’t be able to have more children. I had two boys and a girl, and I felt my quiver was complete. I struggled through irregular cycles and discomfort, but I did what many women do—I ignored it and kept going. Being a mom came first.
Surprise, Surrender, and Silent Signals
Six years passed, and I injured my hand pushing down the trash in the can—severed a nerve and required surgery. Of course, they asked if I was pregnant before the procedure. I said no until a thought struck me: I hadn’t had a cycle in four months. That wasn’t unusual for me. Two home tests and a doctor’s appointment later confirmed it: I was pregnant again. I had already come to terms with the fact that our family was complete. This news shook me up. It took a few months for me to adapt to the news, but thankfully, our son, Jeremy, was born in 1998.
Throughout all these years, I kept experiencing “issues,” but no one told me they were abnormal. And I didn’t ask. I just lived with it. And live I did. Looking back, these signs pointed me deeper into my healing journey, though I didn’t have the language for it then.
Business, Busyness, and Quiet Grief
I launched my business, and with a lot of hard work, it flourished. The Y2K frenzy was real, and while the world was worried about tech, I was personally breaking down. After two months of bed rest, I lost the baby. It broke something in me I didn’t even know was fragile. Nothing prepares you for the death of a child.
The next year, Peter was born. Another difficult pregnancy. That was the last one—we knew our family was complete.
I was now a mom of five, homeschooling, working, serving in ministry, cooking, canning, sewing, organizing—and pushing through discomfort like it was just another item on my to-do list. All the while, I was silently still grieving the loss of the baby. I felt guilty for not asking more questions. Was the baby a boy or a girl? Was there more I could have done to keep it? It had to be my fault. These questions lived in my heart, unanswered, while I smiled through the busyness and bore the weight alone.
The Silence That Follows the Storm
Then came the slow unfolding of the empty nest years—children going off to college, falling in love, getting married, and settling into their own lives. One by one, the house grew quieter.
No one tells you how jarring it is to go from a full house, full schedule, and full heart to stillness. Suddenly, I was faced with myself, my health, my fears, and my marriage, not as “mom and dad,” but just as us.
The Hidden Impact of Diet and Addiction
Nutrition wasn’t a priority for me at the time. I thought we were eating healthy because I loved homemade meals and was baking fresh bread, cookies, and goodies for my family.
I had no idea what all the sugar and seed oils were doing to my body. My sweet tooth wasn’t just a craving—it was a real addiction. The more I ate, the more I wanted.
I’m embarrassed to tell you this story, but I want you to know—I truly understand. So many women carry guilty secrets about food, stress, or self-soothing habits—tucked away where no one can see. I remember a road trip to my mom’s in South Carolina. The drive from Delaware was always long—at least 13 hours. There was a Russell Stover outlet in North Carolina, and I stopped in, thinking a box of Whitman’s Assorted Chocolates would be a fun little treat for the road. But I ate the entire box before I even reached her house. I wasn’t hungry—I was soothing. That moment stuck with me. It was the first time I began to realize that my relationship with sugar wasn’t just about taste—it was about emotion, exhaustion, and escape.
Our Wake-Up Call: A Shared Turning Point
Then, in 2022, my husband had a health scare. His blood glucose levels were dangerously high and affected his heart. That shook me. I dove into research. We cleaned up our diet and ditched sugar and seed oils—but the years of poor nutrition had caught up with me.
That’s when everything shifted—and my healing journey began in earnest.
A tick bite. A fall. A sudden awareness that my body wasn’t just tired—it was pleading for help.
But this isn’t a story of suffering. It’s a story of strength.
Because I’m still here. Still learning. Still healing. And maybe… you are, too.
If no one has ever asked you how you’re taking care of yourself, let me be the first.
I used to think self-care was selfish. How wrong I was.
Your story isn’t exactly like mine. But maybe you’ve also learned to live with discomfort so long that it feels normal. Perhaps you’ve gotten so good at pushing through that you forgot to pause and ask, “What do I need?“
That’s where I found myself. And this is where my story turns.
What’s Coming Next in My Healing Journey
Next up in this series: What I’ve learned from my symptoms (and what they were trying to tell me).
If this message resonates with you, I’d love to stay connected.
My healing journey is deeply personal, but it’s also shaped how I show up professionally. I’ve experienced burnout, breakdowns, and breakthroughs. Through it all, I’ve built systems to help women like you create structure without being overwhelmed.
If you’re tired of feeling buried by endless to-do lists or struggling to balance work, family, and your well-being, you’re not alone. I’ve created a free guide to help you take control of your schedule and finally feel good about your productivity.
Click here to join 140+ busy professionals taking control of their time and simplifying their productivity—and walk this journey with me.
Want to learn more about my story and approach? ☕ See “Am I Your Cup of Tea?”
Read more about resilience and leadership: 📌 Running Your Business During a Crisis.
