Just Brave Enough

If I had to describe my life in one word it would be privileged . Not in the sense where I was born holding a silver spoon or that I didn't have to work for how far I've come, but I have been very blessed with all that I have gotten. I would even go as far to say that some things have come easily and that my path in life was seemingly paved. Regardless of how things fall into place for someone, I think that it's safe to say that everyone has a life plan, with both long-term and short-term goals. In my case, it appeared as though my map was drawn in permanent marker instead of pencil. At least it was, until someone took a giant magic eraser and sent me into a tailspin and wreaked total havoc on my Pinterest boards. I had my wedding planned at five years old. In 1997, we unfortunately lost the beautiful Princess Diana. I was a bit too young to completely understand, but what I did see was footage from her wedding to Prince Charles play over and over again on my television d

In the days that followed Flynn's birthday, I was overjoyed that I finally had the family I'd always wanted. The baby that I hoped and wished I would be blessed with was here and though he was early and we were unsure of what the future would bring, he was ours and we were so lucky to have him. Though I was once again home without my baby after my second hospital stay, I was extremely lucky to be alive and well enough to hold him again even though that meant traveling back and forth to see him. The time spent apart from my baby were the longest hours of my life. I was constantly calling and thinking about him. I sat there for as long as I physically could and whenever I could get a ride back and forth. In spite of the separation and exhaustion, I was happy. I thought it would be that simple: we had our son and I was happy. I was wrong. I wasn't prepared for the never-ending guilt that I would experience. It started in the days before Flynn was born and I still have i

After being admitted to the ICU, I was a patient for another eight days. My memory is a bit foggy, but I do remember being woken up every hour or so for neurological tests (squeezing the nurse's fingers, putting my arms out in front of me, smiling, pushing my feet, and sticking my tongue out). I didn't mind being woken up because if I had more control over it, I would have never slept. I just wanted to get up and see my baby; however, I honestly could barely stay awake. I tended to fall asleep mid-conversation without realizing. I was very medicated, partly due to my anxiety over sleeping because my original headache happened at night. It also hurt to have my eyes open because of my newfound sensitivity to light, so I would just pass out randomly without warning. Because of the vulnerability to brightness (and the fluorescent lighting throughout the hospital), I was always wearing sunglasses which made it hard to tell that I wasn't actually awake during interactions with pe