As my tiny toddler frame lay on the hospital bed, my mother stood nearby, heart pounding with fear. She often recounts the memory in vivid detail—the sterile room, cold medical instruments, and the machines beeping in rhythm with my shallow breaths. I was in a coma, unresponsive.

December 2023. In the dark depths of winter, my light almost went out. It was on its very last flicker. I was in shock, depressed, overwhelmed, underwater. I felt alone, helpless, hopeless. We had a plan. Yes we were divorced, and that obviously required a good deal of acclimating and adjusting. A lot of uncomfortable becoming. But this, this wasn't part of the plan.