Motherhood Edit
Welcome to Motherhood Edit—a quiet space for refining the rhythms of parenting with grace, intention, and resilience. Here, you’ll find curated routines, wellness reflections, and gentle edits that honor both the chaos and the beauty of raising children. It’s motherhood, softened and shaped to fit the life you’re growing.
Learning to Live in Limbo
Waiting has become its own season in my life. I thought today would bring clarity, but instead I walked out of the doctor’s office with more uncertainty—“atypia of undetermined significance.” Not benign, not malignant, just somewhere in between.
So I wait. Six more weeks of limbo. Six more weeks of waking up with the same unanswered question echoing in my chest.
It’s exhausting, but I’ve learned to anchor myself in small rituals: moving my body to build strength, nourishing myself with whole foods, listening to my children’s laughter, showing up for work. These rhythms don’t erase the stress, but they help me carry it.
Christmas will come whether I have answers or not. I’ll bake cookies, wrap gifts, and light the tree, even if my own heart feels heavy. Pretending isn’t denial—it’s protection. My children deserve joy, not worry.
Limbo is uncomfortable, but it’s clarifying. It reminds me that even when the future feels uncertain, the present is still here.
65 Days in Limbo
Sixty-five days. That’s how long I’ve been waiting. Not for something exciting. Not for something planned. For answers. For clarity. For the kind of news that can change everything.
This isn’t my first time waiting for cancer results. It’s my second in less than a year. And while the tests are different, the ache is the same.
I’m still packing lunches. Still wiping noses. Still whispering “We’re okay” at bedtime. But inside, I’m unraveling.
This year has burned through so much—my peace, my plans, my sense of safety. And yet, somehow, I’m still here.
Still rising. Still planting seeds in the ash. Still believing that maybe—just maybe—the wildflowers are already on their way.