AB Coached

Mother’s Day is beautiful and complicated and everything in between. Whatever this day holds for you, I see you 🤍🦋

Sitting in this chair for the second time and I had a moment. I told my nurse something I hadn’t really said out loud before…that I’ve had iron issues and anemia for the last 20 years. 20 years. And I never once thought to look into infusions. I didn’t even know they were an option.

When I shared my iron results with a trusted group of women, they gasped (ferritin was at a 6)…so, I took their responses seriously. I took my Function Health blood panel results, walked into my primary care appointment and asked for a referral. She had never heard of Function, but asked me to upload my results to the portal, and I did!

Here’s what I keep thinking about -

How many of us are living with something we’ve normalized? Something we’ve been quietly managing with supplements, willpower, or just pushing through?

I already feel the difference in my energy. And I genuinely cannot believe I’m about to feel like myself again!

Your body is always telling you something. The question is whether you have the information … and the community, to listen. I can’t even tell you how many times women helped other women in our IVF group when it came to advocacy and research.

If something feels off, ask. Get labs. Talk to your people. Advocate for yourself the way you would for someone you love. That’s not extra. That’s necessary 🦋

New Year’s Day morning, David’s phone rang.
His dad, Peter, was gone.

A charming, funny, sarcastic, cheeky Irishman who lived life entirely on his own terms. He didn’t care what other people thought. He was kind to me from the moment we met. He was, in the truest sense, a free man.

David loved him deeply. And this loss has been profound.

That’s where I’ve been these past eight days.

I couldn’t bring myself to post “Happy New Year.” I just didn’t have it in me. We booked flights to Dublin immediately. Canceled my work week. Moved into this mode of pure presence - for David, for the family, for what needed to happen. The funeral. The family. The impossible task of showing up when your heart is breaking.

And here’s what I learned in those tender, heavy days:
If you’re the partner holding space through grief - give yourself permission to feel it too.

I crashed when we got to Ireland. Skipped an evening. Took a morning for myself. We held each other through it.

Take the time you need. Acknowledge that this is affecting you too. You’re holding the container of your relationship, the logistics of life, and your own processing all at once. We can’t do this alone.

Rest easy, Peter. You were loved. You are missed. 🤍

The last picture here is the whole clan apart from Nick and Fi and the kids, and some of my beautiful family is cut off with this carousel I can’t shrink it but you know I love you.