Jenna Knott Photography

I wish the weight I carried was ordinary—the small, forgettable worries that fill a normal day. I ache for inconveniences. For cluttered floors and noise and mess. For little feet racing through the house, screaming with joy. I’d give anything to hear it without pressing my palms to my ears, without wincing through the pain.

I would clean every corner of this house with gratitude. I’d pull my child close and breathe them in. I’d move my body freely. I would never take for granted the miracle of growing a healthy baby. I’d lift my face to the sky and sing as loud as I could. I’d run a marathon. I’d sweat through hot Pilates. I’d roll in cold snow and sink into a steaming hot tub—without my head pounding, without pain stealing the moment.

I long for normal. For the everyday “problems” people complain about and move past. I would welcome them all and never speak a word of complaint again. I would be endlessly grateful just to live without chronic pain.

But that isn’t my reality. And I don’t know if it ever will be.

Being a mom was never on my bucket list. I never pictured myself having kids or felt like it was something I needed to do. But marriage changed me—it healed so many of the broken parts I carried. Once I felt whole and complete with my husband, something shifted. After about three years of marriage, it just felt like the next natural step—like there had to be more to life than just staring at each other’s faces forever.

And whoa… if you’re on the fence—just do it. Motherhood has changed me in ways I never expected. I’m softer where I used to feel like I had to be strong, and the way I see the world has completely shifted. I’m better for it. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that kids are a burden and not a blessing because that’s the farthest thing from the truth.

This summer has been… not it.

I’ve had a headache for 20 days straight and life came to a screeching halt after getting slammed with a migraine that spiraled into what looks like mast cell activation syndrome (still unofficial but highly suspected).

Two+ weeks bouncing between hospitals and doctors who kept failing me, only to finally land in a functional medicine office where someone actually listened and put the pieces together in under two hours. So now I’m in the holistic healing lane (none of which insurance covers 🙃), and I’ve had to completely stop working because I can barely do more than exist most days.

This illness is invisible but it’s touched every single part of my life—being a mom, being a wife, being me. Treatments are expensive, the mental load is heavy, and the anxiety is unreal. I’d be lying if I said I’ve stayed positive through it.

For now, I’m doing the bare minimum to keep afloat. I hope to reopen bookings in October once the dust settles, but the future feels… uncertain. Luckily this isn’t a death sentence, just a massive, unexpected life shift.

I’m exhausted, but I refuse to let this define me. Here’s to kicking ass—slowly, gently, and one day at a time. I finally feel like I’m headed in the right direction toward healing, so send up a prayer and cross your fingers with me. 🤞✨