I see tired eyes. Hair that hadn’t been washed in a week. Nails that needed cutting. A chin so swollen from injury to it that I could not do a full smile. I was so weak that I could hardly hold my phone up. I had taken the case off in hopes it would be lighter without it. I typed those words with shaky fingers. When I snapped that selfie I was afraid I might drop the phone on my face. There wasn’t a retake. No playing with angles to find the most flattering look. No editing. It still bothers me that it says highlight “real” instead of “reel” One snap. I posted before I could change my mind. I had been reading all of the sweet messages people had been sending me. I didn’t have the energy or the strength to respond to everyone directly at that point but I wanted you all to know I had survived.
I look at this photo with mixed emotions. That girl was grateful to be alive. Exhausted. In pain. Confused. But hopeful. So hopeful. I couldn’t have known what the next year would hold. I could not have imagined the struggles we would face. The strength it would take- physically, yes, but much more mentally.
I thought about The Masters. I told Marc if he wanted to go we would handle it. I love that I married a man who could never leave us. And now we’re here. So much media. So many stories. So many memories. It’s hard to relive it over and over again. But the support is incredible. We’re making new memories. Beautiful ones. People are learning not just about our little family but about much bigger things. About Toxic Shock, Sepsis and ARDS. About the Begin Again Foundation and our passion to help people and raise awareness. I’m an introvert. The interviews tire me but it’s worth it. Our story might prevent another family from having to endure the way we have. I’ll do every interview. Answer every question.