Writing a book about our NICU story had been tucked away in the back of my mind. It was a secret goal I didn’t share with anyone. I mean, if you don’t share your goals, you aren’t letting anyone down when you don’t reach them, right? Or so I thought.
Decades ago, I was published for a poem I wrote, and writing poetry got me through many challenging teenage years we all remember. But a book? Oye. What an overwhelming thought for me.
I really wish I had a magic wand that would make this a more detailed “how-to” list for us to follow:
- Have an idea
- Write about your idea
- Find a publisher
- Hire a publisher
- Hire an artist
… Etc.
… Etc.
But I must have misplaced my wand somewhere, because while most people have straight lines from points A to B, mine always seem to go sideways and zigzag. And I’m okay with that.
From the Middle of the Night to the Publisher’s Desk
“Just Breathe, Mama” came to me in the middle of the night. I kid you not. I shot out of bed like a box of spiders had been dropped on me (gross) and started writing. After about 20 minutes, I crawled back into bed and went to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I had to try to decipher what I’d written in the middle of the night on that scratch pad and turn it into what it is today. That night was over a decade ago.
I have stacks of papers—over 400 pages—of medical data from my boys when they were born and for the first 4 months of their lives. I knew I wanted to share our story because I knew we weren’t alone in the NICU journey. But man, did I feel alone most of the time! Was I supposed to share the details in a book, like the needles sticking out of my 2.5lb baby’s head when I walked into his room one day? Or about the time Liam came home with me while Lance had one last surgery, and during a visit to his brother in the middle of an ice storm, Liam started seizing? Had we been at home, I truly believe he wouldn’t be with us today. That day, I experienced a miracle. Who would want to read a whole book of those nasty, scary details? If you are a preemie family, I guarantee you had enough scary moments of your own that you didn’t need to read about mine.
The words I wrote in the middle of the night became the book that would sit in my phone for 10+ years before it saw a publisher’s desk. I tried a few times to get it published, but it was a lot of work, effort, time, and money! At that point in life, I didn’t have any of those things to spare.
One day, I met Brady Lucas, the author of Smiley’s Smile, a delightful book about educating youth on childhood cancer. He introduced me to the right people at the right time, and within a year, I held my first copy of Just Breathe, Mama in my hands. I’m forever grateful for Brady and his sweet heart!
A Promise That Turned Into a Commitment
But let’s go back to that promise I made. Maybe it was more of a commitment than a promise, really.
Every year of schooling, I start the year off with a new saying for the kids. They’ve been sayings like, “Choose your own path,” “Go where you are celebrated,” “You were made to stand out,” “Control your narrative,” and “Write your own story.” I talk regularly about working hard and making things happen for yourself without waiting for things to be handed to you by others.
Teaching My Kids to Live Their Own Story – By Writing Mine
It came time for college application essays for my boys, and one of the schools asked for an essay on a book the applicants had read during a certain period in their lives. One of the boys asked me if he could write his essay on my “book.” I responded with, “It’s not a book, bud. It’s just in my phone.” His facial response told me everything I needed to know: I needed to get this thing published. If I didn’t, all of those sayings I’ve been repeating for 12 years would mean very little. That was the day I reached out to Brady for our first meeting. How could I preach to them to shoot for the stars when I was too scared to take my own leap?
So, I did. And here we are. And still, all these years later, I’m just a mama, trying to remember to breathe.
