Dear Diary... I'm back.

Last year was... wasted. My ideas, projects and to-do lists were mostly collecting dust. Since I did not accomplish nearly as much as I wanted and planned, I often grappled with guilt, feeling like the year slipped away.

But... was it; did it really?

In 2023, Emanuela turned 5. We hosted a birthday party and invited a bunch of her friends and their parents - this was a first for us. The first years of her life made it impossible to do so. Firstly, we kept her as far away from everyone as possible to avoid infection by viruses, bacteria and everything in between that little kids carry along. At the age of three and a half, she had her Fontan surgery. That was a breaking point for us. We had decided long ago that her third, and the last planned open heart surgery, would be a moment when we lift the glass bell of our protection. She started kindergarten, and a life in a covid-locked world. Birthday parties (and everything else) were again a no-go. So, when she celebrated turning 5, it was a big deal. We celebrated her. We celebrated life. And we celebrated us, parents, for getting her to that point.

We traveled more. With Emanuela's little sister turning 2, we even got moments where we could cautiously admit (not to jinx it) we started to relax again. Everyone became a little bit more independent. At the same time, we made sure to prioritize time with kids and be present for them. The whole year actually seems to have been a lot about family and friends.

Now that we're sailing to the calmer waters of Emanuela's health needs, I've spent some time reflecting, looking for myself, and trying to figure out what's next. I started therapy. Not so much out of necessity, but more as an attempt to learn from it. To find ways to stay calm while writing. To manage the feelings that rush while sorting the memories. To not get lost in thoughts. To cope with anxiety that rises while going through hundreds of pictures of my baby daughter tubed, wired, drugged, cut... looking for the picture to post. (As it turns out, those are exactly the reasons that make therapy an essential part of this process.)

As I took my place on that couch (it's actually a chair, but I'll take some creative freedom)... As I started working on myself... I stopped writing.

I feel insecure opening up. I am unsure of where this is going. But deep down, I'm certain there is a mom that needs to hear this story. Just as much as I needed it.

So... the year 2023 for sure laid a great foundation to build a new one on. And in retrospect, it was exactly what I needed.

Here's to hoping 2024 unfolds into everything I want.

P.S. Consider this my commitment to writing more. Feel free to hold me accountable.