Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of becoming a mom. I thought I had mastered parenting, practicing on my  Baby Alive doll. I had no idea how much I didn’t know which, honestly, was the first real lesson of motherhood.

 

When my husband and I learned we were expecting our first child, it felt like my dream was finally coming true. Pregnant Cara was one of those annoying women who loved being pregnant. I did yoga, prenatal massages, ate the recommended foods, took the supplements, even tried hypnotherapy. My midwife even called me a model patient—a title the former perfectionist in me relished in.

 

Jacob’s birth was far from the picture perfect experience I had imagined.

 

Overnight, I went from a mom-to-be living inside a fantasy bubble to feeling like an imposture, in shock—trying to learn a new language filled with medical terms, acronyms, and a brand new feeling of uncertainty.

 

I felt completely out of a control, a feeling that the natural problem solver in me couldn’t accept. While sitting in NICU in a freezing-cold closet that had been converted into a pumping room, I quietly made myself a promise: Someday, I would create the kind of space I desperately needed in that moment. A place where people facing an unexpected diagnosis or an unfamiliar path could find reliable information without feeling overwhelmed. A place to ask questions, discover support, hear honest stories, and be reminded that they are not alone.

 

I certainly don’t have all the answers. But I know what it feels like to have your life change in a matter of moments—and how much it matters to find people able to show up for you. 

 

My NICU promise is my gift to you, The Path We Share.

 

I’m so glad you found your way here.

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