A Gift for Mom! 🤍
1. Tell me a little about yourself.
Hey Little Fighter is a blog for special needs parents run by two ordinary moms… with a not so ordinary life! Michelle and Carla are moms to two special little kids. Michelle’s son, Caleb, was 10 weeks premature and has spent a large part of his life hospitalized, undergoing procedures and under surgical care in the nation’s top hospitals. Carla’s daughter, Lyla, was born healthy and beautiful. At 15 months old, she was diagnosed with stage III neuroblastoma. Her treatment was intense and culminated in a critical surgery to remove a tumor wrapped around her spine in Mayo Clinic. Our attitude towards life is what we put forth in our blog, a positive mindset in the face of difficulty.
When did you start blogging and why?
Hey Little Fighter came to be in March of this year. Our inspiration for it was based on our need to create a space for parents who need guidance, support and resources through the difficult journey of the hospital life, no matter the diagnosis.
3. What are some of your favorite sites on the ‘net?
Aside from the positive and uplifting articles we read on Her View From Home, we love reading articles on The Mighty, the Thriving blog at Boston Children’s Hospital’s website and Humans of New York.
4. What does a typical day look like for you?
Both us mamas are stay at home working moms. Carla is expecting her second baby and raising a busy, strong willed and beautiful 3-year-old girl. Michelle is home schooling her 5-year-old tubie. We both spend our days dedicated to watching our children grow, running our home (or having it run us) at doctor’s appointments, and our writing. Oh yeah, we talk to each other on the phone. A lot.
5. What advice do you have for someone who wants to blog or share her/his story?
We believe you have something worth saying. If you believe it too, nothing should stop you. Stories we read online have the impact to change our attitude, turn our day around and help us make the best out of not so good situations. So our advice is, share your story in a way that will help others, radiate a positive attitude. Many people will not only learn something, but grow, all thanks to your view on life.
6. What story are you most proud of?
We are most proud of two pieces we wrote that poured from our hearts. The first is an open letter to our children’s surgeon. It says it all.
The second is a piece written for parents going through a seemingly invisible diagnosis with their child. Our struggle is often left unseen to the world, and special needs parents should know, we are here to help support their journey.
7. How can people follow you?
There’s a kind of exhaustion that’s impossible to translate. Not the “I stayed up too late” tired. Not even the newborn, up-every-two-hours kind of tired. It’s something heavier. The kind that settles deep into your bones and makes even the simplest task feel like you’re pushing against gravity. Living with Sjögren’s syndrome and discoid lupus while raising young kids means carrying a weight no one else can see, and one that’s almost impossible to understand unless you’ve lived it yourself. The closest comparison I’ve ever found is the first trimester of pregnancy. That overwhelming, all-consuming fatigue where your body feels...
There’s something I love about summers with the kids, more than any other time of the year. It’s not my favorite season, not even close. But I will always look back on the summers spent with our kids as some of the most beautiful, joyful, yet simple memories of our life together. And that’s just it—it’s the simplicity of summer that makes it so magical. It’s the weightlessness of “nowhere to be,” and the way the kids settle into a routine that’s not a routine at all. I love watching them run through the yard, popsicle in hand, red strawberry...
The calendar tells me that almost three months ago today, my husband and I resigned from our joint position as house parents in a residential foster care ministry. Three months of no income. Three months of moving to a new state, navigating new doctors, two brand new schools for our daughters, and a smaller living space. Three months of looking at each other and knowing how hard it is to wait for a paycheck. One day, I dared to check the bank account, and my body quivered when I saw the balance. We had savings, but I am pretty sure...
I remember hearing as a child that not all friendships last forever. Back then, I didn’t believe it. Not my friendships. We had grown up together—through elementary school, through high school. We were inseparable. Plans were made around each other, and life felt like it would always look that way. But life has a way of changing things. I became a young mom, trying to figure out who I was while also learning how to be everything my children needed. At the same time, I was still holding tightly to the friendships that had been part of my life for...
There’s a very specific kind of longing that sometimes comes with growing up without a sister. Yes, I had half-siblings on my dad’s side, but they were older and out there living their adult lives. My brother and I were always very close despite the age difference. He was the cool, funny, rockstar big brother who was (and always will be) a big kid at heart, and I was incredibly grateful for that. But still, there was always this quiet, persistent longing for something else: a sister. Someone who would be mine in that way only sisters understand. You know,...
In my early- to mid-twenties, everything felt like it was unraveling. I was depressed, uninspired, dealing with health issues I didn’t fully understand, and carrying the weight of past trauma I didn’t yet have the language for. At the same time, I was wading through a dating pool that felt more like I was unintentionally starring in an episode of Punk’d, all while still carrying the scars of a serious relationship that ended in betrayal—cheating that didn’t just break my heart, but shattered my sense of trust in a way I wasn’t prepared for. For a while, I stayed there....
There are only 13 years and 11 months between us. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been—how lonely it must have felt at times. A childhood cut short, replaced with responsibilities that were night and day. Confusion and love, all wrapped into one. Growing up, it felt like I had a big sister beside me. A friend I loved with everything in me. But she wasn’t just a friend. She was my mother. I relied on her for guidance, for reassurance, for someone to look up to. And now I find myself wondering, how could she give me...
Praying for My Son Send a storm to stop him; Let his friends throw him out. May he drop to the deeps, But gently, please, Stubborn though he may be. If it could only take three days, How my mother’s heart would Rejoice in praise. From the hell you allow him, Let him cry to you. Is not Nineveh and mercy Exactly what he knows He needs— A mercy on enemies He fears You will concede? Please let all the shade wither If his is an angry soul; Humble him and help him follow Where you would have his purpose...
Grandmother, I never met you this side of Heaven, but I feel as though I have. Your pictures, scattered throughout my mother’s home, tell your story. Born to a woman who came to this country alone when she was just 16, you would be the youngest of four, with two sisters and a brother. Your short, dark, straight hair clings to your little face, a line of bangs neatly combed high on your forehead. You couldn’t be more than three years old as you sit on a stool at your sister’s First Holy Communion. The black and white photo makes...
I’ve written several times about how divorce has allowed me to find myself again, and how that version is even better than the one I was before I was married. All of that is still true. I am happier than I’ve ever been. More confident and sure of myself. I understand my emotions and how to handle myself when things get tough or scary. I am more grounded and calm than I’ve ever been. Truly, I have come out on top. I’ve received comments about how happy I look, how I’m “living my best life with kids only half the...
