Six Months In, Still Healing.

As we close out Black Maternal Health Week, it’s only fitting to reflect on this moment: six months of Andie, six months of growth, six months of healing.

Six months ago, our sweet Andie made her grand and early arrival into the world. As I sit here in the quiet moments of her half-birthday, I find myself reflecting on the layers of our journey, the beauty, the challenges, and the healing that is still unfolding. I’m so grateful Andie is here, healthy, growing, laughing, and thriving.

This week also happens to be Black Maternal Health Week, a time to amplify the realities, victories, and complexities that come with bringing Black life into the world. It feels deeply personal this year. Even though I felt cared for in the hospital, and I’m truly grateful for the team that supported us, I would be lying if I said it wasn’t also a traumatic experience. Navigating a NICU stay, the unexpected turns of a premature birth, and the swirl of emotions that followed left a lasting imprint.

In those early weeks, the world around me celebrated Andie’s safe arrival (and rightly so — she is such a joy!). Yet inside, I was battling something I hadn’t fully anticipated: the slow, heavy fog of postpartum blues and anxiety. It crept in quietly at first, tucked behind the constant feedings and midnight rocking sessions, but grew heavier as the adrenaline wore off and real life settled in.

Some days felt bright and full of promise. Other days, the sadness and worry felt like an invisible weight I couldn’t quite shake. It’s something I’m slowly, and I emphasize slowly, beginning to come out of. Healing, I’m learning, doesn’t always have a clear timeline. It’s layered. It’s complicated. It’s sacred.

This milestone, six months with Andie, feels like more than a marker of time. It feels like a whispered reminder from God that beauty and brokenness often coexist. That the same hands that trembled with fear in the hospital now lift in gratitude every time Andie laughs, squeals, and reminds me that joy is still possible, even after sorrow. I feel myself emerging. Slowly. Tenderly.

This Black Maternal Health Week, I honor the stories that don’t always get told: the ones where we survive, but also wrestle. Where we are grateful, but also grieving. Where we are healing, even when the world has moved on.

If you’re in the thick of it — in the NICU nights, the postpartum valleys, the unexpected fears — know that you’re not alone. Your story matters. Your healing matters. And there is beauty being woven in the waiting.

Here’s to six months of Andie.

Here’s to the mothers who are still finding their way back to themselves.

Here’s to the ongoing work of building a world where all Black mothers are seen, heard, and truly cared for.