It’s been a while since I’ve written, and honestly… life has happened.
To be completely transparent, I’ve been in a funk for quite some time. My mental health took a hit, not because I chose to stop taking my medications, but because I simply couldn’t afford them. One of my medications is still relatively new, so there isn’t a generic version available yet. Without insurance coverage, it would have cost me over $1,000 a month for that medication alone.
I’m not one of those people who starts feeling better and decides I don’t need medication anymore. I know what these medications do for me. The reality was that my bank account made the decision for me.
Thankfully, after starting my new job in December 2025, I was finally able to get health insurance. While I’m incredibly grateful for it, the deductible is $4,350, so healthcare is still far from cheap. But being able to get back on my medications has made a tremendous difference, and I’m thankful to finally feel like myself again.
In the middle of all of that, I had my annual CT scans for cancer surveillance.
Everything looked good.
I’m officially 2 years and 4 months cancer-free.
People always joke, “Who’s counting?”
I am.
Every single month matters. Every clear scan matters. Every milestone brings me one step closer to that five-year mark that so many survivors quietly hold onto. The anxiety doesn’t disappear, but with each clean scan it gets a little quieter.
I also had my port removed, which felt incredibly symbolic. Not only did it eliminate another monthly financial burden, but it also felt like closing another chapter in this journey.
Financially, life has certainly kept us humble.
We had purchased a tiny home that we planned to convert into additional living space for my husband and his daughter. Like so many plans, life had other ideas. We ultimately decided to send it back, which freed up a substantial amount of money each month.
Unfortunately, just as we were starting to catch our breath, February threw us another curveball.
I was taking my sister to work so she wouldn’t have to wake her babies up at five in the morning. We were stopped at a construction light when a man driving a Dodge Ram 1500 never stopped.
He slammed directly into the back of my Ford Focus.
The car was totaled.
My sister and I are both still receiving chiropractic care from the accident, and I spent two months paying for a rental car while trying to find another vehicle. If you’ve ever had to rent a car for that long, you know how quickly those costs add up.
It felt like every time we got back on our feet, something else happened.
But sometimes, the biggest blessings arrive disguised as the scariest conversations.
Right before everything happened, I had put down a deposit for my family to go on a cruise with my best friend and her family.
Because cruises require permission from both legal parents, I had to reach out to Braydin’s biological father.
If you’ve followed our story for any length of time, you know that he hasn’t been involved in Braydin’s life for quite a while. There were reasons on both sides. There was hurt. There was trauma. There were assumptions. There was a lot left unsaid.
Trauma has a way of convincing us that the stories we’ve created in our minds are absolute truth.
I didn’t want Braydin to miss out on making memories because I couldn’t put my own feelings aside.
So I reached out.
I had no idea that one message would completely change the direction of our family’s story.
Fast forward to today…
We now have weekly family dinners together.
We attend events together.
We’ve been going to family counseling every week for the past three months.
Our counselor recently told us that what we’re doing is actually very uncommon. Many co-parents struggle to put their personal feelings aside long enough to truly work together for their child.
We aren’t perfect—not even close.
We’ve learned that our biggest hurdle is communication and learning to validate one another’s feelings instead of becoming defensive.
But every week, we’re choosing to keep showing up.
For Braydin.
Healing isn’t always loud.
Sometimes healing looks like uncomfortable conversations.
Sometimes it looks like sitting around the same dinner table after years apart.
Sometimes it looks like swallowing your pride because your child deserves parents who can stand beside each other.
And it’s worth every uncomfortable moment.
Braydin will be attending a different school location this year that’s conveniently located across the alley from my job and in the same town where his dad and stepmom live.
Our hope is that, by the time school starts, we’ll be at a place where his dad can pick him up after school and spend time with him until I get off work.
We’re taking reunification in baby steps.
First it was a 20-minute car ride.
Next comes an hour.
Then two.
Eventually, overnight visits.
There’s no rushing this process, and honestly, there shouldn’t be.
We’re rebuilding trust one step at a time.
One of the things that has meant the most to me is watching Braydin’s dad become more involved in his medical care. Braydin is now receiving regular infusions, and his dad has attended several of his recent appointments. This month, he’ll have attended more infusions than he’s missed.
If you know Braydin, then you know how much that means to him.
Watching him feel loved and supported by everyone in his corner has been one of the greatest gifts.
As for me, work has been another unexpected blessing.
I’ve now been there for seven months, and I was recently promoted to Assistant Manager.
There are still stressful days.
There are still bills.
There are still moments where I wonder how everything is going to work out.
But when I look back over the past year, I’m reminded that God has been faithful through every single season—even the ones that felt impossibly hard while I was living them.
Sometimes healing isn’t just surviving cancer.
Sometimes healing is repairing relationships.
Sometimes it’s asking for help.
Sometimes it’s accepting medication.
Sometimes it’s learning to forgive.
And sometimes it’s simply believing that your story isn’t finished yet.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned lately, it’s this:
Life rarely unfolds the way we planned.
But every now and then, it unfolds into something even more beautiful than we imagined.
juMOMjia 