Why Moms Are Overwhelmed But Won’t Ask For Help

“Give me a key to your house. I’m going to take care of things while you’re gone.”

The thought horrified me. But I was too weary and overwhelmed to argue.

Our son had just been diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. We had only a few hours to pack and leave to go to a pediatric hospital more than an hour away.

We had no idea how long we’d be there.

My house was a train wreck. The weeks leading up to Micah’s diagnosis were a whirlwind of doctor and therapy appointments and trips to the pharmacy – while also taking care of his four-year-old sister.

I’m not a home-organizing wizard in the best of circumstances

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