A VILLAGE FOR THE HEARTS THAT HOLD EVERYTHING
Welcome.
Please quit doing this alone
— we can’t.
It’s too much.
Welcome.
Please quit doing this alone
— we can’t.
It’s too much.
A place for the hearts that hold everything.
For the parents whose stories didn’t go as planned,
but are still reweaving beautiful families into a shared nest
— messy, mended, and miraculous.

Here we hold space for one another — and don’t walk away empty.
Not like we do after another doctor or therapist appointment, where they tell us to just… [insert impractical advice here] —
and we leave wondering if they’ve
ever met a child like ours.
Or any child at all.

Here, we are stronger together.
Where your story meets ours, and ours meet each other.
Where wisdom comes from the lived, the messy, the real.
Where the nest grows
with each new heart that lands.

Right now the nest is waiting for you.
If your heart feels heavy, hopeful, or both — come in.
Sign up, show up, or just breathe here awhile.
Rewritten Nest is built for you —
let's build it together.
To settle the debate—that’s Tamuhruh, emphasis on the first syllable. The most important thing to know is that I’ll answer to pretty much anything, because I grew up with two siblings and pets, and half the time we were all guessing whether our mom was talking to one of us, the dog, or her own siblings.
My rocky life and deep curiosity about people gave me the chance to dig into relationships and families. I’ve always wanted to understand why things unfold the way they do in families. After my own marriage ended—marked by domestic violence and health struggles—I took time to rebuild and regain perspective.
Then I began fostering drug-exposed infants, many of them to reunification. What struck me most was the visceral way newborns responded when handed to their mothers during visits: they relaxed completely. They knew. I didn’t think that was possible. But they did—and that changed everything about how I saw both the foster care system and the parents I was supporting.
Somewhere along the twentynine babies I cared for, two stayed—and became my daughters. The classes for foster and adoptive parents were helpful, but they left out a lot. I went in thinking my child might have one or two challenges common in children of trauma.
No one told us most kids would have many of them, tripping over each other in their quest to create the most
mayhem in the family.
That part wasn’t in the Brochure.
I’ve raised my girls from birth to their teens, navigating special needs, endless diagnoses, care plans, and IEPs—while protecting their right to just be kids.
Because of the work we’ve done, the resources I’ve gathered, the insights I’ve gained, and the Village that’s held us,
my girls are going to be okay.
And that’s what I want for everyone: that quiet confidence—it’s going to be okay.
So here I am, offering this Village. Together, we can create one strong enough for those who are exhausted, overwhelmed, and hoping the Brochure didn’t leave out one more thing that we can’t possibly handle.
We can do this.
A Village for the Hearts Holding Everything
We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.