Mother’s Day has always felt meaningful to me—but this year, it feels different.
When Sienna had just turned one, our home was filled with the smells of cooking. I’ve always loved the ritual of it—slow, thoughtful, nourishing. At that stage, she had a sensitive stomach, so I was doing everything I could to give her the healthiest meals possible. That meant a lot of crockpot cooking—soft, simple, made with care.
One day, after coming home from music class, I was in the kitchen making lunch. Sienna was in that phase of pulling herself up, curious and getting into everything. We had baby-proofed the house—covered outlets, secured cabinets, removed anything sharp. I felt like I had done everything right.
But in a moment, everything changed.
She pulled herself up and reached for the cord of the crockpot sitting on the counter. Within seconds, she had pulled it down. Hot liquid—oil, broth—spilled over her small body.
I will never forget her screams.
Instinct took over. I pulled off her clothes and put her in a cold shower, but her skin had already begun to peel. I rushed her to Phoenix Children’s Hospital, where we began a journey I never could have imagined—one that turned into a month-long stay and five surgeries.
We are incredibly lucky to be on the other side of it now. She carries a few scars, but more than anything, she carries a story of resilience.
During that month in the hospital, I met other mothers—many there for similar accidents. Moments that changed everything in an instant. I saw grief, guilt, and strength in ways I had never experienced before. And I felt it all myself—feelings that still surface from time to time.
Motherhood is beautiful, but it’s also fragile. We do everything we can to protect our children, and sometimes, despite that, things still happen.
This Mother’s Day, I find myself feeling deeply grateful—for healing, for resilience, and for the care we received at Phoenix Children’s Hospital.
To give back, Whxte will be donating 10% of all purchases now through Mother’s Day to Phoenix Children’s Hospital.
A small gesture, but one that comes from a place that is deeply personal.
For the mothers who have sat in hospital rooms.
For the children who are still healing.
And for the care teams who show up every single day.