It began the way many stories of transformation do — quietly, unexpectedly, and with more pain than anyone would ever ask for.
When she walked across the stage at her college graduation in May 2021, she had no idea that she was already carrying the greatest test — and greatest gift — of her life.
A few weeks later, as she prepared to return to university, she would hear words that would change her forever:
“Your baby will be born without legs.”
That moment split her life into
before and after.
There had already been other diagnoses — ten of them, in fact — each one a small earthquake. But then came another shock: her daughter, Amaya, was also deaf.
Her world stopped spinning.
Dreams of classrooms, internships, and long-planned ambitions dissolved overnight. Instead, she found herself staring into a future that terrified her.
She did what so many mothers in impossible situations do — she broke down, then began again. She paused her studies. She put life as she knew it on hold. And over the next three years, in the slow, messy process of rebuilding, she discovered something extraordinary.
Her purpose had been growing right in front of her all along.
The Moment That Changed Everything
There are moments in life that divide everything into before and after.
For her, that dividing line came inside a sterile room, beneath the hum of fluorescent lights, as the doctor spoke in words that seemed to echo from another world.
She remembers the numbness more than the pain — the sound of medical terms piling up until they stopped sounding human. Congenital limb deficiency. Bilateral amelia. Sensorineural hearing loss.
Words that explained everything and nothing at once.
“I remember thinking, ‘How can I love her enough to make this okay?’” she later said. “Because I already knew I would.”
But love, as she soon learned, wouldn’t be the only thing required. There would be surgeries, therapies, sleepless nights, and questions without answers.
And yet — through every sleepless night and every waiting-room prayer — there was also something growing quietly beneath the fear: faith.
The Burnt Toast Theory
It became a lifeline, a way to make sense of the chaos:
the burnt toast theory.
You’ve probably heard of it — the idea that when something small goes wrong, like burning your breakfast toast, it might be saving you from something worse. A delayed commute, a missed call, a plan that falls apart — all of it might be life’s way of steering you somewhere safer, better, meant for you.
At first, she didn’t believe it.
Missing her return to school in August 2021 felt like failure. She had spent years working toward her degree, juggling classes, jobs, and exhaustion — and now it felt like she had lost everything.
But slowly, she began to see it differently. That “failure” was actually protection.
Not going back to school gave her time — time to learn American Sign Language (ASL), time to fall in love with the Deaf community, and time to understand her daughter’s world in ways she never could have imagined.
What felt like life breaking apart had really been life rearranging itself — piece by piece — into something truer.
The Road Back
Before Amaya, she had changed her major ten times. Psychology was her final choice, mostly because it felt like something she could live with, not something she was born for.
She spent six years earning a two-year degree. On paper, it looked like struggle. In reality, it was preparation.
Every detour, every delay, every “burnt toast” moment had been shaping her into the person she needed to become — not just a student, but an advocate, a mother, a voice.
Now, she’s back in school, not for psychology, but for ASL-English interpreting. Her psychology minor is complete, but her heart lives somewhere else now — in the space between languages, between silence and sound.
It’s where she’s found her purpose.
The Girl Who Changed Everything
Amaya was born with more challenges than most adults will ever face, but her mother says she radiates light.
“She’s my why,” she says simply.
It’s not just a phrase. It’s a truth that has become the foundation of everything she does.
Because of Amaya, she’s walked into rooms she never imagined entering — rooms where decisions are made about accessibility, education, and inclusion. She’s advocated for language rights, helped parents of Deaf and disabled children find support, and built a bridge between worlds that too often stay divided.
Through it all, she’s learned a lesson that no classroom ever taught her: love can be fluent in any language.
“I used to think my purpose would be found in my career,” she says. “But my purpose was learning how to communicate with my child — and helping others do the same.”
Redefining Success
When she looks back at her old self — the girl who thought success meant following a timeline, finishing college on time, checking every box — she smiles softly.
Because that girl didn’t know that life doesn’t always move in straight lines.
She didn’t know that sometimes, when everything burns down, it’s only so that something stronger can rise in its place.
Pausing school wasn’t failure. It was a doorway.
Through it, she found not just a new career, but a new calling.
Her days are now filled with both structure and spontaneity — college classes in interpreting, afternoons filled with sign practice, evenings spent helping Amaya with therapy, and bedtime stories told in gestures instead of words.
It’s a rhythm built from chaos, softened by grace.
A Language of Love
ASL has become more than a language for her — it’s become a lifeline.
At first, it was intimidating — the grammar, the movement, the realization that language could live in the hands, not the mouth. But soon, it became second nature.
When Amaya signs mommy or love, there’s a magic in it — a bridge built entirely from motion and meaning.
That connection has given her more than communication; it’s given her community.
She’s found friends among interpreters, Deaf advocates, and parents like her — people who understand what it means to live between two worlds, and to love in both.
“Learning ASL didn’t just change how I talk,” she says. “It changed how I listen.”
Lessons From the Detours
Looking back, it’s easy to trace the path — the pauses, the reroutes, the heartbreaks that ended up saving her.
She calls them her “burnt toast” moments — the little frustrations that once felt like disasters but turned out to be protection in disguise.
Not going back to school in August 2021.
Failing classes she thought she needed.
Switching majors again and again.
All of it led her here.
“I thought my life was on pause,” she says, “but really, it was being rewritten.”
Now, when something goes wrong — when plans fall through or delays happen — she doesn’t spiral. She smiles. She’s learned that sometimes, the universe burns the toast so you’ll leave the house two minutes later — and avoid the storm waiting outside.
From Uncertainty to Purpose
Her story isn’t polished. It’s not the kind of story that fits neatly into an inspirational quote or a perfect Instagram caption.
It’s real — filled with fear, frustration, exhaustion, and faith.
There are still hard days. There are still moments when she questions if she’s doing enough, being enough, or handling it all the right way.
But then she looks at Amaya — laughing, signing, thriving — and she knows.
She was never meant to rush her life back to normal.
She was meant to create a new kind of normal.
One built on love, resilience, and the belief that sometimes, the things that feel like delays are actually divine redirections.
The Bigger Picture
Her story, though deeply personal, touches something universal.
Everyone has moments when life doesn’t go according to plan — when the path we thought was ours disappears, and we’re forced to take another.
But what if that’s the point?
What if every detour, every heartbreak, every moment of burnt toast is simply steering us toward where we truly belong?
She believes that now — not because life got easier, but because she learned to see purpose in the pauses.
“I wouldn’t change any of it,” she says. “Not even the hard parts. Especially not the hard parts.”
Because without them, she wouldn’t have found her calling.
Without them, she wouldn’t speak the language that connects her to her daughter’s world.
Without them, she wouldn’t have become her.
The Burnt Toast Theory, Rewritten
As she looks toward the future — a new degree, a new career, a new chapter — she carries with her one simple truth:
Every delay has meaning. Every broken plan hides protection. Every burnt toast moment has a purpose.
And when life seems to fall apart, it might just be falling into place.
Her daughter taught her that.
Her purpose — the one she once thought she lost — was never missing. It was simply waiting for her to slow down long enough to find it.
And now, when she wakes each morning to Amaya’s laughter, she smiles and signs thank you.
Because in every burnt piece of toast, every pause, every detour — she found grace.
She found direction.
She found herself.
And that’s the kind of miracle only life’s delays can create.
