The Children I Carry

Why I’m Writing This Series: THE CHILDREN I CARRY

The Children I Carry was born from the quiet moments that never leave me.

The pauses after sessions, the smell of a therapy room after a storm of tears, the small voices that still echo long after the chart is closed.

As a pediatric psychologist, I’ve met hundreds of children, also the children inside the parents, the ones who are still hurting, still hoping, still needing love. — each carrying a story far too big for their small hands. And somewhere along the way, I realized: I carry them too. Their courage, their rage, their resilience, their confusion — they live in the spaces between my professional boundaries and my human heart.

This series is my way of honoring them.

The children who taught me how to listen beyond words.

The ones who reminded me that healing is not a straight line.

The ones who made me question what it means to “help.”

And the ones who showed me that sometimes, love looks like standing still and saying, I see you.

These poems are not case notes. They’re love letters — to the children I’ve met, the parents who keep on trying, the therapist I’ve become, and the human being still learning what it means to hold pain with tenderness.