Mindfully Nursed

05/04/2026

Today is National FPIES Day.

We’ve lived this for almost 10 years.

If you know, you know.

This isn’t the kind of allergy most people picture. No hives. No swelling. Sometimes nothing obvious at all… until there is. And when it hits, it can be fast and frightening.

A child who was fine not long ago suddenly isn’t. Pale. Lethargic. Repeated, forceful vomiting that doesn’t stop. You’re watching it unfold and something in you knows this isn’t a stomach bug. You end up in the ER trying to explain something that doesn’t fit the usual boxes. Sometimes you’re met with understanding. Sometimes you’re met with “huh?” when you say FPIES.

And if it’s not recognized for what it is, families get sent back out to try again.

So they do. Because they’re told to. And sometimes they learn the hard way.

But not every story looks like that.

Sometimes it starts earlier, quieter.

A baby not gaining enough. Feeding doesn’t feel right but you’re told dairy and soy are usually the issue in breastmilk, so just cut those. Or switch to formula like it’s that simple, when many of these babies can’t tolerate even hypoallergenic formulas… or refuse them outright. You’re left trying to feed a baby who isn’t thriving, while being told you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing.

You start to feel like you’re missing something. Or worse, that you are the problem.

Then come the acute reactions. The ER visits. Trying to advocate while your child is unwell. Hearing things like “you don’t want to put an IV in that little babe,” when everything in you is saying yes, we need to act now. Having to argue over medication ingredients because excipients matter for these kids, even when it sounds like you’re being difficult. Being met with “so you just want to refuse treatment?” when all you’re trying to do is make sure the treatment itself won’t cause harm.

It wears on you.

And then there’s the part that doesn’t get talked about enough.

The ongoing piece.
The food trials.

This doesn’t just go away.

Every time you introduce something new, or retry a food you’ve been avoiding, you are watching and waiting. You try to act normal. You try not to let it take over. But you’re counting time in the back of your mind, scanning for signs, bracing for what might come.

Every single time.

And then the day comes when you are told to retrial a known trigger. You sit there, fully aware that this could make your child very sick, and you do it anyway because you need to know.

There’s something about that moment that’s hard to explain unless you’ve been there.

It’s a lot to carry.

I come to this as a nurse and as a parent who has lived it. Those two things don’t cancel each other out. If anything, they make the gaps more visible. The clinical pieces matter, but so does what happens in the spaces where families aren’t believed right away. Where they have to push. Where they hold the line for their child even when it’s uncomfortable.

If you’re in that place right now, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing, I see you. If you’ve felt dismissed along the way, that matters. And if this is new information for you today, FPIES is one of those conditions where earlier recognition really does change things.

This isn’t just about awareness for the sake of a post.

It’s about fewer families sitting in that limbo. Fewer kids going through repeat reactions before someone connects the dots. And more support that actually meets people where they are.

If this resonates, you’re welcome to share it. You never know who is still trying to put a name to what they’re seeing.

I also offer nurse consultations for families navigating feeding challenges and FPIES. You don’t have to figure it out alone.

04/20/2026

POV: you booked branding photos and spent at least part of the time existing as a well-dressed stress response.

04/17/2026

I talk a lot about how the way to the other side is through.

Today gave me a very literal reminder.

It was my first outdoor run in my new shoes, and partway through I came up to what was basically a giant lake across the path. No clean way around it. No clever route that was going to keep my shoes dry. I could turn back, or I could keep going and accept that things were about to get a little muddy.

I still tried, of course. A bit of hopping. A bit of tiptoeing through marshy grass. A quiet attempt to avoid what was already inevitable.

The shoes got wet.
They got muddy.
And I was honestly annoyed.

But I kept going.

I finished the run, and the path on the other side was beautiful.

It made me think about how often we do this in life. We look for the version that gets us through without discomfort. Without grief. Without mess. Without having to feel too much or risk too much. And sometimes that version simply does not exist.

Sometimes the only way forward is to let it be inconvenient. To let it be imperfect. To let it touch you.

And of course, life is deeper than wet shoes.

Some things do wash off.
Some things do dry out.

And some things don’t.

Some seasons ask more of us than a little inconvenience. They ask us to keep going while carrying grief, uncertainty, disappointment, or pain we did not choose.

Not everything can be tied up neatly.
Not everything can be washed away.

And still, we move through it the best we can. Not perfectly. Not unchanged. But through.

04/15/2026

You keep having the same fight. It just changes clothes.

I’m now offering couples therapy at Mindfully Nursed.

Bookings are open now, with appointments beginning in May 2026.

For some couples, it looks like arguing.
For others, it looks like tension, distance, short answers, shutdown, or not even knowing how to start the conversation anymore.

Most couples are not stuck because they do not care.
They’re stuck in a pattern that takes over before either person feels heard, understood, or able to respond in the way they meant to.

The same argument keeps showing up.
One of you shuts down. The other pushes harder.
Repair takes longer than it used to.
Small things carry more charge.
You miss each other, even while living side by side.

At some point, it starts to become clear that it is not only about the dishes, the tone, the timing, or the stress. It is the cycle underneath it all.

That’s often where couples therapy can help.

This work is not about picking sides. It is about slowing things down enough to understand what keeps happening between you, what each of you is bringing into the dynamic, and what gets lost when things escalate.

My approach is warm, grounded, and practical. We look at communication, emotional patterns, and the protective responses that can pull couples further apart when what they are really needing is connection, clarity, and repair.

I’m accepting bookings now, with couples sessions beginning in May 2026, as I make sure the right spaces and structure are in place to support this work well.

If this sounds familiar, support is now available. You’re welcome to reach out or book a discovery call.

04/06/2026

I help bridge that gap ❤️
I’ve been there and experienced the trauma of FPIES.
Now I offer specialized 1-1 support for families navigating this difficult journey.
I also offer RN Psychotherapy to help support the mental health of parents caring for children with FPIES.
Evidenced based and lived experience.

03/31/2026

Sometimes the office is for therapy. Sometimes it is for paperwork and admin. And sometimes it is for the quieter in-between moments, like weekend errands, restocking the coffee station, rehanging that pesky picture, and a game on the rug with one of my littles.

There is something about that overlap that feels very real to this season of life. Building a business, holding space for others, and still being mom in the middle of it all.

I also love that even when I do not have appointments, my family still wants to come spend time here with me. I take that as a good sign.

03/31/2026

I realized I never shared the updated office space.

This room has continued to evolve over time as I find just the right pieces and slowly curate a space that feels warm, grounded, and comfortable to spend time in. I wanted it to feel like me, yes, but also like somewhere people could walk in, settle a little, and feel a bit more at ease.

One of my favourite additions has been these bird prints on the long wall. Anyone close to me knows I’ve always had a thing for bird decor, so when I came across these, I knew right away they were meant for this room. They felt soft and steady and full of a quiet kind of comfort. Maybe that is part of what birds have always held for me too. A sense of home. Of tenderness. Of returning.

Not long after I hung them, one came crashing down. Then it fell again. The corner broke.

It has been repaired now, and if you look closely, you can still see where the pieces were lovingly put back together. There is something about that which feels especially fitting in a space like this and in the work that happens here. A reminder that things do not need to be untouched to be beautiful. Sometimes the care shows. Sometimes that becomes part of the beauty.

03/17/2026

New on the blog.

I think a lot of people quietly live here for longer than they realize.

Not in full crisis.
But not feeling like themselves either.

Still managing.
Still showing up.
Still doing what needs to be done.

But feeling more depleted, more anxious, more irritable, or more emotionally stretched than usual.

This post is about that space.

Because you do not have to wait until things get worse before reaching for support.

Read here:

Still showing up, still functioning, still getting through the day. But underneath it all, something feels off. This post explores what it can look like when you’re not in crisis, but not really okay either, and how therapy can help with burnout, anxiety, overwhelm, and survival mode.

03/14/2026

I’m taking a mini March Break to slow down a little, spend time with my family, and recharge off screen for a few days.

I’ll be back on Thursday, March 19. I’ll still be checking messages here and there while I’m away, though replies may be slower than usual.

I currently have 1 to 2 appointment spots left for next week if you’ve been meaning to book in.

Sometimes care looks like showing up.
Sometimes it looks like stepping back.
This week, I’m making room for the second.

03/03/2026

Well. It’s been a minute.

I haven’t posted in a long time, mostly because my days have been full and I’ve been putting my energy where it matters most. In the work. In the room. In the real conversations.

If you’re new here, I’m Tara. I’m a Registered Nurse Psychotherapist, and I offer therapy that’s grounded, practical, and human.

If you’ve been thinking about booking, or you’re curious about working together, you can find everything here:
https://mindfullynursed.janeapp.com

02/01/2026

Something I see often is people functioning really well while feeling awful inside. It can look like getting everything done, being the reliable one, keeping the peace, staying productive, and then crashing in the quiet moments.

If that’s you right now, it doesn’t mean you’re failing. It usually means you’ve been carrying more than anyone can carry for long stretches.

Tonight, if you can, choose one small act of care that doesn’t require motivation. Drink some water. Step outside for one minute. Turn the lights down. Put your phone across the room. Do one less thing.

Not a reset. Just a little relief.

01/27/2026

I’ve had a lot of conversations lately about benefits denials that come down to one thing: provider title.

In Ontario, RN psychotherapy is regulated practice. And yet many extended health plans still rely on “eligible provider” lists that don’t reflect the reality of care. So someone finally starts therapy, builds a bit of momentum, and then gets stopped at the reimbursement stage. Not because the work isn’t psychotherapy, but because the plan’s categories haven’t caught up.

That gap matters. It delays care. It interrupts progress. It increases out-of-pocket costs. And it quietly tells people that regulated care only counts if it comes from a short list of titles.

I made this to keep it practical. What to ask. What to request in writing. Where change actually happens. If you’ve ever felt stuck in the benefits loop, I hope this gives you a steadier next step.

If this has happened to you, you’re welcome to share your experience in the comments. You never know who needs to see they’re not the only one.