My two miracles

Liam & Lucas — our journey beyond 25 weeks.

This is the story behind everything else on this site: why I study how children learn, why I build tools that notice students early, and why I write books for different minds.

Liam as a newborn in the NICU, wrapped in red, with a feeding tube — Liam

Lucas as a newborn in the NICU, mid-yawn — Lucas

Our beginning

Fifteen weeks too soon.

Liam and Lucas came into this world at just 25 weeks. Their first home was not a nursery but a neonatal intensive care unit, where months of special care began among monitors, tubes and the steady hands of extraordinary nurses.

I learned to hold them skin-to-skin around the wires. I learned the language of alarms and oxygen numbers. Most of all, I learned that every gram, every breath and every day was a victory worth celebrating.

Skin-to-skin kangaroo care with a tiny baby in a knitted hat

The neonatal intensive care unit at night

The two babies lying side by side with a green toy frog

Growing differently

Not slower. Their own way.

Coming home was not the end of the journey — it was the beginning of a different one. Along the way our family has learned to live with autism, cerebral palsy and hydrocephalus, and with all the therapies, appointments and adjustments they bring.

It has also shown me each boy’s strengths: curiosity, humour, stubborn determination, a delight in dinosaurs and science and cake. They taught me that progress is not measured by how fast we move, but by how far we have come.

A baby boy practising tummy time on a cushion

One of the boys posing proudly in front of two dinosaur models

The two boys eating chocolate cake at a birthday celebration, one in a party hat

Learning together

Our kitchen table is a classroom.

Reading, numbers, thinking, everyday life skills and independence — we learn them together, one small step at a time. When I couldn’t find materials patient enough for the way my boys learn, I started making my own.

Those pages became my books. Every one of them is built on what my sons taught me: keep it calm, keep it clear, make room to try again — and celebrate every small win.

See the books

The two boys in lab coats and safety glasses at a science workshop

Around the world with my boys

A promise, kept one trip at a time.

I once made my sons a promise: if they would just be healthy and happy, I would take them around the world. So we go — rivers and caves, museums and palaces — and wherever we are, the boys throw their arms wide open.

One of the boys laughing with arms wide open beside a green river and limestone cliffs

Yen and both boys stacked with arms outstretched in front of Buckingham Palace

One of the boys with arms raised in front of a cave entrance on a river

A promise to my boys

You came into this world much earlier than expected, at just 25 weeks.

Your first home was not a nursery, but a neonatal intensive care unit.

Since then, our journey has been filled with challenges, discoveries, tears, laughter, and countless little victories.

You have taught me that life is not about being perfect, being first, or being better than anyone else. It is about finding joy, embracing differences, and having the courage to keep moving forward.

I don’t need you to become famous, wealthy, or extraordinarily successful. I just want you to be healthy, happy, and free to be yourselves.

And I have one promise to make:

“You only need to be healthy and happy. I’ll take you around the world.”

With all my love, Mom

To every parent on a similar road

You are not alone.

If our story speaks to you, I would love to hear yours.

Write to me