What Stephanie Nielson Taught Me

Last Saturday I had the opportunity to speak at the Evanston Regional Hospital Women’s Conference along with Stephanie Nielson as the keynote speaker. I knew of her, but didn’t really know her until we met, and I listened, and I learned.
Three things struck me about her that will stay with me. First, she and her husband were two of the most humble, gracious, and aware people I’ve met. From the moment I bumped into them backstage before they went on (I was in search of the conference coordinator and ended up taking photos of and with them!) to the end of their talks, both of them radiated a bone-deep gratitude and graciousness for all they had and what was happening. That inner radiance was enveloping—it wasn’t until after we hugged that I realized, I hadn’t noticed her scars. I had registered her gorgeous blue jacket and cute hairstyle and lovely eyes, but everything else came after—not as a standout but just as part of taking in who she was.
Then she spoke specifically about her experience as a plane crash and burn victim survivor. Burned over 80 percent of her body, skin grafts were difficult and scarce—you can’t donate skin, it turns out. It all has to come from your own body. So they would graft small pieces, then send them back east, incubate and grow them, then send them back to be sewn into her body and apparently stretched. She spoke of changing her burn dressings, an incredibly painful process that, as I remember from another lady, required literally scrubbing the touch-tender wounds with a scrub brush. She said the pain was so overwhelming she would make herself pass out just to not feel it anymore. She spoke of not having a good chance of even living; then, being told if she did, she would only be able to do very, very minimal things in life and at home.
But Stephanie had one thing they didn’t understand—the second thing I learned: she had a heart-pounding determination to “get my old job back—to be a mom.” I learned that the power of a mother’s love and desire to personally nurture and raise her children is not just something we know and accept. But that it’s a force to be reckoned with; an actual power that can literally motivate someone to walk, and live, and love, and survive, despite the odds.
Which leads me to the third thing that struck me: at the end of her presentation, after gently and humbly sharing the horrifying months and years of recovery she has endured and will continue in some form to deal with for the rest of her life, she said this: “I would get back in that plane again, to become the person I am and what I’ve learned.”
That’s an incredible statement. And yet, as I pondered the conviction of it, I realized that this is exactly what life’s experiences are about: life-changing, heart-breaking, soul-wrenching experiences that make us dig deep and open up. Trials and triumphs that expand our emotions, our understanding, our ability to think, feel, and love.
As I walked away from her presentation, I considered the change in my heart. Just that morning I had complained to my husband about puffy old lady eyes and new wrinkles. I give my thanks to Stephanie and her sweet husband, Christian, for walking this path and inspiring so many. To share our gratitude for all she’s done to promote and support motherhood and its value, we presented her with one of our “Motherhood Matters” gift baskets!

Meanwhile, I hope you will be kinder to your body and self, and to others in the same way. And to pat yourself on the back for your fierce love of mothering. And to more fully appreciate that the “beautiful heartbreaks” that we experience in life deeply and meaningfully make us who we need to be.
Best,
Connie