
I’ve lived the professional career-ASD mom juggling act sometimes gracefully, sometimes not.
I understand the 2 a.m. Google searches, the paperwork piles, and the emotional rollercoaster.
Practical tools you can use today, even if your white coat is still in the dryer.
I’d love to connect with you whether you’re in scrubs, yoga pants, or your “I survived another day” sweatshirt.
“You don’t need another weight on your shoulders you need a cozy corner, a deep breath, a hug and a friend in your corner”
Small wins matter. In-between moments matter. Joy isn’t a finish line you cross someday it’s something you make space for right now, in the middle of your real, beautifully imperfect life. Maybe it’s the deep breath you take before walking into your next shift. Maybe it’s the knowing that your child loves you even if they can’t speak it. Or maybe it’s just sitting in the front seat of your car, sipping a warm-ish latte and letting the world pause for a moment. Those tiny pauses aren’t distractions, they’re the building blocks of the life we'll help you reclaim.
And that moment changed the entire direction of my life and work.
For decades, I trained to understand the human body.
Medicine.
Immunology.
Neuroscience.
I knew how to diagnose, analyze, and treat complex problems.
But when my son Miguel struggled with severe food aversion and sensory sensitivities, none of my training prepared me for the emotional reality of being his mother.
I wasn’t just a physician anymore.
I was the one trying to help my child eat dinner without tears.
And like so many mothers, I felt the quiet pressure to hold everything together.
Career.
Family.
Appointments.
Advocacy.
And my own exhaustion.
Instead of forcing food or escalating mealtime battles, I began exploring the neuroscience of sensory exposure and immune tolerance.
What if we treated food aversion the way medicine approaches desensitization?
Slowly.
Predictably.
Without pressure.
So we tried something simple.
One vegetable.
Green beans.
One month of structured sensory exposure.
No force.
No stress.
Just gradual familiarity.
And something remarkable happened.
Miguel slowly moved from refusing green beans… to tolerating them… to eventually eating them.
That experience became the foundation of what I now call the Green Bean Desensitization Protocol.
It was about mothers.
Because everywhere I looked, I saw brilliant women doing extraordinary things.
Physicians.
Nurses.
Therapists.
Researchers.
Women who could manage hospital teams and life-and-death decisions…
Yet felt completely alone when navigating autism parenting.
They were burned out.
Overextended.
Carrying systems that were never designed to support them.
And that’s when I realized my work wasn’t just about helping children.
It was about helping the mothers who love them.
Because when we address mothers' needs as foundational, a resourced, relaxed and energized mom provides the support and environment their neurodivergent child NEEDS to blossom
Get my free guide that walks you through the gentle, neuroscience-informed approach behind the Green Bean Desensitization Protocol, so you can bring more calm and progress to your child’s plate.

Blending science, lived experience, and compassionate coaching to support high-achieving moms raising autistic children.
Practical, neuroscience-informed tools that help families navigate sensory challenges and food aversion without power struggles.
Coaching and community for professional women balancing demanding careers with autism parenting.
Helping mothers create structures that reduce burnout and restore calm at home and work.

My medical degrees matter.
My research matters.
But the experience that shapes my work the most is being Miguel’s mom.
Our journey has included food struggles, sensory overwhelm, small victories, and moments of deep joy.
Those experiences remind me every day that behind every autism diagnosis is a family doing the best they can.
And behind every child is a mother who deserves support too.
Double espresso latte (preferably not reheated)
Scrolling through delicious recipes and saving them because now I know I'll do them.
Showing up to work in different colored socks, pretending my teenage daughter told me it’s the next fashion trend.