On the anniversary of Hurricane Helene …
On the anniversary of Hurricane Helene, it feels important to pause—to reflect, to honor, and to share where we are now.
Our lives were forever changed by that storm. The memory lives deep in our bones. The PTSD and trauma dreams still come (I had one just last night). The feel, tone, sound, and sheer experience of Mission Hospital during those first days will never be forgotten.
But before I get into the storm itself, I want to rewind a bit.
In 2023, Roxy and I were forced to take a hard look at our business. As we prepared to launch our Embodied Birth Trainings, we had to ask ourselves if our work was viable in the long run. One thing became very clear—we were doing a lot of community service work. Work we loved. But work that wasn’t paying the bills.
So, we made a decision: keep our LLC for our teaching and trainings, and create a 501(c)(3) to house our service work. We didn’t want to stop serving—we wanted to do more. That decision, though we couldn’t have known it then, set us up to be community care workers in a way that would become vital.
Then came the storm.
View of the hurricane aftermath.
After Helene hit, I walked with my family down our street to check on neighbors and peek at the river just a few blocks away. Turning that corner and seeing the river, my heart sank. The flooding was unimaginable. I watched as some of my family’s favorite businesses collapsed into the French Broad. My two- and four-year-old stood by my side as tears ran down my face—and I still wish they hadn’t had to see that.
After taking in the devastation in our neighborhood, I began to panic. Were my people okay? My clients, my friends, my neighbors? I tried to get gas so I could check on Roxy, but the lines were endless and I didn’t have enough fuel. I cried the whole drive home, terrified. And then—I saw an e-bike pulling into my driveway. It was Roxy, with Melissa and Connor (Roxy's husband). The relief of seeing their faces is something I’ll never forget.
From that moment, we got to work. (Okay, after a little mezcal.) We made a plan: how we’d stay in touch, how our clients could reach us, what we imagined the community might need in the days ahead. And then we hit the ground running.
Travelling the neighborhood with my kids.
The days and weeks that followed were some of the most intense service days of my life. I pushed my toddlers for miles in a borrowed double stroller (thank you, Flow of Life community) gathering diapers, wipes, formula, bottles, water, and so much more for families. I ran into clients and students on the street and told them how to get a hold of us. As communications began to trickle back, Flow of Life was one of the first to share accurate provider information with the community. We became a bridge—connecting care providers to the people who needed them most.
Soon it became clear: families needed help relocating. We supported people who were 38 weeks pregnant and evacuating, trying to find new homes, new doulas, new care teams. The stories were endless. So Roxy and I launched a fundraiser. We raised tens of thousands of dollars and gave it directly to families across WNC. We helped connect people with care in Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, and beyond. The Flow of Life family stretched wider than we ever imagined.
So—where are we now?
We’re still here. Still showing up. Still guiding families, sharing resources, supporting however we can. Hurricane Helene deepened our roots and strengthened our passion in ways that words can’t fully capture. But in the months that followed, we also faced new challenges. After the storm came the election, and with it, threats against our 501(c)(3) for the simple act of supporting perinatal health. We kept going anyway.
Since Helene, our fundraising has been smaller. Partly because the energy fundraising requires is massive, and with such a small team, it doesn’t always happen. That doesn’t mean we stopped giving—we still offer scholarships, equity seats, and our time. It just means we’re often doing it pro bono.
So where do we go from here?
We’d love to call you to action. Support your local perinatal health community.
Buy a tee, show up at our events, donate if you can.
Or get involved in the work—are you passionate about reproductive health? Become a doula. Train in prenatal yoga.
Lift up your local birth workers and small businesses.
Because climate change is real. More disasters will come. And when they do, communities need to be ready to hold each other. I believe with all my heart that the future is community care. Yes, systemic support matters too—but when Helene hit, who was there first? Without a doubt, it was neighbors helping neighbors.
Because climate change is real. More disasters will come. And when they do, communities need to be ready to hold each other. I believe with all my heart that the future is community care. Yes, systemic support matters too—but when Helene hit, who was there first? Without a doubt, it was neighbors helping neighbors.
xo,
Sue Ann + Roxy
