The RV Book Fair 2026: Interview with Sarah Deschamps

Your books are deeply personal and explore resilience, motherhood, medical trauma, and mental health. What gave you the courage to share such intimate parts of your family's journey with readers?

People who experience this kind of trauma don’t tell their stories. We keep them to ourselves. We hide. I titled my book, “I Couldn’t Tell You: The True Story of a Mother and Daughter’s Journey to Overcome Their Mental Health Demons” because I couldn’t tell anyone, actually, didn’t want to tell anyone because it is too overwhelming, too impossible to comprehend. I made light of our struggles by telling people I was fine, that I could handle all of my daughter’s medical care.

I learned through the process of healing that the most important thing I could do was tell people. I had to trust people. I had to believe that my friends and family would catch me if I fell. In order to heal, I finally understood that others who are going through such difficult, dark times, could learn from me, so that is why I ultimately wrote my books.

In "Journey to Japan," you describe the emotional experience of raising a child with complex medical needs while living in a foreign country. Looking back, what was the greatest lesson that Japan taught you—not just as a mother, but as a person?

The Japanese culture is based on the belief that you should not disturb something called the “wa.” It is the harmony and peace that exists in their culture. People choose to conform to it, and that “wa” allows for community over an individual’s needs. When there are cultural and language barriers, especially the complicated ones we experienced because our newborn remained in a Japanese hospital for five weeks after her birth, understanding and respecting the cultural norms, and rules, meaning the “wa,” became cumbersome and sometimes almost impossible. It was a difficult lesson to learn.

Your memoir "I Couldn't Tell You" explores the relationship between a mother and daughter as they navigate mental health challenges. What inspired you to tell this story now, and what conversations do you hope it will encourage?

In memoir, because you are telling your own personal experience, it is hard to know when to end the story because your life goes one. In my first book, Journey to Japan, I had a natural end because after seven years of living abroad, our family left Japan and moved back to the United States. I could write the book because we had moved on from that part of my life.

My second book, I Couldn’t Tell You, is about how medical trauma impacts mental health. The book spans 2007-2023, and shows the deep scars that medical and caregiver PTSD left on our family. I chose to tell the story now because both my daughter and I are finally healed and hopeful about our futures. I hope the book opens people up to discuss their own difficult issues.

Throughout your books, readers witness extraordinary resilience, but also moments of fear, doubt, and vulnerability. Was there a particular chapter that was especially difficult for you to write?

The hardest chapter to write was one that my daughter crafted the first draft for. It is the story of her finally telling me about how much pain and suffering she was feeling and experiencing. Those weeks, in 2023, were the most difficult ones of my life, and I didn’t know what words to use to explain what had happened. In the end, I decided it was her story to tell, so I had asked her to write it in her own words.

Before I even started to write the rest of the book, my daughter handed me that story. She asked me to read it right away to see if it fit with the rest of the book. I knew how painful it would be to read, so I tucked it away to read later. An entire year went by, and I finally got to the part of the book that included her writing and took a deep breath, found a quiet space, and read her words. I cried and cried to remember what we lived through and to understand, in her own words, what it had felt like for her.

Many families experience medical or mental health challenges in silence. What message would you like to share with parents who may be facing similar struggles today?

Tell someone. At the end of every interaction that I have with any family member who is suffering because of medical trauma, I say that they should find someone, a psychologist, psychiatrist, a medical professional, a friend or family member and tell them their story. Find the words to explain what has happened, what is happening, and what you are worried about. Trust that even though that person could not possibly understand what you are experiencing, they can care for and support you through your journey.

Living abroad adds another layer of complexity during a crisis. How did being an expatriate in Japan shape your perspective on healthcare, culture, and community?

Our family loved living in Japan. The seven years we lived in Tokyo are the highlight of our lives. We looked and behaved differently from every person we met. We spoke a different language too, but we were the guests in the Japanese culture, so we did our best to learn, every single day, we had to learn. Sometimes that was easier than others.

With respect to healthcare in particular, as I point out in my book, Journey to Japan, it is quite paternalistic, at least it was when my daughter was born in 2000. That meant that the doctors knew best, and the mother was secondary in every decision. In my book, I give vivid accounts of how difficult that was for me when some of the decisions were life for death for my daughter.

Despite the serious subjects you write about, readers often mention the warmth and humor woven throughout your stories. How important is humor in helping us survive life's most difficult moments?

Humor is critical, but sometimes so hard to find any kind of humor when life is so difficult. When I was writing I Couldn’t Tell You, my brother invited me to stay at his home in Alabama for two weeks so I could focus entirely on my writing. Every evening, we would have dinner together and I’d tell him the pieces of the story that I had crafted that day. By the 5th or 6th night, he quietly suggested that the book was too heavy and I needed to find some humor, or at least something to lighten the weight of my story. For those who have read my book, or those of you who are curious, that is how the chapter about alligators was added.

Writing a memoir often means revisiting painful memories. Did the writing process itself become part of your healing journey? If so, how?

Writing for me isn’t helpful with healing. I’m not a writer by training, in fact I have never taken a formal writing class. Writing is something I work hard at, choosing words that form sentences that form paragraphs and chapters that unfold into an entire story is a lot of work for me. I don’t write for myself. I write for the readers of my book. In the case of I Couldn’t Tell You, I want the reader to feel what I felt, see what I saw, and experience what I experienced so they can understand what medical trauma looks like and how it impacts mental health. That hard work didn’t allow time for reflection.

However, speaking about my book has become part of my healing journey. Seeing that my book does resonate with readers, knowing that my story is meaningful, helps to alleviate the pain I have lived and turns it into hope and healing.

Your work reminds us that compassion can change lives. Were there individuals you met during your family's journey whose kindness left a lasting impact on you?

The doctor who performed five of our daughters fifteen surgeries, the first one happening when she was only eight months old, has become a friend. He is not only revered as one of the best pediatric surgeons and urologists in the field of colorectal surgery in the United States, but he is kind and compassionate and thoughtful as well. He has changed our lives for the better.

What projects are you most excited about next, and what do you hope readers carry with them long after they've finished your books?

For the moment, I’m working hard on promoting I Couldn’t Tell You. I have had several live TV interviews, been a guest on podcasts, interviewed for print, and spoken at medical conferences. I hope to continue to speak to doctors, medical professionals, and the general public about the importance of recognizing that long-term medical issues will impact mental health and need to be addressed.

Sarah Deschamps, C.E.T., CBET (C), is a professional with a diverse background in education and development. She has worked as a teacher and school administrator in both the United States and Tokyo, Japan, and has raised significant funds for mission-driven organizations. Her memoirs, "Journey to Japan: A Life-Saving Memoir" and "I Couldn’t Tell You," explore her family's journey through medical and emotional crises, offering a blend of cultural complexity and resilient advocacy. Deschamps' work has been recognized with a master's degree from Stanford University and has been published internationally.

Find out more at www.sarahdeschamps.com.

Interview published in The Relatable Voice Magazine - The RV Book Fair 2026 - Special. Download the full magazine for free at The RV Book Fair | Relatable Media.