"I am such an open book," she tells Weekender of her journey to wellness amid steering two businesses and a household that includes husband, Anthony, and their sons, Caden, 18, who has cerebral palsy, and Eli, 17, who is neurodivergent.

"People think you should be ashamed of stuff and I'm not ashamed about anything. If it's there, I'll tell you...How do people heal or better understand what you are going through if you don't share?"

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Warm, comic and brisk in manner, Rohr, 43, lives on 48 picturesque acres at Duns Creek, near Maitland. Down a dirt track flanked by gums and dandelions lies the family's contemporary, off-the-grid property and a tiny house, the latter still under construction.

"Caden and I built the kitchen ... He watched and told me to work harder," says Rohr, standing in the tiny house. Reliant on a wheelchair, her first-born speaks a handful of words and generally beams when they are together.

Down a gentle slope is Rohr's work shed, which recently doubled in footprint to accommodate her shoe business, Avarcas Australia, and jewellery brand, Hey Luna. Shelves are lined with shoe boxes, ring drawers and her first efforts at pottery.

"Being creative is when I get my rejuvenation and 'me time'," she says.

Within cooee are Reveille, her gentle brown stallion, miniature horse Eddie, Gus the border collie and Tully, a Burmese cat with a knack for opening sliding doors and door handles with his paws.

Rohr's love for nature grew in her childhood in south-west Sydney. The eldest of four children to a Cyprian-born father and Australian mother, she played in bushland beyond the back fence and the neighbours had horses.

After high school she went to university then dropped out. At 19 she met Anthony on a ski trip to Jindabyne and travelled solo before they married.

Her first pregnancy with Caden was "textbook" until, just after her first birthing class, she noticed her baby wasn't moving much. When her GP couldn't find the baby's heartbeat she was rushed to hospital. "I had an emergency caesarean at 29 weeks," she says.

Like any first-time mum, Rohr winged it, taking Caden's challenges - severe brain haemorrhages at birth caused his cerebral palsy and, later, epilepsy - in her stride with her husband. She and a group of mums founded the Miracle Babies Foundation, which supports families of premature and sick newborns.

"I am not someone to take something slow," she says.

Eli's arrival in 2005 was a fraught time. Born at at 25 weeks and weighing 520 grams, he spent five months in hospital.

In 2006, the family left Sydney for Duns Creek to live in a cottage on the property of Anthony's parents.

Within two years, things deteriorated sharply for Rohr.

"I was running on empty and in a job where I was having issues with a colleague and not getting support from the company," she says. "I started to have panic attacks, not knowing what they were, which always happened when I was alone or with the boys."

Unable to stop crying, she begged Anthony to come home.

"That night I had thoughts of hurting Caden, just for a split second, and it's never happened again," she recalls.

"But it was like, if I didn't have all that added pressure. things would be OK. The next morning I said, 'You need to take me to hospital.'

Rohr went to the emergency department in Maitland hospital. A psychiatrist told her she was severely depressed and her GP prescribed medication for her anxiety.

"Anxiety and panic attacks is a very physical illness for me: extreme nausea, unable to eat, zero energy and drastic weight loss," she says. "I needed people to stay with me so Ant could go to work. My extended family took turns to help look after the boys as they'd trigger a panic attack."

Rohr battled to understand what helped or hindered her mental health.

"It took me a good 10 years to get a handle on it and I'm coming up to 14 years now since that first situation. You learn how to manage panic attacks, and if you have a down day it's ok but you don't have to spiral," she says.

Her anxiety and panic attacks returning this year coincided with another transition stage.

"When I had my first breakdown, Caden had just started primary school and had his first big seizure... a lot of things were happening," she says. "This year he transitioned out of high school. There's been a lot of change. I was just really run down."

Six years ago, Rohr saw an integrative health GP. A range of tests revealed, she says, a genetic predisposition to anxiety thanks to the MTHFR enzyme.

"I call it the motherF***er gene," she quips, adding that in her case it meant her body wasn't processing folate and B vitamins which are "great for mental health".

Rohr turned to MTHFR Support Australia, which addresses health issues associated with MTHFR genetic polymorphisms and methylation issues.

Acknowledging that the subject lies in the alternative medicine space, and that MTHFR is "complex and different for everyone", Rohr's holistic treatment plan now includes B12 injections, folate and a low histamine diet.

She still has "down days" but feels like a different person.

Her mental health tool box includes exercise and more sleep - not easy when Caden wakes often at night [she and Anthony alternate nights with him].

Work is a welcome distraction.

"I'm proud that I have built my businesses from the bottom up," she says. "It is one part of my life that I can control because I honestly have to throw my hands up in regards to parenting kids with additional needs and mental health."

Her shoe business was born six years ago by chance, when she discovered the avarca - a sandal popular in Spain's Balearic Islands.

Rohr found a manufacturer in Menorca and ordered 100 pairs for friends and family. Within six months, she visited Menorca.

"It was important for me to meet with the company and staff who were manufacturing the product. They really are like family," she says.

Rohr started the business with a $7000 credit card, buying 10 different colours of her stock. She now sells 10,000 pairs annually, stocks 54 styles, and has a seven-figure turnover.

The pandemic reduced her stockists but led to more sales from workers stuck at home.

Hey Luna was inspired by Rohr's anxiety and a "gross and embarrassing" habit of nail and skin picking. Repeatedly told by loved ones to stop, she had tried everything from sitting on her hands to binding her thumbs.

Rohr finds an old phone photo of her thumb, picked and raw.

"When I am anxious, even watching something suspenseful on TV, I would pick. I would be in a restaurant, hands under the table and picking so bad there was a pile of skin on the ground," she says.

Rohr complained to a friend who showed her a "worry ring" that she had just bought. Also known as an Israeli spinner ring, it has overlapping rings that allows the wearer to "spin" it.

She bought one and found it helped, but wanted a more elegant version than the commonly found, hammered-silver, "boho" style. She found a manufacturer in China to make the ring components, which she assembles.

The name Hey Luna comes from a habit she formed on long walks during COVID: "As you walk down our road, the moon comes up and I'd always say, 'Hey Luna!'"

Hey Luna launched in February, 2021, taking $11,000 in sales in the 2020-2021 financial year. In the 2021-2022 financial year sales increased to $150,000. Customers are typically women with anxiety, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or who pick their nails or skin.

Designed to be "classy" and discreet so they don't look like the adult fidgets they actually are, Rohr has named the ring styles after a loved one with anxiety.

Eli has designed a ring for teenagers but she doesn't plan to make them for younger children because of safety concerns.

Rohr had no expectations for Hey Luna: "I knew it was something I would use and that it was niche and the idea came about when a lot of people were struggling and stuck at home. It's done so much better than I ever envisaged."

Rohr's hands are now a picture of health, with polished and pedicured nails.

"I still get anxious, but I can manage it a hell of a lot better," she says.

Life is definitely not how Rohr pictured it would be before becoming a mum.

"But it's really good," she says thoughtfully. "It wasn't for a while there, but I'm really happy now."

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