Category Archives: Child Loss

{Infertility} The Ugly Truth about Chasing Rainbows

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When  a woman has a misscarriage or a still birth people often say “oh you can try again. You will have another one, don’t worry.” They do not realize that those words or even the thought of trying again cuts through her soul. She wanted THAT baby. She did not plan for a future baby, she had planned on brining THAT baby home. 

My journey to motherhood has had more potholes than smooth pavement. I watch friends fall pregnant on a whim. I for some reason do not have access to the baby water or whatever magical dust is flying around. Five years. Five years stood between Lucia and Baby E. Both my children were not planned, yet they were desperately wanted and now the desire to mother someone is strong.

Before Baby E I had made peace with the fact that I would never carry a child. Adoption, was going to be my best option. Doctors told me that my uterus was to broken to carry a child and mostly it was a risky endeavor. Girls with a history of blood clots and stroke, well it’s not recommended that you become pregnant. I felt cheated and robbed, one decision affected my whole fertile life. All my friends who went on the NuvaRing got babies, I got a blood clot. This was the hand I was delt and with time I learned to live with it. 

That is until a blue plus sign showed up. I was scared, no not scared, I was fucking terrified. I had been pregnant before and it didn’t turn out so well. I went home with empty arms. I was cautiously  getting attached to the group of cells I was carrying, the only thing that stood between me and my child was a viability scan. Every high risk pregnant woman dreads this scan. The scan is completed at 6/7weeks gestation, if there isn’t a heart beat, game over. Jay was excited for the ultrasound, as soon as an empty sac flashed on the screen, I knew in my heart it was over. God didn’t give me a second chance to be a mom. He brought me so close to motherhood, yet pushed me one step back. This rainbow was not meant to be ours. The chase was back on.

The world of baby making is not pretty. It’s pretty much a second job. There are charts to be charted, temps to be checked, sex dates on calendars, ovulation test to pee on and then there is the two week wait. The wait to see if all of your hard work (literally) and charting paid off. Month after month went by without a blue plus sign. Something in my gut said “lady you are a little off.” 

A year went by with no luck. Down the fertility rabbit hole we went, I’ve had more blood test and scans (the ultrasound wand and I are on a first name basis) than I can count. My body and I are not on good terms right now. My egg reserve is good, yet something is a miss. Luteal phase failure, progesterone and I are not on speaking terms. She is suppose to be my girl and rise to the baby maintaining occasion. Bitch is sitting in her seat exchanging gossip and not paying attention to her job at hand. Getting her to step up is tricky, yet she is my only hope. I need her otherwise I’ll never catch our rainbow.

Talking about infertility makes me feel like I failed as a woman. I’ve got one job and that is to birth babies. I think in away women judge each other. Having fertility help is like the new c-section vs vaginal birth debate.  Yes it’s true only a small percentage of the population needs fertility assistance, yet it doesn’t make me any different than fertile myrtle from down the lane. Maybe in away it makes me more of a woman because I have to endure a shit ton of testing and scans and needles to get my prize? Probably not, but I just want to throw that out there. 

The getting pregnant process doesn’t scare me. The pregnant part is what scares me. Carrying a child scares me. Not knowing what the next scan will show is what scares me. My therapist assures me that my fears are healthy and normal. That as time goes on they will ease. But for now in this moment they are very real and it’s scary. I desperately want to be a mom, yet 9 months of pregnancy terrifies me. Jay does his best to ease my fears and calms me down. He knows what I’ve gone through, it’s a lot for one soul to carry. Jay tells me that  I am strong and that I am capable of carrying our child, we just need to catch our damn rainbow and never let go, well when they are 18 will let go. 

There is a five year gap between Lucia and Baby E. Which is not normal, it’s not normal to have a five year gap or to loose two babies in a row. Which the term loose is still strange to me, I know where they are and they are not lost. The fore mentioned is the ugly truth of fertility. Some ladies have what it takes and then there are those of us who desperately want to be fertile. 

When someone asks me “do you have children?” I should be able to say “yes, but they died,” without fear of being judged or the awkward look of pity. Just like infertile women, women of dead babies get swept under the rug. It’s like we are societies dirty little secret, like we live in a fairytale land where every woman is fertile and every baby lives. 

Truth: that land does not exist and life, it’s ugly and hard. I learned this the hard way. Yet I like many women still hold onto a glimmer of hope that my next pregnancy will be successful and that it will result in a live birth. While you are doing summer things, I will be getting poked, prodded and scanned to make sure my lady bits are in working order, because this, this is going to be the year we catch our rainbow! 

{Lucia} A Lifetime of Wonder 

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Dearest Lucia,

Today Friday May 13th marks your 6th Angel Birthday. It’s hard for mommy to believe that I have spent 6 years without you. There isn’t a day that goes by where mommy doesn’t think of you. Long ago I stopped asking God “why Lucia? Why did God need you more than I did and what did I do to deserve this?”I realized Lucia that God knew that I was stronger than I realized. For it takes a strong woman to be the mother of an Angel. God knew I was up for the task, so he picked you love to join his heavenly skies. 

In the quiet moments I wonder what you would look like. If you would have mommy’s curly hair and blue eyes or the Jewish features of your father. Would you be a fearless little chatter box or a silent observer. I wonder if you would share my love of dinosaurs and gazing at the star filled skies. Maybe you’d be like your father, spending your moments playing video games and counting down the days till football starts. Who you were meant to be will always be a mystery to me. 

Your death remains a mystery. With all of the science in this world doctors were not able to put a why behind your leaving. One moment you were inside my protective womb in the next you were gracing God’s arms. Mama wasn’t ready to lose a child at 27, yet somehow I put one foot in front of the other and learned to live this life without you. It hasn’t been easy, there are good days and then there are not so good days. But for you Lucia Mommy continues on, I want you to be proud of the life I’ve made. Lucia you are in every step I take, every decision I make, and every beat of my heart, you are with me always. 

I have faith that mommy will see you again. Until that day comes a piece of me will always be in heaven. 

{Baby E} Empty Sac, Big Impact

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A year has almost passed since a bright blue plus sign appeared. I sat on the floor staring at it in disbelief. It was a good 30 minutes before it sunk in that the plus sign was for me and that a baby was on board. I was given a second chance at motherhood and Jay would be a first time father. 

In the six weeks that followed we started picking out names and nursery themes. Jay looked up baby gear on the Internet and spoke softly to my stomach. Jay was attached the instant I told him and for me I was slowly falling in love with a group of cells. My Dad started making the mobile just like he did for Luica, birds, I wanted birds for this baby. He obliged and went to work. My parents were excited to have a fifth grandchild to spoil and love on. Their excitement helped mine grow. With a little luck and a lot of faith everything would be all right. 

If you are familiar with child loss then you know all pregnancies that follow are considered high risk and there is a viability scan around 6/7weeks. This scan terrified me and I dreaded the day of our appointment. Perinatal doctors had failed me before, the fear and anxiety that I had was raw and real. The ultrasound would be my enemy, it could either make or break this pregnancy. An empty sac appeared on the screen. At almost 7weeks a fetal pole should have been inside beating away. 

I carried the little sac that couldn’t for 12 weeks. The Doctor and I called it, a plan was put in place and a D&C was scheduled for July 7, 2015. Jay couldn’t miss work so my Mama took his place. I had the sweetest nurses. My Nurse Ann made sure I knew what and where baby land was, she held my hand and gave me a hug as I headed off to surgery. A few days after surgery I got a call that my pregnancy contents had been cremated and sprinkled in Lake Wood Cemetery’s baby land, our baby is resting with a view of Lake Calhoun and I can walk over and visit if I chose to. Weeks later the pathology report would show that it was more than just a sac, it was a partial molar pregnancy, two sperm fertilized one egg and our baby had more chromosomes than it needed. 

Unlike Lucia, Baby E gave me a why and that was all I needed, I was able to be a peace with the leaving. Baby E has given me hope that I to will have a baby one day, it’s just rainbows are elusive and they are hard to catch. I have faith that my turn is just around the corner and that one day I will get to carry a baby to term. For Motherhood is a job that I desperately want. 

{Mother’s Day} STILL A Mother, My Babies You Will Always Be 

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I walked past the shelves of neatly organized Mother’s Day cards and past banners  reminding me that it was on May 8th. Commercials on the radio quickly tell me I need to hurry in and by my Mother a gift, it seems mothers like strands of pearls not fancy brunch dates. Or so that is what the owner of a jewelry store thinks. I change the radio every time the ads come on and I look to the ground as I bust past the cards, for Mother’s Day is not for me. 

Mother’s Day brings on a slew of emotions and serves as a reminder that my babies are not will me. Last year on Mother’s Day a bright blue plus sign told me I was pregnant. Excitement was replaced with an unsettled fear and I tried to show joy, it was hard. I had been on this road before and my heart it did not want to get attached to the life that was inside. My heart she was right, the ultrasound revealed an empty sac, two sperm fertilized one egg they said. To many chromosomes and we said goodbye to Baby E on 7/7/15. 

As a Mother I have faith that some how Baby E found his/her big brother in heaven. That Lucia and Baby E are together causing trouble and watching over me. Lucia would be six this year and Baby E would have been almost four months old. My heart aches for my children, I got cheated out of my son and who Baby E was meant to be. 

Right now I would have a first grader on my hands, I wonder what he would look like, would he have my blue eyes and curly hair or would he have the Jewish features of his father? Mostly I  wonder what his voice and laughter would sound like. If he would come running to me yelling “mommy mommy mommy” with a bug in his hands all covered in dirt. Or if he would be the unadventurous type who quietly watched the world around him. One day I will see my son, faith tells me that I will and when I do his voice will be the sweetest sound my soul has ever heard.

Baby E would have been almost 4 months. I wonder if Baby E would have been a girl or a boy. Jay and I were secretly hoping for a girl, we really wanted a daughter, we would have gladly taken a boy too. I wonder if Baby E would have slept through the night or kept us awake, what his/her gummy smile would look like, and if they would have had a lot of hair or been a baldy. If they would have been a good eater or a finicky one. I wonder if he/she would have felt heavy in my arms and the softness of their body against my chest. One day I will see Baby E and hold him or her in my arms.

My babies you will always be. There are no cards for Mothers like me. We as a society do not like to talk about Mothers who have lost children. It’s like we are a dirty little secret and we are looked upon as inadequate. We are STILL mothers. We did not chose to loose our children, God, he made that choice for us. Maybe God knows it takes one hell of a woman to be the mother of an angel. My children died, plain and simple they are gone, and that fact does not take away my Motherhood card. My heart aches and it wonders, it looks on at you and thinks “one day that will be me, one day that WILL be me.” 

Rainbows are special, they elude us, but if you are lucky and you manage to catch one hold on to it tightly. For there are many women who would gladly chase that rainbow until it lays heavy in her arms. 

{Go Red For Women} I can have bad days too!? 

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  There is no perfect survival story and there is no guidebook called “how to live your second chance.” Life is messy, it’s a beautiful disaster. Some survivors chose to curl up in a ball and wish the world away. Others are filled with anger and they become bitter with age. Some simply give up before they give them selves a chance to rise. Then there are the ones like me, a special breed who doesn’t deal with the mental/ emotional aspect of what happened, yet they want to change the world. 

When you survive the doctors do a really good job at taking care of your body. Your mind and soul are left with you to repair, as they do not have time for that. They simply cannot mend what they cannot see. 

Trauma leaves scars behind. Pulmonary Embolisims and Strokes take pieces of your soul and if you survive they leave you with survivors guilt. I’ve spent more days than I can count wondering why me and why not her? Why am I allowed to take a seat at the table while so many women are asked to leave? Fate she amazes me, maybe she saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself. Maybe she knew that I would grow in a moment of darkness. 

I never looked at my PE and stroke as a tramatic event, for me it was a horrible event that I wanted to stuff in my pocket. I wanted to get back to normal as soon as possible, it never crossed my mind that I needed to deal with the mental and emotional side of survivorhood. In my eyes I was doing a really good job at running from my emotions and memories. My back pocket held my PE, the Stroke, Lucia, Divorce, and Charlie. As long as they stayed in my back pocket I was safe. I believed whole heartedly in the old adage “out of sight, out of mind.” 

A soul can only carry so much disaster before its seems break. My seems burst long ago, I was living on patches, throwing myself into my work and crying my tears into the muppet like dogs fur. When I turned 32, I knew something had to give, I thought “therapy is only for the crazies and for those who can’t get their fucking little ducks in a row.” My ducks were lined up in size order, my exterior was iron clad, and crazy, ha I probably am but hey that’s ok who isn’t a little off these days.

Research, I checked the health partners sight to see what my plan covered,Watercourse is where I landed. Turns out they were right around the corner from my apartment, I had driven by their office for years. I slowly dialed there number, a nice lady answered, she asked if I had a couple minutes, I said yes. I unfolded the items hidden in my back pocket, she repeatedly said “you poor thing,” and promised to match me with a therapist. I was sceptical and hesitant, a few days later they called, her name was Emily. My first appointment was scheduled. I was ashamed to tell my friends “hey I’m gonna go see a therapist so I can learn how to deal with my shit.” 

Walking into Watercourse I was in denial and skeptical about therapy. Mostly I was afraid she would tell me “you are insane, here is the name of a psychiatrist.” No one wants to be told they are crazy. Emily didn’t tell me I was crazy, instead she asked me question after question and with each answer the items in my back pocket unfolded into the room. She started to build a picture of my past and my survival mechanism “put it in a box and deal with it another day.” 

Bottling up emotions is not the answer. Eventually the top is going to fly off and you will end up in a puddle of tears on your appartment floor. Trust me I know about this kind of thing. Emily understood the road I was walking on and through guided conversation we traced each step. We discussed how I don’t always have to be perfect, she told me “it’s ok for you to have bad days too.” Emily was the first person in 6 years to tell me that it is ok to have bad days or off days or any kind of day I want. Everyone else acted like I shouldn’t complain or have a bad day, instead I should be grateful that I am alive. 

I am grateful to be alive, I know that a few minutes could have given me a different ending. I am a stubborn survivor, help is something I rarely ask for. In my mind asking for help is a weakness and shows your flaws. Emily made me realize that we all need a little help and that people want to be needed. I am so used to being the helper that I put my own needs aside. I do everything on my own, including driving myself to the ER, because I don’t want to inconvenience anyone or ruin their day. Which I wouldn’t recommend you do, ask for help, don’t be like me. Then again I have turned a new leaf and have learned its ok to ask for help. Jay can attest to this as he has taken me to the ER about 3 times now and carries heavy things for me. I am still not great at it, but I am learning that it’s ok to not always be the helper. 

I’ve been seeing Emily for over a year now and she has helped me immensely. Not only have we delt with survivorhood but we delt with Lucia too. Everyone says “oh you will have more children,” without knowing those words cut through me like a knife. A grieving mother doesn’t want those words, she wants her children. When a plus sign showed up in May I was terrified and did not want to get to attached to the contents of my uterus. She let me know that these feelings were perfectly ok and that with time they will fade. That I didn’t have to be afraid of an ultrasound machine and that I have a right to demand that we handle this pregnancy my way. 

That + sign slowly turned into an empty sac, I was crushed. I felt defeated that my rainbow eluded me. Emily helped me deal with my emotions and fears when it was determined that a D&C was the best course of action. Without her help I probably would never have gone through with it. We talked about the procedure and that it was ok for me to speak up if I didn’t like something or if something felt off, after all it is my uterus. I did my research and found a doctor who understood what I had gone through and he promised he would take every precaution he could to protect my uterus. He did just that and he said “I have no doubt that you will carry a baby.” Those are the only words I needed to hear, that I can have babies too.

A perfect storm, the past 6 almost 7 years has been waves of disaster. Between each wave I found calm and enjoyed the beauty in the silence before the next one came crashing down on me. I was sailing in a beautiful disaster. My boat on the outside her haul was perfect, but on the inside my engine was slowing burning out. Therapy helped me really examin each wave, to realize that there was nothing I could have done to avoid them and we cannot simply see in to the future. If I did manage to avoid each wave my life would be drastically different and I wouldn’t be me. 

The biggest lesson I learned is this: it’s ok to seek out a therapist. Sometimes one goes through so much that she needs another soul to help her deal with it. I had no idea where this therapy journey would take me, I just went in with a semi closed mind and came out stronger than ever. The doctors they fixed my heart and lungs, but Emily she mended the one thing they couldn’t fix, she mended my soul. 

We are all in this together. 

Mental health is often overlooked when it comes to heart and stroke patients. So many doctors only concentrate on the physical and leave their patients to struggle through the why mes, the what ifs, and other questions that plague survivorhood. The thing is we do not have to go it alone talk to your doctor, let then know about your struggles. Because one’s mental health plays a huge part in their  recovery. If your mind is not in the game, then your heart surely won’t follow. 

To learn more about  Watercourse please visit: Watercourse Counseling 

{Baby E} Un-Due Date

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We should be counting down the days, the days until you arrive. I should be injecting myself for the last time and giving myself a pep talk for the impending c-section. We should be excitedly expecting a CoraLeigh or Olivier. Jay and I should be double checking the woodland themed nursery, the car seat, hospital bags, making sure we have enough dinosaurs and welcoming family as they excitedly arrive. “Do we have enough diapers and wipes and blankets and clothes? Did we baby proof the house enough? Oh God! Did we prepare the cats and muppet like dog for the arrival of their human sibling?” Those are the things we should be asking.

Those things are not being asked and checked. Our dream lost its steam on July 7, 2015, Baby E was never meant to be ours. Only a sac developed, it stood empty on the screen, no fetal pole or yolk took up residence, it was the little sac that couldn’t. But our sac held answers, the Doctor says that two sperm fertilized one egg, and that a human only needs 46 chromosomes, not 69. Our baby was a perfect genetic accident, it was just never meant to be ours.

If you know me well, then you know I have a mad love for dinosaurs. This was to be Baby E’s going home outfit with a cardigan and pants of course.

Baby E was an easier pill to swallow, because I had a why behind the “I’m sorry.” With Lucia there was no why or how, he was just gone. His little light went out before it even got a chance to pierce the darkness, Baby E’s light never got a chance to start. My love for them pierces the heavenly skies and paints the colors of the sunrise. My babies they will always be.

I like to believe that Baby E found Lucia in heaven. That my babies are together, playing and waiting for their parents to arrive. That God has a soft spot for babies with to many chromosomes and that Lucia is breaking in his big brother shoes and watching over Baby E. Those two, thou small made a huge impact on this world. They are loved and cherished beyond measure. Lucia is my parent’s first grand child and Baby E is the forth. My parents are looking forward to a fifth, for they are eagerly waiting for us to catch a rainbow.

Baby E is Jay’s first, I have to believe that my third time and Jay’s second time will be the charm. That Jay and I will catch our rainbow and bring a baby home. I’ve picked up a few baby items here and there, I want to make it known to the universe that we would like a baby to put into the clothes and swaddle in the blankets. The stork can drop one off on our doorstep any day now, we are not picky, well even take a freckle face ginger child.

We have hope that one day we will have a viable pregnancy. Jay and I have picked out names for our future child. Our girl name is CoraLeigh Rae and our boy name Olivier James. I know what you are thinking ” knowing AJ, there has to be a story behind these names!?” There is and there are stories.

 

Ms. Cora M. Linderman 1897 – 1994

 
One day if God grants us the chance to have a daughter CoraLeigh Rae will be named after three people she will never meet. Cora is in honor of the oldest woman I ever knew. She died at 97, 3 years short of her goal to live to 100. Frankly Cora was the best friend a litter girl could ever ask for. Ms. Cora Linderman was a Swedish immigrant, she was the first telephone operator to give instructions for CPR over the phone, she taught me how to play dominos and spent hours entertaining me with her stories, she was mine and I was simply hers. Leigh, is in honor of my Dad’s sister Cherrie Leigh, a woman with a large heart who died to young. An finally her middle name Rae comes from a wild attorney named Charlie Rae, a man whose dream ended far to soon. I want my future daughter to be named after strong individuals because her name will carry their legacy.

I’ve carried a boy and his name is Alucious Gregory, we simply call him Lucia. That name is unique and it is perfectly his. This time I went with an older name, one with strength and meaning. My family started in France, voyagers who crossed the sea, so Olivier was the perfect fit and spelling. Yes I went with the French spelling of the name Oliver. Plus ya know I have a deep dark secret desire of yelling “Olly Olly Oxen Free” at my future son. We’ll call him Olly for short. James comes from my father it is his middle name. It made sense because Lucia’s middle name is my dad’s first name, so if it isn’t broke just continue the tradition on.

My three children togther. The Blue star is for Lucia and the Purple is for Baby E

Jay and I make a point to talk about “when we have a baby,” it helps ease the pain and gives us something to look forward to. I have to believe that God isn’t cruel and that he would not deny me motherhood. I have faith that our rainbow is just on the horizon. One day I will have a due date. One day nine months of blood thinner injection, scans, and constant doctor visits will be worth it. One day I will have a c-section and we will cross the finish line with a baby in our arms as Lucia and Baby E watch over us from heaven.

{I Am A Mother} To An Angel is NOT supportive of all Moms

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  After we lost baby E, I was searching for a connection with other angel mommies and a friend suggested I follow the “I am a mother to an Angel” Facebook page. I took up her suggestion and hit like, I also joined the private group “Awaiting Rainbows: TTC after a loss.” The  ladies in this group were lovely and it let me know I wasn’t the only one struggling to catch a rainbow. 

Five years ago I was treading the waters of grief on my own, none of my friends had lost babies before and no one understood my journey. You never get over the death of a child, you just learn how to live with it. My heart has a hole and his name is Lucia, it became bigger on the day Baby E joined him in heaven. Never in a million years did I think I would have two children in heaven, their deaths were decided the moment I was born, it was written in the cards and fate she is the only one who knows what my hand holds. I no longer question their departure and I will play my hand until the last card is on the table. Each day I face the sun with gratitude and a peaceful heart. 

So many young women are just starting out on the road called grief. Many question and shout why me, why my baby. Those women need to be told that it will be ok and sometimes we don’t have an answer. They need to hear it from a mother who has walked this path before, they need to know she survived, and mostly that she caught her rainbow. In the Awaiting Rainbows group I was an old sage, offering internet hugs and  quietly typing “it’s ok, you never get over the death of a child, you just learn how to live with it” into the comments of their posts. We got excited when someone announced they were pregnant and answered each others questions on TTC. 

Every now and then you’d see a member disappear, “she got banned” someone said. The group Admins watch the page like a hawk and without warning if they do not like your tone or your posts or your comments you are out of there. The creator of “I am a mother to an Angel” claims that all of her groups are inclusive and supportive of its members. If this were true then Admins would not be banning members for their tone, comments or for merely reporting a member for being repetitive and offensive. 

If you ask me the ladies of “Awaiting Rainbows/I am a mother” are selective, she is creating the type of group she wants, one where everything is sparkles and sunshine, and not the group women need. Grief is not perfect. Not all trying to conceive journies are perfect or end up with a live birth. Life is messy, grief is messy, and sometimes trying to catch a rainbow is messy too. 

One day you will realize that the women you banned are the women who needed your support the most and you turned your back on them.  

If you are in need of support please visit:

Hannah’s Heart and Love
Share Pregnancy and Infant Loss Support
Grieve Out Loud
Missing Grace Foundation

{Nuva Ring} She Had to Break, Before She Could Shine

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One email told me that my settlement check had been cut and mailed out. I knew that the post office closed at 5PM, so today wasn’t going to be my ending. I got home at 5:10, breezed past my Birchbox and opened the mail box to find the all important “we missed you card.” The back of the card said the post office was open til 5:30 PM, it was 5:10, I knew I could make it and I did with 8 minutes to spare. Damn it door is locked, I show the man looking out the window my card. He opens it a crack to tell me they are closed, I explained “sir the back of the card says 5:30.” He points to the hours on the door, the door says Close 5:00 PM and 3:30 PM on Saturdays, again I pointed to what the card said. He explained he was the supervisor and they were closed. I had come so close, yet so far from being done.

I could feel the tears fighting through, I looked at the man and said “Sir, I have been waiting six years for this letter, I know waiting one more day won’t hurt, but you see Sir that letter is my closure, its a settlement check, a check I’ve been waiting six years to see. He started to notice the tear rolling down my cheek, he said “here let me look at that, I don’t normally make exceptions, just wait here ok. He closed the door and disappeared inside, he emerged a few minutes later and told me to come in. In his hand was the letter with a logo I have seen dozens of times, but today it meant it was all over, I just needed to sign and closure would finally be mine. I tearfully thanked him for making the exception, explaining he has no idea what his kindness meant to me.

The tears began to fall, I sat in the drivers seat holding the envelope in my hands, quickly realizing that my tears were staining the envelope, I figured I should probably open it. I did, never in a million years did I think I would see this day. Never in a million years did I think I would see a check. It was just this distant far away untouchable thing, that was never meant to be mine. Yet, there it was in my hands, my name was spelled correctly, its mine and mine alone. I was never in this for the money, I am humbled by what I received. The check doesn’t take away what happened or undo the past six years or bring back my son, but in some way it validates that what happened to me was wrong. Merck never had to admit wrong doing, they will not be held accountable for the deaths or thousands of injuries that the Nuva Ring caused, they simply just had to payout and walk away to operate another day.

I never signed up to get rich, I wanted to stand up for myself and to prevent this from happening to anyone else. Having your life change in seconds scars you, it changes you in ways words cannot begin to describe. If I would have known that this little plastic ring would bring me to the brink of death, I would have left it on the prescription pad and asked my doctor for something else. We as humans cannot see into the future nor can we relive the past, we are in this haze called the here and now, it holds us and comforts us, in away it protects us from the journey ahead. Because if we knew our road was going to be lined with pot holes, tears, and fear, we would stop traveling and stay just as we are. October 22, 2009 taught me more lessons than I could ever begin to explain, it taught me to fight for myself and to always listen to my body, because she will never steer me wrong. It taught me to love my friends like sisters, to cherish my family, to dance on the good days and to fight on the bad. Faith is something I always have, as long as she is at my back, I will face the wind and sail the angry seas.

Survival is a funny thing, you go through phases and it is an ever changing sea, no wave nor current is the same. There are moments where I feel guilty because I lived and someone else’s daughter died. One out of five people will survive a pulmonary embolism with infarction, one out of five is a shitty equation if you ask me. I feel guilty that I have no long term physical or cognitive side affects from my Stroke. I see other stroke survivors struggling and my heart breaks, I know why my out come was different than there’s and it kills me inside to know that if they had received TPA there outcome most likely would have been like mine. I am forever in debt to my Woodwinds care team, One question saved me, if the doctor never paused to ask “are you on a birth control,” my mom would have picked out my urn instead of my 27th Halloween themed birthday cake. Woodwinds will always have a place in my heart, because its where my second story began.

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Looking back my second story has been a beautiful disaster. A disaster that is mine and mine alone, I would not trade this journey for anything in the world. On October 22, 2009 I had no idea that one moment would lead me to give a speech on the capital steps in front of members of congress. I had no idea that I would be come a You’re the Cure Advocate and lobby in Washington D.C., I had no idea that I would be a voice that would help get the MN Stroke System of Care passed and funded. I had no Idea that I would be a Go Red Spokeswoman who shined on billboards and a public service announcement. Money doesn’t matter, using your story to make a difference is how you fight back, fighting back is what matters. Merck may never have to admit their wrong doing, but I can tell the world what happened to me, through my story I can save another woman’s life. I can get her to think about her heart health, her risks, and get her to ask her doctor questions, questions that will lead to answers that will improve her quality of care and ultimately her quality of life.

I am who I am because of Merck and the Nuva Ring, they will always be apart of me. In one moment of disaster I found my purpose and I am never leaving my soap box. But the thing is behind every thriving survivor is an amazing village of supporters. I am so grateful to have the worlds greatest best friends, Sherri, Jilliann, Lisa, and Tara never left my side, on the bad days they picked me up and pushed me to go a little bit further. My parents, they are the rock in which I build my house upon, they gave me strength when I had none. My Mama always looked over my INR numbers and medication lists to make sure the doctors were treating me correctly. My Dad and I are like two little old men sitting on a porch discussing chest pain and the days gone by where we could run and fight to live another day. Now we just sit in our rockers and watch the world go by, running is for the young folks and well neither of us would win a fight. My dad has rescued me from more tight spots than I can count, he’s never seen the ocean, he made damn sure that I traveled the globe not once but twice, so I am paying it forward, I am taking my Dad to the seashore, I want him to feel the mist and to stand on the edge of the world.

I got a chance to be the Auntie that I was always meant to be. Sophia and Jack could be learning about me from old photos and their mama’s memories. Because of early intervention and research their Auntie was saved, they get to hold her hand. The day I became an Auntie is the day my heart healed, Sophia and I have been bonded since day one, little Jack is learning all about super Auntie. Those two have my heart and there will always be a surprise for them in my purse. Sophia and Jack are why, there tomorrows are what I am fighting for. Both of them deserve to grow up in a world free of heart disease and stroke.

Blog 2

Second Chances are far from perfect. Lucia was to be the sun after my storm. Instead God had other plans and just as before the winds of change blew through and I had to sail the waves of grief. Losing Lucia allowed me to put myself first, I called it quits and walked out of my loveless marriage. Divorce was not an end, it was merely a beginning. I traded the ex-husband in for a little muppet like dog, which is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. You can never go wrong with a dog. On a hot August day a small white dog with a big gray nose rescued a human and he never looked back. Cullen became the glue that kept me together, as long as I had him at my side, I was never alone. Together we took on uptown, strolled through the parks and picked up glass on the beach. Cullen has provided me with endless laughter, he makes the bad days brighter and life is more fun with a muppet like dog at my side. Cullen was the love that my heart needed.

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Love found its way in, Charlie will always be apart of me, I think that in away Charlie knew that he was not my forever, only a mere moment. He allowed me to be, to heal, and to find myself. Charlie allowed me to believe in love again and when he died, my heart broke. Yet I knew Charlie wanted me to carry on with living and not be stuck in the land of what if. I had to break before I could shine. Jay fell into my in box at the perfect time, my heart it was ready to love again. Jay’s love was the glue that my heart needed. With each date I began to fall for him. In Jay I found home, he has my heart and I have his. Jay joined me on the tail end of the Nuva Ring law suit journey, I am glad that he is at the end, because together we can turn the page and walk away to start a new chapter. Because this is only the beginning the best is yet to come.

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There were moments where I wanted to throw in the towel and give up this fight. But then I looked in the mirror, I faced a woman who lived through the worst day possible. She never thought the birth control she took would almost take her life. She was weary and weathered, yet she still faced the sun. Her womb carried children she never met, yet she still has faith that one day she will hold a baby in her arms. Her heart was broken and jaded, yet she still manages to love. Little did she know, she just had to break before I could shine. I am living on borrowed time, my life it is a beautiful disaster and each day I am standing above ground means that the best is yet to come.

Merck you may have won this battle, but the war, it rages on. I will not give up until there are none, because no woman deserves to fight alone.

{Happy Birthday} Goodbye 32, Hello 33

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I of all people know that with trial comes triumph. We cannot have the good moments without the bad. It’s how the world turns, no one’s life is meant to be perfect. A perfect life is a life not well lived. Mistakes are lessons and trials are our teachers, with each trial we gain strength. 

32, was a gosh darn great year. I have finally found my stride and I’ve come to terms with the fact that “life goes on.” In February I graced billboards, bus stop posters, and the TV screen raising awareness for women’s heart health. Being part of the Go Red Campaign was a privilege and an honor, I got to meet some amazing ladies that I now call my friends.

From billboard to DC, never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be giving a speach on the Capital Steps next to Nancy Pelosi and other members of congress. The American Heart Asssociation, gave me the opportunity to share my health insurance journey with the nation. I got to thank members of congress for securing my healthy tomorrow.

Life, it goes on and love, it finds a way in. Never in a million years did I think year 32 would be the year I fell in love, again. I let myself fall, fall for a man who loves me for me and accepts that our life isn’t meant to be perfect. 

On Mother’s Day Jay and I found out that we were expecting. I was terrified the impossible just became possible. Jay was excited, he spent time looking up baby items online, we started to plan out our nursery, picked out named, and I slowly let myself love our baby. Only to have my dream dashed. 

Our baby, baby E was not meant to be. Right now I should be 6.5 month pregnant, I’m not, our little sac never formed a fetal pole. Two sperms, they said fertilized the egg and a pathology report said it was a partial molar pregnancy. It just wasn’t meant to be, someone needed a baby more than we did, motherhood was so close yet eluded me in year 32. I have faith that my 3rd and Jay’s second pregnancy will be the charm, mother is a job that I desperately want. 

In July it became official I was no longer a single girl, I was engaged, I belonged to someone and that is what I’ve always dreamed of, I wanted to belong and not be alone.

My nephew Jack arrived in July and I fell in love all over again, he has his auntie wrapped around his little finger. Sophia is getting bigger by the day, she is turning into a sassy little lady. I love those two littles with all of my heart, the greatest title I have is Auntie, there is no better job than that. 

32, was my teacher, it taught me to never lose faith and that if I believe in myself anything is possible. I will walk away from 32 knowing that my body is still capable of creating life, my heart she may be weak, but she beats on, and that I am more than a dollar sign. Merck will always be apart of me, year 32 is the end of the Nuvaring’s chapter, life it goes on.

With my muppet like dog by my side, my life quietly fell into place. I have a man that I adore,  I got a new job that I love, and I’ve got hope for a very bright 33.   

{Lucia & Baby E} My Babies You Will Always Be

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  “For as long as I am breathing, my babies you will always be”

In story books, everything is perfect. Girl meets her prince, her prince knocks her up, and nine months later the family of two becomes three. The writers make pregnancy out to be magical and easy. On the pages, every woman gets pregnant, every marriage is a happy one, and every child gets a happy ever after.

I am jealous. Jealous of fertile Myrtle who lives down the lane. For she gets pregnant with ease and carries her babies to term without worry. Blood clots, stroke, and irregular heart beats never cross Myrtle’s mind. She does not have to wonder “should I take my shot at 2pm or wait until I get home?” Myrtle  never has to look up at a screen and hear the words “I am so sorry” as they squeeze her shoulder. Myrtle doesn’t know the heart ache of seeing a lifeless baby on the screen. She does not know what it’s like to have a doctor say “maybe it’s to early, maybe next week we will see a big healthy yolk and a fetal pole!” Myrtle does not have to drive home fighting back tears as she looks in the rear view mirror wondering “why me, why my baby.” 

I desperately want to be Myrtle. I want to be able to not just carry, but to hold my own flesh and blood. To look my living child in the eyes and to watch them grow. After Lucia I had lost all hope, countless times I was told “no more babies.” That pregnancy wasn’t safe for me and that my uterus was to beaten to function. I made peace with my fate, that my only child is in heaven. Lucia will always be my first and I will love him until my last day on earth. My baby he will always be. 

Maybe I just needed time to heal and recover……… On Mother’s Day I looked down at a bright blue plus sign. The impossible, happened. I was terrified and thrilled that my rainbow was on board. I did my best not to get attached. Jay was over the moon and he wanted to be apart of every appointment. We started picking names, planning the nursery, and talking about our future. The excitement was short lived, this rainbow was not meant to be ours. 

This baby wasn’t meant for us. At our first ultrasound an empty sac is all they saw. It measured correctly 6weeks 6 days, but no sign of life was inside. The sac it grew bigger, yet nothing took up residence. No yolk, no fetal pole. I looked up at the sky and I knew that this wasn’t meant to be. Jay said “babes it’s just wasn’t  CoraLeigh.” He secretly wanted a girl and fell in love with the name CoraLeigh. 

My body is a dick and it didn’t want to let go of the pregnancy. I didn’t want a D&C, I held out until it was evident that I wouldn’t misscarry on my own. A plan was made, ultrasound and antibiotics were on deck and on July 7, I went under. Surgery went well, the hysteroscope showed that my uterus was healthy and not bruised. The doctor said “she can and will be able to carry babies.” I can have babies too. Those are the only words I needed to hear. 

Baby E, was more than an empty sac. The pathology exam found that it was a partial molar pregnancy, meaning two sperm fertilized one egg and abnormal cells took over. Jay and I didn’t fail, our little baby just had to many chromosomes, it was a genetic accident, this little one wasn’t meant to be.

I am 2 and 0. God holds my babies. I have my days where I wonder what Lucia would be like today. He would be 5 and in kindergarten. I wonder if he would have my curly hair, or his dad’s eyes, and if his smile could light up a room. If he would be a wall flower or daring like his mom. Lucia was here for a brief moment yet he left foot prints on my heart. My baby he will always be. 

If Baby E had the correct number of chromosomes I would be 6 months pregnant today. We would know if we were expecting CoraLeigh or Oliver. We secretly wanted a girl, but we’ll take anything we can get. Jay and I would be putting the finishing touches on the nursery and picking out the perfect car seat. I would be knee deep in appointments, ultrasounds, and Lovenox injections. I want those things, I desperately want those things. 

Losing a child, makes you want children even more. I want to prove to the world that I am capable of carrying a baby to term and that I am worthy of being  a mom. Jay and I have so much love to give, we are patient and kind, good parents we will surely be. I have faith that my third time and Jay’s second time will be the charm. 

One out of four women will experience pregnancy loss. I never thought I would be the one twice. Never did I think I would be 2 and 0. Babies seem to elude me, yet I have faith that my turn is right around the corner.