{Travel} The Trip That Almost Wasn’t….

Posted on October 2, 2020 by NinjaInTheCity

In April I got a call that no child wants to receive. A call from my mom that my dad was in a head on collision. Those words were all I needed to hear and I was headed to Red Wing.

In my heart I knew it was useless because due to Covid no one, but the patient was allowed in the ER. While on my way a nurse called to ask me some questions about my dad and she said she needed me to come in and talk to him. I asked her why and she said “the doc will explain everything to you when you get here.”

On the surface he looked like his normal grumpy old self. He had some bruises and scratches, so to me he seemed ok. Then the doc came in and started explaining his Troponin level was off the charts and that he needed to be sent down to Mayo.

I stood by and watched as the EMTs loaded him up and rushed him away. It broke everything in me knowing that I could not follow that ambulance to Rochester. I could try, but there was no way I’d get in. So I did what my dad always says to do in a time of trial, I prayed. I prayed that he was going to be all right and I headed back home.

My dad had his second sudden cardiac arrest. This time it was while he was driving home from our cabin with Ruby (his trusty dog. Ruby did not sustain any injuries in the crash, she walked away unscathed to chase a turkey for another day). The Doctors figure the impact of him hitting the airbag/steering wheel restarted his heart. There is nothing they can do to prevent it from happening again. So we decided to live life, to live a full life because the next time it happens he might not walk away.

In June we had planned to go to Yellowstone, I had to move our trip to September due to his accident and Covid. September finally arrived and I was excited to get this trip underway. This was his first time on an airplane. As the plane lifted I looked over to see him in his seat pretending to fly the plane. I could feel the tears welling up and I fought them as hard as I could. It was in that moment the reality of our summer sunk in. I could have easily been traveling to Yellowstone alone.

It made me realize that these Daddy/Daughter trips will not go on forever. As much as I’d like time to stop, I know it has to end eventually. And that I as his daughter need to fill whatever years he has left with adventure and make memories. I want to have stories that I can tell to my children. Hell I want to be able to take my kiddo on trips with their grandpa, so that they can have stories to share.

In the end when the drip finally stops, all that is left of us is our stories. And I pray that you have people in your life who will continue to tell your stories when you are gone. Charlie used to tell me that “date of birth and date of death don’t matter on a tomb stone. It’s the “dash” between those dates that matters. Some of us chose to die while living and others my friend, they live while their dying. Your dash is your story, it’s the nuts and bolts of a life well lived or a life well mourned.”

Somewhere between the ghost towns of Montana and the valleys of Yellowstone, I added to my Dad’s dash. He kept saying over and over “I never thought I’d see Yellowstone. This is a trip of a lifetime.” he was right, this was a trip of a lifetime for him. We set out for Yellowstone in 2019, but only made it to the entrance due to car trouble. We vowed that day to come back, to come back and finish what we started. When I parked in the exact spot our trip ended in 2019, my dad looked around and looked at me and said “We completed our task!”

Indeed we did and all I have to say is Yellowstone is beautiful beyond measure and the mountains of Montana speak to your soul like no other place can. I would take this trip with him a million times over, including the tiny cabin with a broken heater that we stayed in.

If you have a dad don’t take your time with him for granted, for he is not immune to growing old. Take the time today to start making memories. It doesn’t have to be some grand trip, it could be lunch or even just a walk in the park. Memorize his every word so that one day when he is gone you can pass his stories on. Even the highly inappropriate stories. Even the ones that make you cringe a little. When he is gone from this world his words will matter and you will be thankful that you have them to keep you company.

And as for my dad, I thank God every darn day for his third chance at life. I could not imagine this world without him and travel just wouldn’t be the same. He is and will always be my road trip buddy.

{Survivorhood} Year Nine

Posted on October 22, 2018 by NinjaInTheCity

Nine.

I can still remember exactly what I was wearing on the day my world broke. Gray cardigan, white button down peasant top, jeans, and cranberry ballet flats. The shoes, I still have them. They are worn and raggedy, I just can’t let them go. Those shoes carried me in the ER and they walked me out days later. Those shoes are a symbol that I survived the worst day possible.

Every day I am reminded that four had to die so I could be the one out of five who walked away. I live each day for those who no longer can. I live each day for the women who lost their lives to the Nuvaring. Those women are my battle cry and I will not rest until there are none. Those women have given me more strength than I ever thought possible.

I survived because God, he wasn’t done with me. God knew my strength before I did. God gave me a second chance and I have cherished each day to the fullest. Fate, she’s a funny one and I know that everything I have lived through was apart of her plan. That this plan isn’t mine and only Fate knows where I am going. I cling to every drop of borrowed time and thank God for every day I rise. For I know this second life of mine is an incredible gift.

On October 22, 2009 I made a choice. A choice to not be a victim. A choice to thrive and live a life worth telling. I want a life filled with incredible experiences and stories that will keep me company when I’m old. I made a choice to stand up and be a voice against the darkness. A voice to bring awareness to a cause and educate those around me about the side effects of hormonal contraceptives. My voice will not be silenced until there are none. I have work to do and I will not rest until there are none. One day there will be none and on that day I will take off my white hat and rest.

This past year was filled with heartache and joy. I became a mama to my 3rd sleeping son. Emmett James left this world before his feet ever touched my hands. I am grateful for the experience and I am thankful to be his mom. When sadness fades to joy life begins. I got to watch Sophia and Jack turn one year older. There faces bring joy to the darkness of the night. I am grateful that I survived and get to hear their little voices say “Auntie! Auntie! Auntie!” They are my world and I am there’s.

I spent my weekends traveling form place to place with my dad at my side. No matter the destination he was game. We went to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula; Mackinac Island; The Badlands; Mount Rushmore; Crazy Horse; Wyoming; Jeffer’s Petroglyphs; Milwaukee; Racine; Hayward; Effigy Mounds National Monument; Crowing Wing State Park; Door County; Washington Island; and the North Shore. This summer we traveled more than most people do in a lifetime. Much wine and booze was bought and we have memories to last us until the end of time.

My dad isn’t the only one who got in on the road trip fun. I traded my dad in for Jay! We made our usual pilgrimage to WI Dells and we ventured west to South Dakota and Wyoming. This year was the year of travel and my heart is happy. I am the trip planner in our family. I plan and Jay just comes along for the ride. That is what I love about him, he’s up for anything as long as I’m involved.

My heart she is thankful. Thankful that I got a second chance at this thing called life. This second chance taught me to live in the moment. Fate has taught me to let the little things slide and stand up for the big things. I have more hope and faith than most people. For I’ve seen God work. Long ago I stopped asking “why me,” instead I stand up and ask “why not me.” I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason and God knows what he’s doing. Research, saved my life and it will continue to save the lives of others. We need to believe in research and fund research so that others can have my outcome. So that they too can have a chance at living in a beautiful disaster.

YEAR #9:

For the past nine years I’ve asked for motherhood. This year I am just asking to be HAPPY. Happy with myself. Happy with my work and life. I want to feel joy and give joy. I want to be that person whose happiness is addictive and strengthening. That beacon we flock to on a bad day and the one we laugh with on a good day. I simply want to be happy.

{Emmett} Walk Boldly with Answers

Posted on July 15, 2018 by NinjaInTheCity

Over the past couple of months I have been checking the boxes in preparation for our upcoming transfer. I saw the hematologist, she was very informative and shared that Lovenox does in deed cross the placenta. That information was both a blessing and a curse. A curse because it could mean that Emmett’s demise was due to Lovenox. We will of course never know for sure why Emmett died, everything is in theory.

On Tuesday I met with a new perinatologist and the first question she asked me was “why were you on 80 units a day?” I honestly didn’t know. I did what the previous doctor told me to do. Although I did question the 80 units, again I was told because of my history 80 was the dose I needed. Turns out AJ doesn’t need 80 units…….she only needs 40. 40 fucking units is all I need. 80 units was to high for someone with my history and my weight. An 80 unit dose is for someone who has a clotting disorder or a BMI of 50.

Two weeks before Emmett’s heart stopped I increased the dose to 80 units. Emmett most likely bled to death, his little body couldn’t handle the Lovenox. Only Emmett knows how he died. I only know that he was genetically perfect and there is no reason for his leaving. In this moment I wish I had fought harder to change the dose. Then again I went along with what the doctor said to do and in the end it didn’t save Emmett nor did it help me.

Am I angry!? Of course I am angry. I am angry that no one would listen to me. That the doctor didn’t take a moment to really look into my history to see what and why my blood clot happened. I am angry that she shoved me into a box and pounded me until I fit the mold. In my gut I knew 80 units was to high. I should have just nodded my head and continued on with 40 instead of 80 units. If I did, maybe Emmett would still be here and I’d be seven months pregnant. I cannot go backwards, I cannot weigh the what if’s, I can only go forward, forward with a broken heart.

My heart she is broken. Yet she is relieved that someone with MD behind their name finally listened to her. We have a plan, a very good plan and with a little luck we will bring a baby home. The new Lovenox dose is 40 units a day with no increase along with a side of prednisone, baby aspirin, and anti-biotics. With a little luck this protocol will be our ticket to a take home baby.

Emmett taught me to continue to advocate for myself and to fight for what my gut knows. Just because a doctor is a doctor doesn’t mean they know everything. I am a walking talking example of “fuck, we messed up her care!” I of all people know what it’s like to be discounted and unheard. I know what it’s like to hear the words “um Im sorry but your pulmonary embolism and stroke didn’t need to happen.” I know what it’s like to be misdiagnosed and have forged a path in the aftermath. And I will not be silent, I will walk boldly with answers and I am not going to dwell on what might have been, I can only carry hope for what could be.

{Hearts on 22} National Stroke Awareness Month

Posted on May 1, 2018 by NinjaInTheCity

On October 22, 2009 I almost died five days before my 27th Birthday. I found myself in the ER unable to breath with unbearable chest pain. A CT scan revealed a clot the size of a ten cent gum ball lodged in the valve that connects my left lung to my heart. My oxygen level was below 50%, my heart was in sinus tachycardia and I was fighting for my life. To make matters worse my blood pressure kept rising and suddenly I lost my words, the staff sprung into action, TPA was administered and my life was saved. I had survived a massive pulmonary embolism with infection and a stroke due to the third generation progesterone in my birth control, the Nuvaring.

At 26 Stroke wasn’t on my radar and until that day I had no clue what a pulmonary embolism was. Strokes happened to old people not young professionals. That day taught me that strokes can happen at any age and your risk is higher if you are taking hormonal contraceptives. My OBGYN never once mentioned that my birth control could possibly kill me, she just wrote the script, shoved it in my hand and went on her merry way.

I could have spent the past almost nine years in hiding. As in not telling a soul I had a stroke because well on the outside I look perfectly normal. I was lucky, I got the clot busters in time and I walked away unscathed. Many of my survivor counterparts are not so lucky, they have physical and mental impairments. Impairments that could have been prevented if they had received treatment in time. This haunts me, some days I wonder why I was the lucky one and on other days I say “why not me!?”

This life I lead is borrowed. I wish I could say it was perfect, but it’s not. I am living a perfectly imperfect life. This second chance is mine and mine alone to live. I made the choice to live my Stroke out loud. My story and willingness to fight this battle has landed me on billboards, fashion shows, tv commercials, news paper articles, magazine articles, and in DC. Oh the places your stroke will take you. Even I have to pause for a moment and think “holy shit AJ you’ve like made a difference!” A difference I have made, because what happened to me is 100% preventable.

That’s right what happened to me was 100% preventable. I had gone to the doctor a week prior with symptoms of a blood clot in my leg. The doctor told me to “drink more water and walk more.” One week later to the day I found myself in the ER fighting for my life. If only my doctor had listened to me. All the doctor had to do was order a d-dimer test. If that test had been ordered the doctor would have caught the blood clot before it found its way to my lung and brain. It’s been almost nine years and that still gets me the most, that this, pulmonary embolism and stroke of mine was 100% preventable.

{Infertile Me} Take a seat, let’s get real

Posted on April 10, 2018 by NinjaInTheCity

I know what you are wondering “did snow pea’s results come back?” Umm nope, the wait still continues. Right now the lab is taking 3 to 6 weeks to complete the testing and provide the results. Trust me I ask the doctor at least once a week if he’s heard anything and it’s been a big fat nope. So we wait.

I am really good at waiting and waiting some more. During this wait, I’ve decided to leave no stone unturned and to go into our final transfer with as much knowledge as humanly possible. I will be meeting with a hematologist in early May to discuss my old friend Lovenox. I personally don’t think I need it, but people with medical degrees feel that I do. I am in an odd spot, I don’t fit in a box, and the doctor just shoved me in one with a Lovenox prescription. The dose is a major question and issue. Just like with Lucia, snow pea’s heart stopped a week after I increased the dose. The manufacture says Lovenox is safe for pregnant women and that it doesn’t cross the placenta. But let’s be real, anything a woman consumes can possibly cross that magical thing called a placenta. I also know one shouldn’t leak like a sieve after injecting themselves or have the injection sites randomly bleed through out the day. White shirts and I were no longer on speaking terms, hello darkness my old friend. I don’t want to be shoved in a box, I want a protocol that is tailored to me and my weird ass body. Why? Because I have no clotting factors, my blood clot was a total fluke, I drew the short straw and my life hasn’t been the same.

IVF is much the same as Lovenox protocols. It’s a one size fits all approach and if you don’t fit, they will make you fit. Very few reproductive endocrinologists are willing to reinvent the wheel. They prescribe the same protocols over and over again. I have no complaints here, we got 3 embryos from our protocol and we did get pregnant. It’s just Snow Pea’s heart stopped without notice or known reason. It just stopped and I have yet to carry a baby to term. At the moment we are tossing around first trimester bed rest, reduced Lovenox dose, and an antihistamine protocol to keep my inflammation down. Will it work? Who knows. I’ve got one last shot at a bio child and I am not willing to blow it on junk science and voodoo.

Speaking of fit, if I fit, I sits. Dexter the cat taught me that and right now this mama doesn’t fit in any boxes…. This mama has fallen off of the healthy wagon and needs to chase that fucking thing down and jump back on. A few years ago I had success on weight watchers. I had lost about 20 pounds before I found out I was pregnant with baby E and then shit just went down hill from there. Losing babies is hard and cupcakes and carbs were my friends. We got along a little to well and mama’s waistline expanded a little to much. This morning I put in my card info and signed my ass back up. I am officially on the wagon and I am not getting off until I am pregnant again.

I am starting this journey at 241 pounds (yup I just wrote that number out loud). This is the biggest I have ever been. I’m not happy, I feel sluggish and I wish I could blame my now juicy ass (juicy as in plump, not, get your head out of the gutter) on the IVF meds. But I can’t, because this mama loves cupcakes, cookies, fancy coffee, carbs, yes give me all the carbs and I despise vegetables and anything that screams “I’m HEALTHY!” This has got to change because I want my body back. I am not aiming to be thin, I just want to be me, a healthy me. If I can get to 200 by the time transfer day arrives, awesome, if I’m still pushing 230 to 220 that’s cool too, because at least I know I’m working darn hard to get there.

{Hearts On 22} Rally For Research

Posted on August 1, 2017 by NinjaInTheCity

Somewhere in this country a woman is experiencing the worst day of her life. She is in pain, she is scared, and she will never be the same. In the coming days, weeks, and months she will learn that her birth control was the cause of her worst day. That her birth control caused her stroke or heart attack or blood clot or pulmonary embolism. She knows it was her birth control because she survived. Many families never learn why their wife, mother, daughter, sister or friend suddenly died. They live their lives only knowing that she is simply gone.

Gone. If it were not for my fast acting care team, I would be resting in a little urn on a shelf. My mom literally came this close (shows fingers) to picking out my urn instead of my 27th Halloween themed birthday cake. I was lucky, I was the 1 out of 5 who survived a massive pulmonary embolism with infarction that lead to a stroke. Because of research I saw my 27th themed Halloween birthday cake, it had a jack o lantern on it and it was perfect. I survived my worst day possible.

I was weak, I felt cheated, and I was angry that my life was gone. I had to learn how to live in a new normal of Lovenox injections, INR draws, warfarin sodium, to many pills to count, doctors appointments and CT scans. I wasn't living the life of a 27 year old, I was living the life of someone much much older. Yet it was my life to live and I had one choice: "survive or give in." I chose to survive.

Survival is not perfect. This second chance I live is pretty fucking messy and hella awesome at the same time. I put on a red dress and never looked back. The American Heart Association gave me a platform to share my story, they put the voice back into the survivor and Now my story is saving lives. I meet women who come up to me and say I heard your story and I decided to talk to my doctor about my risks and what birth control is safe for me. That right there makes my little heart sing. I can't go back and change my story, but I can share mine to change someone else's story.

We know that my massive pulmonary embolism with infraction and stroke were caused by my hormonal contraceptive, but we don't know why. At the time I was healthy, I did not smoke, I wasn't over the age of 35, I wasn't over weight, yet it happened. Further testing showed that I was negative for Factor V along with a whole host of other genetic conditions that lead to clothing. I was genetically perfect, yet some how some way it happened to me.

If scientist can figure out why it happened to someone it shouldn't statistically happen to, we can stop it from happening in other women. In order to find that why, we need funds for research. The government is the largest financial contributor for medical research and if those funds get scraped my why goes out the window. The ability to save thousands upon thousands of lives goes up in smoke. You and I we can make a difference, reach out to your congressman & women and tell them that you support the funding of medical research. Come to the MN capital on Saturday @ 1:00PM central time and stand with us as we rally for medical research. Bring a poster, yell at the top of your lungs and make a difference, help us secure our healthy tomorrows.

Mostly let's face it, without research we are dead in the water, our doctors are only as good as the researchers who stand behind them and without them we have nothing.

{Go Red} My Father will always be why

Posted on February 7, 2017 by NinjaInTheCity

In February we focus on women’s hearts. But this month isn’t just for me, it’s for my Daddy too.

15 years ago I was in college in Ladysmith WI, I called home to talk to my Dad. My sister answered, she said “he’s sleeping.” I pleaded with her to wake him up so I could talk to him. She was persistent and uttered “Dad isn’t here, he’s in the hospital.” My heart sank and I hung up.

When I finally go through to my mom she told me it didn’t look good. His heart was sick. I took to my knees and prayed with every fiber I had. I asked God to spare my father’s life. At 19 I couldn’t imagine a world without my father. I needed him at my side to tell me that this to shall pass. My rock was fading and all we could do was fucking pray and wait.

When my dad arrived at Mayo he had a survival score of “zero.” His heart was beating so fast it just fluttered in his chest. Congestive Heart Failure and aortic fibrillation was to blame. The doctors prepared my Mama for the worst. She lied like all mothers do and told us he was going to be alright. I was a mess and couldn’t think straight in class. My body was in Wisconsin but my heart was in Minnesota.

Two weeks later that zero walked out of the front doors of Saint Mary’s and he never looked back. Today February marks his 15th survuvior anniversary. With every beat of his heart he steals time from the sandman and keeps death at bay. We know each day isn’t spoken for and that only the good lord knows if we will see the next sunrise. He lives with faith in his heart and appreciates every second of his borrowed time.

Borrowed years are a gift. My father has lived to see his daughter graduate from college, he was the proudest father in the arena. He walked his daughters down the isle and held me as I cried into his should on the day I found out my son had died. He’s picked up the pieces after our divorces and was the glue that our hearts needed. He stood by my side as I fought for my life and put his arm around me when we found out that I inherited his heart. I’ve watched him hold his second and third born grandchild for the very first time while morning his first. He is the ultimate road trip companion and dinner buddy. As long as a ride is involved he’s game.

Borrowed time is all but rosy. My father looked on as doctors fought to save my life. Blood clots are no joke and strokes they are even worse. He taught me how to inject myself with blood thinners, “make sure you clean the area real good” he said. Little by Little I got stronger and I never looked back. My dad’s face lit up when he saw me on a billboard and in a TV commercial promoting heart health. He tearfully watched the video of my speech in DC, his surviving heart was so very proud. Those teary eyes looked on as I strutted down the runway and shared my story at the fashion show. All because his heart, it saved mine.

My father’s heart saved mine. If it weren’t for his broken heart I never would have gotten involved with the American Heart Association. If I hadn’t gotten involved I would never have learned that women have different symptoms than men and that cardiac events can happen at any age. In one moment I became the very surivivor I advocated for and I’ve never looked back.

Because of my father I am alive today. Because he lived, his heart saved mine. Because of his heart and the research they are conducting my future looks fucking bright. I’ve followed in my father’s footsteps, he was 50 when his heart gave out, I am 34 and I am not afraid to tread down his path. For I know having high levels of C-reactive protein is no longer a death sentence, it allows us to go boldly into the night and wakeup to a beautiful painted sunrise.

{Go Red} For Women’s Health

Posted on February 2, 2017 by NinjaInTheCity

The Go Red campaign focuses on women’s heart health which is the number one killer of women. I suffered a stroke, a stroke that came after my pulmonary embolism was discovered. Sure a blood clot is not a cardiac event, but it still is an event. An event that only 1 out of 5 survive.

If you ask me those odds are shitty. Fuck only one out of five people who have a P.E. will survive. That statistic is one I cannot escape and it haunts me to this day. I am the ONE out of FIVE. I’ve lived seven borrowed years on this earth and I’ve done my best to make every second count. I cannot undo the events of October 2009, I can only move past them.

Five days before my 27th birthday I drove myself to the ER. My chest felt like it was being split open and I could barely breathe. I collapsed as soon as I got inside and woke up to a nurse telling me “well you are not having a heart attack and you can either help me take your clothes off or I can cut them off.” I opted to help. I was confused and gasping for air. Every breath I took ripped through my body. I’ve never been in labor but I imagine the pain I was feeling is on that level. The ER doctor told me that my oxygen level was below 50% and he was leaning towards an infection in my lungs. He was going to run some tests. As he headed toward the door he stopped and asked “are you on a birth control?”

I uttered yes and he explained about the d-dimer test and that it checked for possible blood clots. He was certain it wasn’t that, he just wanted to check to be sure. The lab came in and took my blood. It would be a bit before the results came back. As I was being taken to x-ray the Doctor stopped us and stated “put her back in her room she doesn’t need an x-ray.” I thought this meant it wasn’t serious and I was on my way home. He calmly explained “the d-dimer came back positive. We need to do a CT scan to look at your chest to check for any blood clots. The contrast dye if you are allergic to it it could kill you. But it’s your best option.”

I looked at him and said “I might die either way right?” And signed my name to the consent form. The Radiology Tech said it would take about an hour for the results to come back. I waited and listened to the clock tick the minutes away. Thirty minutes went by, I heard a phone ring and the doors voice in the hall. I only made out “shit! You have to be kidding me!” Followed by a page for extra staff to the ER. Then I heard foot steps, lots of them running towards my little room. The doctor popped in and explained “you have a pulmonary embolis.” I stared at him blankly and he explained “you have a blood clot the size of a ten cent gumball blocking the valve from your left lung to your heart. Blood and oxygen can’t get through.”

Those words were a lot to process. In that moment I did not fully comprehend the shit I was in and how bad it was. He explained I needed blood thinners and that I would be in the hospital for a while. He stepped out for a moment to put in RX orders. And that is when I lost my words. My body felt strange, it felt like I was sinking and I couldn’t get my words out. The heart monitor started beeping and everyone was frantically moving around. My blood pressure was well above 200 and I was fading. Clot busters, TPA to be exact were ordered and given, my stroke was stopped right in it’s tracks and my life was spared. I live with the knowledge that I almost died 5 days before my birthday.

I became accustomed to my new life. A life of blood thinners, scans, diet change, and never ending doctors appointments. I was angry and bitter. I wanted to put a why behind the how. I wanted to know why this happened to me and how I could prevent others from enduring my fate. To this day the answer is still hard to swallow.

Truth: my pulmonary embolism and stroke were 100% preventable. The blood clot was caused by the progesterone in the Nuvaring, my birth control. One week before this occurred I had my annual check up and I told my doctor that I was feeling unusually tired, had redness and warmth on my upper leg. She ignored my symptoms and told me “oh just go home drink some water and walk more.” Since she didn’t think anything of it, I didn’t either. Boy was I wrong. I now know I had all of the classic signs of a potential blood clot and that a simple d-dimer test could have caught the clot before it reached my lung and brain. My whole ordeal could have been prevented if only my doctor had truly listened to me that day.

I go Red for women’s health. All of us need to realize that we know our bodies better than anyone. We know when something isn’t right and we need to listen to our guts. It’s time we put our health first and push for the answers that we need. Our symptoms are and will always be different from men, because hello we are not men. It breaks my heart to know that young women are often dismissed. We shouldn’t be, blood clots, heart disease and stroke do not know age and they can occur at anytime. Love yourself! Make a doctors appointment and make sure you are being heard. If one doctor won’t listen keep on pressing until you find someone who does. You only have one life, one heart, and you deserve the very best.

Don’t be like AJ, she didn’t push for answers and almost died 5 days before her 27th birthday.

{Go Red} A Chance at Motherhood is Why I Go Red

Posted on January 20, 2017 by NinjaInTheCity

Looking up at my children. The blue balloon is in honor of Lucia and the purple balloon is for Baby E. My babies they will always be

I am the mother of two babies. My babies do not walk this earth, instead they paint the colors of the sunrise. Lucia would be 7 years old and Baby E would have just turned one. I would have my hands full. My arms are not filled with children, instead they are filled with hope. When you are the mother of angles a part of your broken heart lies in heaven. It’s a hard job and it’s one you don’t get to choose, it chooses you instead.

I didn’t choose to have a pulmonary embolism or a stroke, it chose me and I’ve never looked back. 6 months after it chose me I found out I was pregnant. Like really pregnant, whoops “I was pregnant and I didn’t know it.” I lovingly called the baby little bear. It was a boy, a boy who died quietly in my womb. He was safe, he was loved, he will always be my first. Lucia, my baby you will always be.

After a baby dies you have this strong desire to get pregnant again. To rewrite history and prove to yourself that you can carry a baby to term. To prove that God found you worthy of motherhood. But what happens when you are told “it’s not wise for someone with your history to get pregnant……” You get angry, you cry, and then you slowly come to terms with it. You pray that science will catch up with you and that this cruel joke will be over and you will have your rainbow.

Five years after my stroke my rainbow came. Again doctors said “you will be high risk. We need to watch you closely, blah, blah, and blah.” We got excited, that excitement just like before dwindled when an empty sac appeared. Our baby, my rainbow was not meant to be mine. Baby E wasn’t meant to be ours. My rainbow slipped through my fingers and renewed my desire for motherhood. Baby E, my baby you will always be.

Babies are always at the back of my mind. I have names picked out and plans laid out. Jay and I tried for a year with no luck. Who knew a rainbow was so hard to catch. So I started down the path of fertility screening. I am now on a first name basis with the ultrasound wand, needles, and x-ray machine. I am fertile like myrtle who lives down the lane, yet my body can’t get intune. They say the nuvaring is most likely to blame, but we will never know for sure. In the past I was told “fertility meds are not for you.” Which makes sense since it’s recommended that I never use birthcontrol again. Hello blood clot creating hormones! Until now……….Science!

Science! Finally caught up with me. Medical research is a beautiful thing and now I can has a baby too! In October we tried a combo of Femera and Ovidrel with no luck. In February we are going to the next level, Femera and ovidrel with IUI. I can has an IUI too! Motherhood was a thing I could never touch, it eluded me and now I have her in my crosshairs. Because of medical research it’s within my reach.

My pregnancy (when it happens) will be different too. Back in the day doctors believed in large doses and starting lovenox early. Today we will still be starting as soon as I get a plus sign, but the dose will grow along with my pregnancy. We will start with a shit ton of monitoring and a small dose of lovenox until we build up to the higher dose when I am 7 months along (that’s if my body needs it). There is still a chance that our baby could be born lovenox dependent and that I could have a clot, but for me the risk is worth the reward.

Because of research and medical technology I will be able to have a healthy pregnancy too. Not all survivors get a chance at motherhood. In a lot of cases the risk is far greater than the reward. My heart breaks for them. I know the ache they feel and I know what it’s like to look up and wonder “why me?” All it takes is one look at a baby bump to make you feel less than. The baby isle and shower invites are a reminder of your inability to have children. They are a reminder of what was taken from you. We did not choose this road, the road chose us and we have to walk it until our time runs out.

I once belonged to that club, then I got lucky. Science and technology caught up with me. Because of research Femera was found to aide in ovulation by decreasing the estrogen levels without increasing progesterone. The Progesterone in the nuvaring is what caused my blood clot. The likelihood of a blood clot event on Femera is low and I don’t know about you but, I like low. I am a survivor, a survivor who is standing on the cusp of motherhood.

In my heart I know that this time I will bring a baby home. Heaven has two pieces of my heart and it’s time for a third to live on this earth. One thing I am certain about is that the doctors will learn from my fertility treatments and pregnancy and that information will help other women like me bring home a healthy baby. That right there makes all of this worth it.

I go Red for the survivors who will never get to be mothers.

{2016} Life Found Its Way In

Posted on December 29, 2016 by NinjaInTheCity

2016 was about learning to let go of my single girl shoes so that I could walk comfortably in my relationship shoes. I no longer buy groceries for one, I actually buy vegetables and things that I have no intention of eating but I know Jay will. It’s about yelling “Cully stop trying to hump your brother (Dexter the bitchy cat) while making dinner for two. Doing laundry for two, watching Netflix while eating Chinese, and walking out to a light house because why not. Sharing thoughts and feelings before you drift off to sleep only to be awakened by the snorasours who is inhabiting the left side of the bed. Coming home to surprises and finding the kitchen to be spotless when you open the door after a long day. It’s the little things in relationships that matter. The little things are what allow us as humans to smoosh two big lives into one life.

2016 was the year the “mass engine failure” light popped up on the 2002 Prius dash board. The Prius barely made it to the shop. I was hopeful that my trusty sidekick could be fixed. I wanted it to be fixed because I am simply not me without a Prius to drive. Then the call came “its in the hybrid system and it will be expensive to fix.” Those words broke my heart. I called my dad about twenty times that day, we weighed out the options and he said “maybe it’s time for a new one?” I gasped at those words. A new one! A new one! I want mine, I haven’t hit my 300,000 mile goal yet. We still have some road trips left! My dad replied “it’s time.” Capital one sent me an email earlier in the week saying I was approved for an auto loan. Though I’ve never had a car loan in my life or such a big responsibility. I window shopped online. I need a Prius, not a new one, but a new to me Prius. A used one. As luck would have it a 2013 seaglass pearl Prius popped up. The shade was just a tad darker than my original Prius. It was meant to be mine, I bought her, and she is amazing.

What happened to the old one you ask? It sat at the shop for almost a month when I decided to throw in the towel and have them impound it. The title was in the ex-husbands name and well I wasn’t going to get the fine and fees so I didn’t care. But then my phone rang, the mechanic, his name is Fred asked if he could have it. Knowing I would get practically nothing for a trade in or resale, I handed him the keys. I gave him my beloved well dented old Prius for free. Fred is smart and good at what he does, he breathed life into my old Prius and got it running again. I wave at it every time I drive by the shop and see it in the parking lot. Seriously people I do! It’s like seeing an old friend.

Sophia turned four and Jack turned one. Being an auntie is a gift. I get to watch this two Little’s grow into tiny humans with heart and guts. Also Sophia loves riding in auntie’s new car, mainly because she thinks it talks. She doesn’t realize the voice she hears is Siri being projected through the speakers to tell me where to go. One day she will figure it out and my car will loose its magic.

Jay and I took the kids to the county fair and watched their faces light up as we walked around looking at animals while noshing on funnel cake and hot dogs. Sophia found her brave shoes at the fair. She and I road down the big slide. As we climbed up steeper and steeper she said “auntie I don’t think I can do this.” I said, we are going to do this tongeher Sophia. She happily sat on my lap as we raced down the slide. When we hit the bottom she immediately wanted to go again and we did.

Kids have been on my mind a lot this year. We tried with no luck. In the fall I finally put my big girl pants on and sat down with a reproductive enocrnologist. We made a plan. Our plan didn’t work and now we move on to level two. I am still trying to wrap my head around sperm washing and inter uterine injection. I picture the nurses picking up the little sperm to wash their bellies and putting them back in a tub. I know this isn’t exactly what happens, it’s science. In away I’ll kind of be like the Virgin Mary, I’ll get pregnant without bumping the uglies. Stay tuned for further updates in 2017. I think 2017 is totally going to be my year. I can feel it in my soul. Fingers crossed!

In 2016 I found my travel shoes again. In the spring I took my Dad to Southwestern Iowa and Omaha Nebraska. We spent the weekend looking at World War I era planes and touring distilleries. Jay and I returned to Wisconsin Dells and took a trip to the north shore in September. My mom for years has been bugging me to take her to Madison County Iowa. We went in October and spent the weekend touring the covered bridges and drove down to Omaha for a day. In December I took a work trip to Ohio and Kentucky. It felt good to travel again, to explore, and tick of miles on the new to me Prius.

2016 had a little red in it to. In February I was invited to walk in the Hearts For Fashion Show at the Mall of America during the Go Red Expo. I didn’t trip and I owned that run way! Well I feel apart a little inside when I looked over to see the misty eyes of my parents and Jay. Sherri was there too! Did I ever mention that I have the worlds greatest best friend!? Truly I do! Every survivor needs a confidant in life and she is mine. We’ve been friends for almost 10 years. The show was fun and I had a blast walking in it. Sharing my story allows me to heal.

2016 is the year my life actually felt like a life. I have a career that I love and I admit I think riding the bus to work is fun. I have a boss who appreciates me. I’ve changed zip codes. I’ve settled into relationshiphood and our home in the burbs. Though my crap is still hap hazardly stacked in the garage, I’ll unpack one day. Motherhood is no longer a mystical thing, but an actual tangible thing that is within my reach. It’s just going to take a little work. Life feels good, I have the life that was always waiting for me and I am never looking back.

Have Bear Will Travel

She had to break, so I could shine

Category Archives: Heart Health