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

Posted on January 21, 2016 by NinjaInTheCity

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

Posted on January 7, 2016 by NinjaInTheCity

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

Posted on December 29, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

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

Posted on November 13, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Posted on October 27, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

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.

{Hearts on 22} Life, It Goes On

Posted on October 22, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

“Dear 26 year old Self,

If I had known what was going to happen today I would never have gotten out of bed. But you being the optimist got up, you put your cranberry colored flats on, left a half eaten muffin on the counter, guzzled some coffee, and drove off to work. You just started a new job, a new challenge always gets us excited you were knee deep in learning the ins and outs of repossessions and collections. Because you were knee deep in lets face it we were trying to impress our new boss, so we brushed off our gut feeling that something was wrong.

Since Monday you brushed away the sick feeling, the raging pain, fever, shortness of breath, and everything else you did not have time for. You made it to the Sun Ray shopping center, you started to feel an annoying stab in your lugs, you being you ignored this. The situation did not improve and by the time you reached Saint Paul you could barely breath. Yet for some reason you thought you’d be all right, truth is you were not all right. Something in you made you take the Lexinton Parkway exit and head back to Woodbury.

Turning around was the best decision you made that day. You contemplated going home, the voice in your head said go to the ER, thank God you listen to it. Within an hour you were told that your situation looked bleak, your chance of walking out of there alive was slim. Your oxygen level was below 50%, a massive clot was blocking the main valve to your heart, and not to mention a few of your lung sacks exploded, and to top it off you had a stroke. You my dear almost died five days before our golden birthday.

Year 26 was to be the end of your story, but something in you decided “today is not the day” and you reached down to grab the last shred of hope you had and fought back. You AJ got the best birthday present. It did not come in a box with a fancy bow nor did it have a pretty gift tag, you got a second chance, you got life. There is no greater gift than the gift of life. Smile young lady, you are the 1 out of 5 who got to walk away and live another day.”

Life, it goes on.

There are not enough words in the English language to describe how amazing my survivor journey has been. I have gotten to do a lot of incredible things that would not have been possible without the fast action of the Woodwinds ER team, nurses and staff. I am alive today because they looked past the norm and dug deeper to find out why this healthy young woman could no longer breath.

The clot was found because the Doctor took the time to ask me five little words: “are you on birth control?” Those five words saved my life, because I said yes a d-dimer was order, that test lead to the CT scan that found the massive clot in my left lung. I have no long term cognitive or physical side affects from my stroke because I received the life saving clot busters, they made all the difference and allowed me to walk out of that hospital on my own.

Ever since that day I set out into this world to make sure no other woman had to endure my fate, I have succeeded in this. My story has educated and saved countless lives. “Oh the places a birth control related P.E. and Stroke will take you!” From billboard, to public service announcement, to the steps of the United States Capital building, my story has been heard loud and clear, and my struggles are paving the way so that others can know the sign of blood clots and stroke.

I do not consider myself a victim and I refuse to live in the Nuvaring’s shadow, I am a survivor and Merck can never take that away from me. It doesn’t matter that Merck does not have to accept responsibility for my injury, I know that there product did this me. In away that moment of disaster catapulted me into an amazing second chance that is filled with passion and purpose. Nuvaring almost took my life, it will not take my second chance away from me, that is mine and mine alone.

Life, it goes on. I became a mama to a baby in heaven not once but twice. I got divorced, rented my first apartment ever, adopted a dog, quit my job without a plan, only to find a job that I hands down love, and I managed to find MYSELF. I got to watch my niece take her first steps, hear her little voice yell “AUNTIE” excitedly, and mostly I get to bond with her as I paint her little toes pretty colors. I’ve gotten to reconnect with my parents through crazy little road trips and spent my summers collecting glass on the beach. I fell love only to fall out of it. I miss Charlie every day, but I have to believe that he somehow lead me to Jay, in Jay I found home and soon I will be his wife. I got to meet and hold my nephew Jack, his sweet little chubby cheeks will melt your heart.

If it were not for the Woodwinds ER staff and medical research the fore mentioned would not have been possible. My niece and nephew would be learning about me through photos. Jay and Charlie would never of had the chance to fall in love with me. There would have been no participating in the Go Red campaign, there would have been no participating in lobby days or giving a speech on the capital steps, and this blog would have ceased on 10/22/2009. My Mama would have picked out my urn instead of my 27th Halloween themed birthday cake, and my story would have ended as silently as it started. I am alive today because of RESEARCH, research is what saved me, and I will support medical research for as long as I am standing. Because if you need proof, its right here, I am proof that it does and will continue to save lives.

Words cannot express how thankful I am for the doctors and nurses at WoodWinds Health Campus, that place is more than a hospital, it is where my second story begins and for that I am grateful, grateful that because of the care I received, I got to walk out of the front instead of being rolled out of the back door.

To learn more about Pulmonary Embolisms and Women’s Heart Health Please visit the following sites:

Pulmonary Embolism: http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/pulmonary-embolism/basics/definition/con-20022849

To learn more about blood clots: http://www.stoptheclot.org/

Women’s Heart Health: https://www.goredforwomen.org/

To learn more about strokes: http://www.strokeassociation.org/STROKEORG/

To join us in the fight for a healthy tomorrow: https://yourethecure.org/aha/advocacy/default.aspx

To learn more about the dangerous side affects of the NuvaRing: http://nuvaringtruth.com/

“Educate yourself and safe a life today”

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

Posted on October 5, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

“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.

{Charlie} Ruin Is A Gift

Posted on September 20, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

A few weeks back I was sitting in a park sipping on a berry white mocha with a dear friend when she brought up the fact that I no longer write about Charlie. She asked me “Do you not love him anymore AJ? Do you not miss him anymore?” The thing about loss is we never stop loving or missing someone. There are moments where I wish he would just pop up and start spewing advice that I don’t think I need. Charlie will always be apart of me and there is no removing him from my story. Charlie showed me and taught me what love was. He allowed me to put faith into another human being, he allowed me to move in a space that I didn’t even understand. The greatest lessons, those lessons came after his death. Ruin is a gift, it allows us to travel the road of transformation.

Earlier in the summer I sat at my sister’s kitchen table playing connect four with Sophia. As I dropped my black checker in the slot, I studied her face, how excited she was, how she knew she was about to win (I let her win), and about how Charlie would give anything to be here. I quickly wiped my tears away so she wouldn’t see and plopped the checker in the slot. It had been three years since I played a game of connect four and I could have sworn Charlie was in the room with us. I thought about Charlie as I held my nephew in my arms, about how he got cheated out of holding his brother Coleman’s babies and of how those babies got cheated out of an uncle.

Life it is unfair, there is no way around that fact, life is not kind to the soul. Some of us have to travel roads littered with loss, while others travel road littered with promise and certainty. I will take the harder road, because on that road I am living, as in truly living. Uncertainty reminds me to live in each moment, to breath in each moment, and to appreciate each day I am allowed to face the sun. No ones tomorrow is promised, all of us are ticking clocks and only fate knows when the last hand will strike. Almost dying taught me to live this way, to live in the here and now and to travel on the road less taken. Losing Lucia taught me that it was ok to be angry with God and it also reminded me that God knows what he is doing.

God does not desert us in the muck of our lives, he stays the course and sees that we come out of the muck changed. Losing Lucia prepare me for losing my second pregnancy. This time I was not angry, in it I found hope. The doctors were wrong. I have hope. Hope, that my body can and will support a growing pregnancy. It was a genetic accident, two sperm fertilized one egg and it just wasn’t meant to be. I walked away from this with faith that my 3rd time and Jay’s 2nd time will be the charm.

Charming, that is one word to describe Charlie, he had his quirks and his skills, but in the end he was charming. He took a broken woman and loved her back to health. In away I think Charlie knew that fate was not on his side and that he was preparing me to be another man’s wife. He died loving me and for that I am forever grateful. Charlie taught me to believe in love again and he reminded me of how to love someone. I had to learn how to love myself before I could love another person. I had to heal myself before I could even think about helping someone else heal. I had to just be, to just be in the moment and love being alone with the person in the mirror.

Love, I never lost her she was always there waiting in he shadows and when I was ready I opened my heart. Fate had a hand, an opportunity to love fell into my inbox on Veteran’s Day. That one email lead me to Jay, a man that I love and understand with all of my heart. His ability to be raw and open is what captured my heart. He is not perfect, then again no buddy is, yet he was exactly what I needed. Jay slipped a silver band on my finger in a motel swimming pool, in that moment his eyes were brimming with love and fear. We all fear what we cannot see, or touch or know, yet in those moments of fear we let the light and love shine through. In those moments we become our best selves and open our hearts to those around us.

Charlie is always with me and a part of my heart will always belong to him. Even thou he is dead, Charlie is still teaching me from the grave. Every now and then I look up at the stars and whisper the constellations to a man I cannot see. That man will be honored when I marry Jay, when we give our future child the middle name Rae, when I take Sophia to Paris and each day that I live the best life possible. Charlie would want me to be happy. Charlie would want me to live a life outside of the shadow of grief and to have the love that he never got to have. An I am doing just that, I am fine with the fact that change is constant and that I cannot control fate. I am deeply in love, I am hopeful, and I am present in this life.

{Nuvaring} The Ultimate Price Paid

Posted on September 10, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

“What counts in life in not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what Difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we have led.”

-Nelson Mandela

I am Erika Langhart, you are Erika, your daughter, your granddaughter, your niece, and your wife are all Erika. Erika was a vibrant young woman who endured my fate. The difference between her and I, is that I got to live another day. Erika wanted nothing more than to live and to prosper in this world. Yet her light was snuffed out, she died due to complications caused by the third generation progesterone in the Nuvaring. To this day the FDA still claims that the Nuvaring is safe for women to use.

Erika, if she could speak would tell you that it is not safe. I am not Erika, but I can tell you that it is not safe and that there is nothing good about the Nuvaring. It will blindly launch you into a disaster that will become your every day life. Erika is only the tip of the iceberg. Many more women followed her foot steps, some went before her and some went after her. There names deserve to be remembered, their lives deserve merit, and mostly their deaths deserve to be more than deaths.

Angela, Brittany, Dana, Erika, Jackie, Julia, LaMonica, and Lindsey, they did not want to die and they should not have lost their lives. Their deaths could have been prevented, if only they had been thoroughly educated about the dangerous side affects of the Nuvaring. That is what gets the most, their deaths could have been prevented. If only they had known about the risks, they would all still be alive today. I have no doubt that all of them would join me in this fight. That they would use their voices to educate the women in their lives, in their communities, and states about the adverse affects of hormonal contraceptives.

Doctors will tell you that the occurrence of a blood clot is rare. I am living and breathing proof that rare happens. It happens every single day all over this world. The Nuvaring doesn’t give a shit if you are rich or poor, the color of your skin, or your age, its just a thing and it will strike when you least expect it. I woke up at 5:50 AM, I was a healthy vibrant young woman and by 7:30 AM I was fighting for every breath I took. Rare, rare happened on October 22, 2009 five days before my 27th birthday. The only reason I am alive is because the ER doctor paused and asked me if I was on a birth control. That one question lead to a D-Dimer test and that Test lead to the scan that revealed the massive clot in my lung. I was diagnosed with a Massive Pulmonary Embolism with Infarction, low oxygen, and sinus tachycardia. An if that wasn’t enough, to top it off I had a stroke too. In layman’s terms I was a hot mess and my future was uncertain.

1 out of 5 will survive a pulmonary embolism. You can do the math, that means four people had to die so I could be the one would lived to the tale. No one should have to go through that, it is terrifying, no one should have to wonder “is this my last breath.” I did the only thing I could, my daddy always told me “when all else fails, pray.” Pray, is exactly what I did and I needed to put the why behind the how. I needed to know why this happened to me. It was proven that my pulmonary embolism was caused by the third generation progesterone in the Nuvaring. My birth control, almost took my life. I was almost Angela, Brittany, Dana, Erika, Jackie, Julia, LaMonica, and Lindsey. But for some unknown reason, I was spared, I lived to fight another day and because of that I will not give up. I will not rest until the Nuvaring is removed from the market.

I will be damned if another woman endures my fate. My years are borrowed and in my heart I know that Angela, Brittany, Dana, Erika, Jackie, Julia, LaMonica, and Lindsey would gladly trade places with me, they can’t so I chose to fight for the tomorrows they never got to see.

To learn more about the Women who lost their lives and about the continued fight to educate women on the adverse side affects of the Nuvaring, please visit: http://nuvaringtruth.com/

{Family} Dusty Shelves & Knickknacks

Posted on September 8, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

On a hot August evening I turned right on a gravel road, drove past the church my parents were married in and took a left at the fork to head down a road I’ve traveled many times. At the bottom of the hill sits an old gray farm house with a weathered barn, a plot of land that has seen many storms. On the ramp stood my uncle George, the years have aged him, yet his eyes were still the same. He puffed on his cigar as my mama and I walked up the drive, he couldn’t take his eyes off of me.

When I approached George he smiles and said “Mandy the last time I saw you, you were this big…” The last time I was on the farm I was girl and I returned 20 some years later as a woman. A woman trying to dig for memories of a farm she barely knew. I have few memories of the farm, I remember my grandpa sitting on the swing in only his shorts and boots, a dog with one blue eye and one brown named smokey, and the unwelcoming face of my grandmother.

My fondest memory of my grandpa is from when I was about 6 George told me if I helped him plant corn, I could play with the baby chickens. I obliged because I wanted to play with the baby chickens. I planted the corn for what seemed like forever when I heard my grandpa’s voice “handy Mandy what the fuck are you doing?!” I excitedly exclaimed “I’m helping George plant so I can play with the chickens!” My grandpa said to me “you don’t need to plant no fucking corn! Come on now.” With that we were off to the grainery to play with the chicks. Grandpa sat down on a bucket and scooped one up and put the chick in my hands, he reminded me “not to tight handy Mandy you will squish the chick.” I remember how my Grandpa would sing “this little piggy” while playing with my toes and he always called me “handy Mandy.”

Being on the farm that night felt odd. I was going through the remains of lives that I never knew. As I walked through the house I so desperately wanted to remember something about my grandma. I wanted to feel connected to a woman that never took the time to know me. I touched her things, ran my fingers across the dusty shelves, and stood in her kitchen, nothing came to mind. George puffed on his cigar as I opened and closed kitchen drawers. I looked at him and said “its incredibly strange to be going through the things of a woman I never knew.” He squeezed my shoulder, in that moment he understood that I was looking for a connection to the past that just wasn’t there.

In the bedroom my Mama was going through the drawers of an old dresser, the drawers were full of photos. In one we found every single photo, card, letter, and drawing that my sister and I had sent to our grandparents. My grandma held on to my high school graduation, college graduation, and wedding invitations. Every single Christmas card that I sent to her was right there in the drawer. I held back tears as I held the photos in my hands. I couldn’t believe that grandma had kept them all, in those drawers I found truth, she secretly considered us hers. Even thou she never had a kind word to say or the time of day to give to us, she secretly loved us.

Each room was overly dusty and filled with knickknacks that they had lovingly collected. The house by the time I got there was well picked over and hardly anything was left of the couple who had 13 children. Grandpa’s music boxes lined the shelves, Indian statutes were abundant, old photos of grand kids were plenty, and somehow in what was left I got to touch the past. George kept showing me things he thought I would like and told me “take whatever you want Mandy.” I didn’t want to seem greedy so I carefully chose the items that went into my box.

My box of things has been riding around in my trunk for almost a month, I am not ready to bring her things into my home. Bringing them in means I accept that she was mine and that I was hers. Mentally I am not ready to forgive her and I am not ready to let her things which are her memories into my life. So in a box inside the trunk they will sit until the day comes that I have made peace with the woman I never knew.

Irene and Clifford

Have Bear Will Travel

She had to break, so I could shine

Category Archives: life lessons