{Go Red} Hearts For Fashion Show

Posted on March 20, 2016 by NinjaInTheCity

Every February Boston Scientific sponsors the Hearts for Fashion show as apart of the Go Red for Women expo at the Mall of America. The show allows survivors to strut their stuff down the Go Red for Women runway, all while putting a face to heart disease and stroke. Survivors are not the only ones strutting their stuff, the designs of local students who were inspired by heart health, survivors and the color red will also line the runway. This event allows the American Heart Association’s Go Red for Women campaign to educate the public about women’s heart health through fashion. What girl doesn’t love fashion, I know I do.

Last year I was invited to be apart of the Go Red for Women campaign which included posing for a billboard, gracing many bus stops around the metro, and being a part of a PSA commercial that was aired on channel 9 through out the month of February. I am not use to being in front of the camera, I am the quiet type that walks the capital halls, so it was a big change for me and I am glad that I did it.

This year I was invited to walk the runway in the Hearts for Fashion show. I have watched the show for many years and always thought it would be fun to be a model in the show. When the offer came I gladly accepted and waited for the day to arrive. My outfit was on loan from Macy’s Mall of America and Ginny did a great job at dressing me. I was a little bummed that I did not get to wear a red dress in the show, but its ok I got to rock a modern suit instead.

I had to be at MOA by 8AM for makeup and hair. Our makeup and hair was done by the Minnesota School of Cosmetology students. The girls did a really great job with my updo and makeup, they made me feel like me but better. With hair and makeup in the bag it was time to get dressed. Jay was in charge of collecting my parents and bringing them to MOA for the show. Jay was successful and soon they arrived and Jay’s eyes lit up when he saw me all done up. That’s how I knew the girls did good. A ton of photos were taken and soon we were released to go down and watch part of the show.

I didn’t practice my walk. Being in heels made me nervous, I just said a little prayer and hoped for the best. Lucky for me I didn’t trip!!! That is a miracle in itself and I took on that runway like I was made for it! Yay! Go Me! That is until I looked over and saw my Daddy and Jay plus my Mama all teary eyed. It took everything in me to hold it together, if I see tears I start to tear up, so it was a miracle that i didn’t start crying too. Now Sherri she was the only one holding it together like a boss. Survival is more than the survivor, without my parents and Sherri who knows where I would be, they have been with me since day one of survivor-hood.

Being in the fashion show was a lot of fun and I know Jay had a blast pulling all of the bobbi pins out of my hair. I think he pulled out close to 30 or so, it takes a lot of pins to tack my curly mop down.

{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

{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

{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

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_AYn-Jympo

“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/

{Life Lessons) One Little Genetic Accident

Posted on July 10, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

When Lucia died I was never given the option for genetic testing, instead I had to literally demand it. Many thousands of dollars later we learned that he was genetically and chromosomally perfect. There was no why or a how behind his death. He just simply stopped being and for some strange reason that news brought me comfort.

Fast forward five years, this time around it didn’t really cross my mind to ask for testing. I figured an empty gestational sac is simply just empty. To my surprise the doctor emailed to tell me that the pathology results were in. I thought to my self “Pathology” results? I don’t remember them mentioning anything about testing.”

The proof was in the testing. The little sac that couldn’t was more than just a little sac. It was a sac filled to the brim with answers. A human cannot have 69 chromosomes, we only need 43, no less and no more, only 43 will do. I wondered to myself “How the heck does one embryo get 63 chromosomes? I must be broken or Jay is broken, someone must be broken?” I read a little further and the answer to my question was in the text “two sperm fertilized one egg.” It happens in every 1 out of 3,000 pregnancies and the likelihood of it reoccurring again is very slim.

The true medical term for this is: partial hydatidiform mole or a partial molar pregnancy, which occurs when the egg receives two sets of chromosomes from the father, usually because the egg has been fertilized by two sperm instead of one. The egg now has 69 chromosomes, instead of the normal 46. 69 chromosomes means no baby and your body will recognize this and the miscarriage process will start. That is if your body is smart, mine is not that smart……..

The embryo had only partially developed and a cluster of grape-like cysts, which is known as a hydatidiform mole began to grow and take over. Now the waiting begins and the lab work starts. The doctor is going to follow me until my HCG level returns to zero. If it does not reach zero it means that there is abnormal tissue growing and I will have to under go chemotherapy to kill it off. That in itself does not sound fun and it is a road I would like to avoid. In the mean time I am keeping everything crossed that my HCG will return to zero. We want a big fat zero!! Come on zero, I want you and need you in my life!

Wait and see land is a terrible place to be and I want out! I have many trips to the lab in my future and will have my blood drawn every few days until my level reaches zero. I am praying that on Monday my first blood draw will be a big fat zero. Jay and I want to move on and put our little ball of 69 chromosomes behind us.

Nothing is every easy, all of the weird medical shit happens to me. Just once I would like a break from the office visits and medical bills. Leave it to me to be the 1 out of 3,000. In away it is cool that medical science has come so far that they can tell two sperm fertilized one egg. Like that is crazy cool when you think about it. Gosh darn I love science!

My bright side in this situation is this: “I CAN get pregnant! My uterus may be beat up and bruised, but she sure as hell ain’t broke! The best part is: I am not going through this alone, I have an amazing man who is holding my hand every step of the way. Jay is making me laugh, giving me back rubs, and taking much needed naps with me. I am so glad I have him in my life! With Jay at my side all things are possible, one day we will have a little one to call our own. Right now Jay and I are settling for the newest addition to our family a little gray kitten with a very pink nose named Griffin.

{Life Lessons} So close to motherhood, yet so far away

Posted on July 9, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

On Mother’s day I got the bright blue positive that we all hope and pray for. That little plastic test proved that my body still worked and that I was still worthy of motherhood. Little did I know, this to would be a test and I would once again have to face loss. Fate she can be kind, yet without warning she can churn the seas. At the end of May Jay and I found out that a gestational sac had developed yet it had nothing inside. There was no heart beat, no yolk, and simply no sign of life. It was not meant to be ours.

Someone else needed a baby more than Jay and I did. This, this just wasn’t our time and as Jay put it “Babes it just wasn’t CoraLeigh in there.” Yes, we secretly wanted a girl. June proved to be a test, losing a pregnancy isn’t easy and it put a strain on our relationship. Words were said, tears shed, yet we came out of it more in love than ever. My body didn’t want to let go of our little sac that couldn’t, so a D&C was scheduled and I began to pray. Pray because the last time I had one, it didn’t end so well and it left me with more scars than healthy tissue.

I picked out the expert, we talked through the procedure and he promised that he was going to do it right. On Monday I went under and he did it right. To my surprise as well as his, my uterus had hardly any scar tissue and the tare in the uterus healed perfectly. My chances of having a healthy pregnancy are as high as they can be for a pulmonary embolism/stroke survivor. I have a feeling that my third time and Jay’s second time will be the charm. I am not going to give up on motherhood just yet, this this is a dream I have always wanted.

Sometimes I look at pregnant women and think to myself “you are so darn lucky.” Most women have no idea the struggles a pulmonary embolism/stroke survivor faces in pregnancy. My world is complicated and most of us are told “no more babies.” I took that statement as a challenge and lord willing one day I will hold a baby of my own. Someone has to go first and tread the waters so others can follow. Right now medical science knows so little about hormone induced blood clots and heart issues, I think it’s time to change it. More research needs to be done and when that happens more women just like me will be able to carry babies of their own.

For now I will settle for the knowledge that my body still and does work. I am blessed to have two children in heaven, my son Lucia and a baby we never got to know. I’d like to believe that this was a test, a nudge from God to let me know I am still capable of carrying a child. The little empty sac will always be apart of me and I will always wonder who it would have been. I have no doubt that my turn is coming and that Jay and I will get to one day share a super cute baby announcement with all of you.

{Go Red For Women} A Thriving Survivor #IsWhy

Posted on January 23, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPARfPm32G0

I have no problem walking into the capital building and speaking to legislators. Send me to D.C. and I will spread the message to congress that research is the key to a healthy tomorrow. Speaking to strangers, is no big deal. I love talking to folks about heart healthy policies and the importance of medical research. Using my voice to change your tomorrow makes me ok with the fact that I cannot undo the past. It allows me to be ok with having a stroke and a pulmonary embolism. Mostly using my voice has allowed me to heal and come into my own as a survivor.

Every year at the Go Red Luncheon they hold a casting call to find the Spokeswoman for next years campaign. I sat down in front of the green screen just for fun and never thought in a million years that they would pick me. Pick me to be a part of the 2014-2015 Go Red for Women campaign. I got the email in early June and I was excited, nervous but very excited. I almost talked myself out of the opportunity. The email came on the heels of my neck surgery and I was still out of sorts. I wasn’t going to let a swollen neck and illness stand in my way of making a difference. With the support of my family and friends, I said yes and hit send.

At the photo shoot I got to meet an amazing group of ladies. We went around the room introducing ourselves and sharing our stories. All of us have been touched by heart disease and stroke. Most were survivors and others lost a love one to heart disease. In that moment I didn’t feel like an oddity, in this room I belonged and they understood my heart healthy journey. In this room Life was Why. All of us faced uncertainty and the cards they were stacked against us, but we chose to thrive.

Thriving means sharing your story and educating the women around us. In away we are pioneers, we went through the worst day possible, picked up and moved on. On to tell an amazing tale that leaves you questioning your own heart health. I was 26 years old, just 5 days shy of my 27th birthday when I had a massive pulmonary embolism with infarction and a stroke. My only risk factor was that I was taking a hormonal contraceptive. Until that moment I had no idea that the Nuva Ring or any birth control for that matter could almost take my life. To me birth control was harmless and it never crossed my mind that it could be deadly. Birth control increases a women’s risk for blood clots and stroke. This, this fact is the very reason I chose to share my story. I do not want another woman to endure my fate, knowledge is power and being your own healthcare advocate is the key to survival.

“A Second Chance Is Why, I Go RED”

We have all had that moment where we wished we could have a second chance to make things right, to live a little more, and to love with all of our hearts. I do not have to wish, because I am living my second chance. Five borrowed years and counting. I almost died 5 days before my 27th birthday, I got the greatest gift that year, I got the gift of life. A second chance to make my mark on this world. A second chance that allowed me to carry a child. My son’s feet never touched the ground yet he made one hell of an impact as wings were placed on his shoulders. Divorce, no one said second chances were perfect. I filed eight months after my stroke and I moved out on independence day.

I got a second chance to fall in love with myself and to come into my own as a young stroke survivor. I rented my very first apartment, adopted a dog, changed jobs, and started dating. In order for me to find love I had to heal my surviving heart. I had to come to terms with the fact that I was broken, that I would never be able to have a child of my own, and that I wasn’t always going to be there cup of tea. It takes a special type of man to love a woman with a surviving heart. Charlie, was my shooting star. He would always tell me “babe I am so glad I get to be your second chance love.” Fate stepped in and took him out before I got to say I do. My surviving heart broke the day he died.

Yet I persevered and continued my mission of educating women about the dangerous side effects of hormonal contraceptives and propelling heart healthy policies forward. I held my niece in my arms and promised her that she will grow up in a healthier tomorrow. I buried myself in my work and watched the world melt around me. Only to realize that I wasn’t living every moment of my second chance to the fullest. With time my heart healed and I dusted off my dating shoes. Fate, she likes to mess with me and love it eluded me. That is until one snowy November day it walked right up to me and as they say the rest is history. Finally! My second chance at this thing we call life is shaping up to be a beautiful disaster and I could not be happier.

It’s not just a man’s disease. Heart disease and stroke kill 1 in 3 women, yet it’s 80% preventable.

{Hearts On 22} Scales Are For The Birds

Posted on January 22, 2015 by NinjaInTheCity

I have never been one to follow the crowd or listen to critics. I rather stay in the woods and join the teddy bear picnic. Society tells me I am fat and that I should change. Change, means losing weight and striving to be there kind of beautiful.

There kind of beautiful is not my kind of beautiful. I’m not exactly fat, some call me fit. Others, well they just call me fluffy. Society wants me to be ashamed of my tits, my hips, my stomach, my ass, and my curves that go on for days. Once I was ashamed, I strived and I tried to be skinny. But, skinny wasn’t me, we didn’t work out and I put my size 14 jeans back on.

My size 14 ass has seen a lot of shit. When I look in the mirror I see curves with a dash of strength and a twist of determination. My body, she is powerful and she is amazing. She has never let me down. She beat the odds to walk another day. Scars are stories that left an imprint on your soul. My scars, shit I’ve got more than I can count. The newest one is a really cool neck scar and it is a reminder to always fight for answers.

Answers never come easy and sometimes you kind of wish you stayed in the woods. People stare at my scar, they look me up and down when they find out I had a stroke and lord they hit the floor when they find out I have a son in heaven. We are never told that sometime the fairytale sucks and that shit gets deep. Life isn’t fair and we are never prepared for the short deck. Yet we must always play the hand we are dealt and love the only body we will ever have.

My body is beautiful. Beautiful because it carries my surviving heart from place to place. I will never be a model, a hottie or hell even a heartthrob. I am simple and unexpected, and someone out there cannot get enough of my kind of beautiful.

Rock what the good lord gave you, put down that diet book, throw out your scale, and girl start loving yourself! Strength and determination are fucking sexy and they look good on YOU! Girl, you are not a bird, stop eating like one and enjoy food. As in really enjoy your life and have a little fun along the way. Kiss a stranger, dance in the rain, be daring, and never ever give up on your sweet self!

{2014} Life Lessons with a Hint of Glitter

Posted on December 23, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

2014 was one crazy beautiful disastrous year and all I have to show for it is a really cool neck scar. I’ve been telling people I got my scar in a bar fight, sadly no one believes me. I need to practice my stick in the shower and then just maybe someone will believe my bar fight story!

I have to stop myself when I look back and realize how far I’ve come. February brought tears and mixed emotions. The six year fight against Merck was finally over. Merck does not have to admit wrong doing, they just swept us under the rug and carried on as usual. We were nothing more than the collateral damage they had accounted for. Merck created a $100 million dollar slush fund to compensated 3,800 women for their injuries caused by the Nuva Ring. No amount of money will undo the damage and it will never make us whole again. I was never in this for the money, I I wanted to make a difference and to make sure no woman endured my fate.

Fate is a funny thing, some might say 2014 was the year of the Cancer scare. Cancer didn’t scare me, even when my name was put before the “C” it didn’t shake me. It humbles me to know that God didn’t bring me this far to bring me down. This was the year that I listened to my gut and urged doctors to look deeper. A sore knee lead me to a neurologist who ordered a multitude of MRIs and CT/PET Scans. Those scans lead to a fine needle biopsy and that biopsy lead to the removal of my lymph nodes. Surgery went well, however my recovery was anything but. A nasty surgical site infection was a tiny piece to the unfolding puzzle. In late July I was diagnosed with an auto inflammatory disease. I am still learning how to move in my new normal.

Steroids and anti inflammatory medications had me feeling like my old self by August. 2014 was the year of being wise enough to know when to fold them. The Manhuman moved in and out in August. He and I were never meant to be. I am a go getter and well he just took up space on my couch. I couldn’t let someone live off of me, so I threw in the towel and took back my space. He moved out and I moved on.

Moved on to take road trips with my Dad and discovered new not so boring places. The state school for abandoned and neglected children was both heart breaking and amazing. Finding one of our own among the rows of the children’s cemetery took my breath away. Iowa proved to be beautiful and the Bily Clock Museum did not disappoint. Niagara cave was more of a bust than a wonder. Now circus world, now that lived up to its name. Wisconsin Dells with my mama is always a good time and wine tasting with my dad is the best way to spend a weekend on the north shore.

I am so crafty, that I bleed glitter. When I think of 2014 I think of a never ending river of spray paint and refurbished furniture. Who knew spray painting a dumpster find would be so much fun. Yes I AmandaJean actually dumpster dove. Well not really, it’s more like I alley picked and went for the items next to the dumpster. If it was near a dumpster it still counts as dumpster diving in my book. I let my creativity flow and discovered a new sassy crafty side of myself. I now have this crazy obsession to design and build a tiny home out of reclaimed materials and repurposed items. I also want to have back yard chickens. Yes my own little flock of laying hens. I need chickens in my life.

Life this year was full of firsts. Sophia said “I love you Auntie” for the very first time and my heart melted into the floor as I scooped her into my lap. Her little face lights up when I walk into the room, her hand practically falls off as she excitedly waves and shouts “HI! Auntie Mannie! HI!” I love Sophia’s little voice and her sassiness. For a two year old she is bold, holds her own, and is as sweet as pie. Watching her personality grow throughout 2014 was a joy. I can’t believe she is almost three. Time sure does fly when you are having fun.

The fall brought lessons and heartbreak. It’s hard when you realize your male best friend was never your best friend. That you were just a pawn in his emotional game. That you meant nothing and that he was embarrassed to call you his friend. His true colors were on display and our friendship was eliminated. Breaking up with your friend is hard. But in the end it showed me exactly who my true friends were. They are the people who love me for me. They accept my flaws, laugh at my blunders, and cheer me on in moments of doubt. Mostly they are the ones who give me the strength to change the world.

Change occurs when we least expect it. I finally have the type of love you read about in books and watch unfold on the silver screen. I have an amazing man that I do not have to chase. He tells me that I am beautiful and that I am the missing piece to his puzzle. In his eyes I am perfect. Jay thinks my flaws are beautiful, he digs my kind of crazy, and loves that I am a strong quirky woman. He is exactly what I didn’t know I needed. Even I couldn’t have imagined this type of soul connecting relationship. It feels like I have known him for a thousand years. When I am with Jay the world melts away and I get lost in the moment. For the first time in three years I have allowed myself to feel, to connect, and to fall in love again. I finally have my movie worthy romance!

2014 was more than a Cancer scare and it was more than a diagnosis of a disease that has no name. It was about living in the moment and remembering to find the beauty in the disaster.

Have Bear Will Travel

She had to break, so I could shine

Category Archives: Survival