When is your family “complete”? It’s hard to know what the answer is to that question and in some cases it’s decided for you instead of by you.
Below includes my experience of miscarriage. Please note this includes a frank discussion of pregnancy loss and medical treatment for such, as well as strong language.
I never thought I’d be writing about miscarriage. To tell the truth, I kind of don’t want to do it now. But I’ve come to realize that holding back is harmful to me, and imparts the feeling that my experiences didn’t serve any purpose. Not that everything that happens has a reason or a purpose, but I have the ability to take this part of my life and turn it into something positive.
Do you ever feel like the on that sticks out? I do, frequently. I’ve done my best to make the most of bad situations, but when it’s my child that is the one who “sticks out,” I don’t always react in the most rational, thought-out way.
A man approached me at an event, not an IBD-related one, and asked me what everyone was doing. The event was a walk at a local beach and it happened to be for food allergy awareness.
“This is a walk to raise funds and awareness of food allergy.”
“That’s strange,” he said to me, and made a face of disbelief.
“Why is that strange?” I said.
“Because you think it would be cancer or Alzheimer’s or something.” Continue reading
On March 9th, the IBD Social Circle held a Twitter chat to discuss pregnancy, birthing, and parenting as an IBD patient. I was the host, and Stephanie Hughes of The Stolen Colon was my co-host. Our featured gastroenterologist was Dr Edward Loftus, Jr of Mayo Clinic. It was a lively chat with lots of great information that I don’t want anyone to miss! Here are some of the best Tweets from the chat!
Aww. I’m a baby. Why am I holding a football? No idea. This would have been mid-70s, as evidenced by the green velour couch. It was a super comfortable couch, let me tell you. Great for building forts, too.
At the risk of sounding aged and out-of-touch, daily life was much different when I was diagnosed and even 10 years later when I had my j-pouch surgeries. No smart phones. No Internet. No digital photos. Most people didn’t have computers. A lot of people didn’t own cameras.
This is why there are no pictures of me. There are no photos of me battling ulcerative colitis in my hospital bed. No photos of my stoma. My wasted, 89 pound body. The skin peeling off the bottom of my feet. The blood transfusion. The voluminous amounts of gelatin I ate when my body could tolerate nothing else. There are no images of these things. We didn’t take pictures of them, and truthfully I can’t even remember if I owned a camera, or if anyone in my family did. Continue reading
Anyone who spends, oh, I don’t know, maybe 5 minutes with me will find out that I nursed my two children. I’m pretty much a fanatic about it. As a matter of fact, I looked into becoming a lactation consultant, but I don’t think I would be very good at it. Not because of a lack of knowledge, but because I would probably tell my patients that they should put aside their ridiculous excuses and feed the baby. I’m sure I’d get results, but I probably wouldn’t be in high demand.
Nursing a pre-term baby brought challenges, but we made it through. This child never had a bottle.
With the first child I made it until about 15 months, and the second about 18 months. Why is this extraordinary? Because most mothers don’t make it to even 6 months. Oh, everybody tries in the beginning, but most babies are on formula by 6 months (though this statistic is improving). At least most women try. But as Yoda says: Do. Or do not. There is no try.