Wellness is a Journey

Unexpected Beginnings

I was pregnant with my second child. 31 years old, in great health, and ready to delivery my baby. I didn’t know the gender and I could not wait to find out. My first child was three and a half weeks early. His birth was pretty perfect. I labored all day, went to the doctor, who sent me to the hospital. I waited “patiently” for the delivering doctor to arrive, pushed three times, and had my beautiful baby boy, Elijah Jack. Now, when you have had a relatively easy delivery of a child, you automatically assume the second will be just as good. Little did I know.

January 4, 2012. The day my baby girl, Naomi Alona, arrived. A day that forever changed my life. Something was not right that day. I called my doctor with my concern, and she sent me to the hospital to get checked out. It was confirmed that my water was leaking and I would need to be induced. I was right, but I was also ready. Her due date was January 17th, so it wasn’t too early. I’ll be fine, just like my first baby.

I can do this.

Losing Control

It wasn’t fine. Being induced completely changes the labor process. Contractions come non-stop. I had an epidural, and I couldn’t move my legs on my own. My mom and my husband were in the room with me the entire time. They moved my legs for me and assured me everything would be fine.

It wasn’t fine.

I had to have an emergency c-section. “We do this all the time, you will be just fine”. I remember seeing Naomi right after she was born. I remember crying tears of joy. I remember thinking “everything is fine now”.

It wasn’t fine.

I knew something was very wrong. I could feel the energy of the doctors In the room. It was serious. I was dying. I knew it. I stared up at the ceiling in that sterile room and could see parts of my life flash before my eyes. I said it out loud. “I’m going to die.” The response, one that you never want to hear, we are doing everything we can.

It wasn’t fine.

Back out into the labor room with my mom and my husband waiting for me. Huddled In the corner, scared. They know something was wrong. The doctors were trying stop the unexpected bleeding. It hurt. More than the labor. But “everything is fine”.

It wasn’t fine.

Somehow, practically incoherent, I signed a consent form to have another emergency surgery. A hysterectomy. 31 years old and the choice was to die or have my uterus removed. They rolled my bed back to surgery. I left my mom, my husband, and my newborn baby girl. But here’s the thing…

It still wasn’t fine.

I kept bleeding. I had two more surgeries, blood transfusions, and every head surgeon at the hospital taking care of me. Wexner Medical Center cancelled all minor and elective surgeries to save my life. It was the largest OB recovery ever at the hospital. My family, friends, and coworkers waited, still scared, for things to turn a corner. Doctors told my family that they are doing everything possible, but the outcome is unsure. My family slept on the floor of the ICU. They waited. And 7 days later…

It WAS fine.

I was alive.

Regaining Power

I woke up in the hospital, having very little idea of what happened to save my life. 4 surgeries, 150 units of blood, and countless hours of medical care to keep me alive. I had a drain in my stomach and a tube in my nose. But I was alive. Somehow.

From that moment, I was determined to be a survivor. I spent the next 7 days in the hospital showing everyone exactly how strong I was. I did one physical therapy session and walked up and down stairs. Every time a doctor would come in, they would stare at me in awe. They were almost as emotionally drained as my family. They fought for my life and it was my time show them that my life was only starting. I was incredibly grateful for the love and support my family, friends, coworkers, and doctors surrounded me with. My brother and sister-in-law took care of my daughter for the first two weeks of her life. They dropped everything to make sure she was safe.

On January 17, 2012, Naomi’s original due date, I was discharged from the hospital. I was finally home with my beautiful baby girl.

I am a survivor.

Finding Myself

My journey to where I am today has been complicated. It’s taken a lot of twists and turns. Unexpected pain and sadness. Because, when you have a traumatic life event, it doesn’t just go away.

After having Noami, I was living my most authentic life. I was taking care of myself physically, mentally, and emotionally. 9 months after having her, I ran a half marathon. Focusing on my wellness was a daily activity. I had the support of my husband. Having been married for 9 years, he knew me better than I knew myself. He was my biggest cheerleader and did anything to make sure that I was living life fully.

10 years of marriage, two children, one very traumatic experience, and it was time for my husband to live authentically. He came out to me. This man, my very best friend and father of my children, is gay. It wasn’t fine, again. But, I am strong. I can do this. We can figure it out.

And we did.

Surviving to Thriving

34 years old, dating again, and co-parenting in a way that many people didn’t understand. I was supporting my best friend in his journey of finding his authentic self and learning how to take care of myself within the chaos.

6 months later, I met my husband, Andy. I found a man that fit perfectly into my crazy life. Was willing to jump in with two feet, and never jumped back out.

Over the last 5 years, we have created a uniquely beautiful life. I’ve learned more about myself than I ever thought I would. I stopped making 5 year plans and started living each day knowing that life is hard to predict. I’ve learned the importance of taking care of myself, no matter what, even on the hardest of days, because life is worth living.

In this wild journey, I discovered my love for wellness and have redefined what health looks like for me. I’ve participated in crazy fitness endeavors including Crossfit, a Spartan Race, and completing an ultralight 45 mile backpacking trip through the Smokies with my brother. I’ve traveled the world, explored new places, and discovered the creative part of myself.

I found myself again.