This article was written earlier this month, while getting my hair done.
I hear her cry. I glance at the clock that reads 4:55 a.m. I clutch my abdomen. The pain I went to bed with hours earlier is amplified.
It feels like a fiery pain inside my rib cage that travels all the way down my stomach. The gnawing makes me feel raw internally and externally. I put my glasses on and as I’m standing up and rocking my daughter in her nursery, I try to think of her warm little body as a heating pad.
I wrestle with my thoughts about how to handle my pain. Last time I took pain medication I couldn’t breastfeed my daughter for 20 hours. I decide to take one 600 mg ibuprofen left over from my C-section recovery, with the understanding that as someone with IBD I shouldn’t be taking that. But I’m desperate. Desperate to get a reprieve from the pain and the inner monologue racing in my head as I lay back down. While at the same time, trying to keep my painful moans quiet so I don’t wake my husband.
I wake up and the pain is still there, but I have no choice but to take on the day. Thanks to my mom being in town, I’m able to head to the hair salon for a much needed hair cut and color. The stylist asks me questions and my Crohn’s comes up fairly quickly in the conversation. Her response—“one of my best friends has Crohn’s and she’s completely self-healed herself by eating very strictly”. She goes on to say her godmother has Crohn’s, too—and constantly posts pics on social media eating and drinking, so it’s no wonder she struggles, acting almost disgusted by her godmother’s lifestyle and patient journey.
I bite my tongue. The pain from the night before and the worries weighing heavily on my mind and heart are still fresh. Self-healing and Crohn’s, if only it were that easy, that simplistic. But I don’t have the energy to get into that discussion.
The fact that so many people without IBD are under the assumption that our pain and symptoms are self- imposed upsets me. We already beat ourselves up mentally as it is. My husband and I took our son for ice cream last night, so immediately I wonder if all of my pain is a result of the choice to have ice cream with my 2-year-old.
As a mom who’s battled Crohn’s for nearly 14 years, the background noise and ignorant comments about IBD tend to bounce off me. I have thick skin, now. But, it’s worrisome at the same time. What if the girl getting her hair done wasn’t me? What if she was newly diagnosed and struggling? What if she chose to go off all medications and “self-heal” because someone cutting her hair told her it was possible? This is what we’re up against as patients. Everyone tries to relate and thinks they are offering “words of wisdom” or assurance, when really they’re just contributing to the hurt and feelings of being less than. 
Luckily, I’m not that girl. But—if you’re reading this, know that your patient journey is unique to you. What works for one person, will not necessarily work for you. Needing medication to manage symptoms and keep your disease from progressing is not a sign of laziness or weakness. You need to take the steps necessary to improve your quality of life and overall health. Living with IBD is not black and white. There is so much gray area. Trust in your physician. Trust in the support available both online and in your community from fellow patients. Be patient in discovering what works for you, be flexible, and do what you need to do to self-heal.

When you’re in the thick of a flare and when feel good days feel far from ever being a possibility, try and remember how fleeting these moments are.
today he’s a rumbustious, adorable, little ball of energy. Sure, we age, too—but we also mature mentally when it comes to our illness. What felt like the biggest obstacle and scare of our life, evolves into something that is a part of who we are, an identity that while not ideal, helps to define us.
But I can promise you, that as life goes on and as the years since that moment of diagnosis get further and further in the rear view mirror, you will find a comfort in this identity.


I’m here to tell you that you are. I truly believe my vulnerability with my Crohn’s and how I deal with flare ups is a big part of why my husband fell in love with me. Chronic illness isn’t pretty. It forces you to see the world without rose-colored glasses. It makes you realize the importance of your health and how quickly it can be taken away from you.
Caregiving looks and means different things to everyone. It’s not just about being a caregiver in the hospital or at a nursing home. It’s taking care of the one(s) you love on a typical day at home. It can be something as simple as rubbing your back or taking care of the kids while you’re stuck in the bathroom. It can be dishing you out ice cream after you give yourself an injection. Or holding your hand on a walk outside following a hospitalization. It’s those caregiving moments in particular that remind me constantly of the everlasting love I’ve found and make me 100 percent positive we will make it through, for the rest of my life.
If you’re someone dealing with a disability/disease—don’t allow Dr. Phil’s ridiculously inaccurate comments make you think you aren’t worthy of love, because you are and always will be.
It’s not easy to be in constant battle with your body. It’s a challenge to feel pain often. It’s exhausting to always have a worry and a wonder in the back of your mind about how you’re going to navigate and overcome the next hurdle or setback thrown your way. This is why self-love is so important.
Since being diagnosed, this body of mine has still served me well. I managed to work full-time and live out my dream of working in television for the first ten years I had Crohn’s. I trained for and ran in 5ks, 10ks, 15ks and a half-marathon. I felt completely healthy and on top of the world on my wedding day (didn’t have one bathroom break!). My body was a safe haven for my children throughout pregnancy and allowed me to bring a healthy son and daughter into this world.
It’s when I felt invincible if only for a moment, whether it was crossing the finish line or holding my babies on my chest for the first time. It’s the victories along the way that help me push through on the difficult days and through the flares. Because while those times push me to the brink of breaking, I tell myself there’s only one option—and that’s to bounce back.
Pat yourself on the back for all the steps you’ve taken to rise up. Smile through the tears with the confidence in knowing you will get through this—one day, sometimes one hour at a time.
My daughter is 4 weeks old today and has been exclusively breastfed. I’m by no means writing this as an expert or to point any fingers. I am completely of the mindset that ‘fed is best’. No judgement here, ladies.
I was worried about the lack of long-term studies on my biologic drug (Humira) and I was concerned about the risk of having a postpartum flare that would land me in the hospital and interrupt my ability to feed him. Being a new mom, I was worried the stress that comes along with breastfeeding could cause me to flare. I ended up breastfeeding him the first three days in the hospital, so that he could receive the colostrum. After that—he was given formula until he turned one. It’s a decision I was confident in, but that tugs at my heartstrings at times, especially now as I breastfeed his sister.
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That way—the baby did not receive a burst of the immune-suppressant drug through the placenta, the day she was entering the world and I would be at lower risk of developing an infection as well. Timing your biologic medication is key and a conversation you’ll want to have with your care team so it can be tailored to your pregnancy and your personal journey.
When it comes to breastfeeding as IBD moms, whether a child is going to latch or if our milk supply is going to be sufficient, tends to be the least of our worries. Our chronic health condition, plus the medications so many of us are dependent on to treat them—adds another layer of stress. In the end, you need to do what you feel comfortable with, what works for your body and for your family. Always know you are not alone in your struggles. Celebrate the parenting wins and accomplishments along the way—no matter how big or small. Lean on your support system—especially fellow breastfeeding mamas who can answer your questions and calm your fears. I can’t tell you how long I’ll continue my breastfeeding journey. For now—all I can do is take it one day at a time. What I can tell you—is how rewarding it is to see what my body is capable of, despite my disease and how amazing it feels to know I’m nourishing my little girl and providing her with a healthy start.
It was a brisk January morning. Tears filled my eyes as I was overcome with emotion. Our rainbow baby is here, safe and sound. Another pregnancy behind me, a pregnancy that silenced my Crohn’s disease and provided sweet reprieve from my chronic illness. It was time to take Sophia home and start our life as a family of four.
Each time I have a procedure or deal with painful symptoms, I see their faces, I say their names in my head, and it brings me a sense of calm. My goal when Reid was born, was to stay out of the hospital until he could walk, luckily that’s been the case. He’ll be two in March. Now, I have that same goal following the arrival of my daughter.
Motherhood and IBD can be a difficult and challenging balance. Some days the fatigue and symptoms are so debilitating you feel like you’re falling short. At the same time, the days where you’re feeling well, remind you that you are so much more than your disease. Just because you have a chronic illness, doesn’t mean you are robbed of experiencing the beauty of life and what it feels like to have your very own family.
It all starts with recognizing where you are in your patient journey and then determining when your symptoms and body are in the best shape to get pregnant. While everyone’s disease experience is different—the worries, concerns and fears associated with parenting and chronic illness are often the same. Always know you are never alone. Communicating these feelings with those around you, makes all the difference. Lean on our patient community and all those who’ve lived your reality.
When Sophia Shea entered the world January 14, 2019, our family received a wonderful gift. Between our son Reid and our baby girl, we could not be more blessed. My chronic illness has given me such an appreciation for health and for life in general. With the pregnancies behind me, I often reflect on where I started back at age 21 in 2005. At that time, in my eyes, I was Natalie and I had Crohn’s disease. There was no telling what my future would hold. Now, nearly 14 years later, at age 35, I’m so much more. I’m a mom to two under two. I’m a wife. I’m a daughter. I’m a sister. I’m an aunt. I’m a friend. And I also have Crohn’s.
At the time, Nick DiNardi was a senior walk on and served as a scout to prepare players for each game. Aside from his skills on the hardwood, Nick has battled Crohn’s colitis since he was 11.
My grade school friends had no idea why I was crying in class, oftentimes teasing me while I was in pain,” said Nick. “My parents and siblings were always there to do everything they could to make me feel better, but I just never felt like anyone related to the pain I was in.”

For me—the past nine months I’ve been incredibly grateful to have another healthy pregnancy, that silenced my Crohn’s symptoms. I’m also celebrating 3.5 years of no IBD-related hospitalizations or ER visits! The cherry on top was the release of Citrate-free (pain-free) Humira this year! After more than a decade of giving myself the painful injection, the new formula has greatly improved my patient experience.
Celebrate the feel-good days and soak up the moments where your IBD isn’t top of mind. You have an innate sense of when your body is giving you warning signs that rough waters are ahead. Be mindful of the inner conversation going on in your head and listen to your gut. Although it tends to be our nemesis, it has a way of alerting us when things are about to get out of our control.
Trust that those close to you love you and appreciate you for everything that makes you, you—including your disease. Show appreciation for your caretakers—those who live with you and are in the trenches by your side, day in and day out. Find comfort in those who allow you to be vulnerable when you need to be. Stop putting effort into relationships and friendships that don’t add joy to your life—eliminate the negativity, cut the fat, there’s no need for people who bring you down or belittle what it’s like to live with Crohn’s or ulcerative colitis.
I hope you take this week to enjoy time with loved ones, relax and find time to care for yourself!

and industrial to have in your personal bathroom. But reviews far and wide have been overwhelmingly positive!