I can remember the moment vividly. Leaving a gastroenterologist appointment three months post-surgery and crying walking to get sushi with my husband on a chilly November day in the middle of the workday. When I walked into that clinic appointment, I was hopeful I would never need a biologic medicine again. We were planning to start trying for a family after our June wedding, but my doctor knocked me back to earth and told me my Crohn’s was too aggressive and I’d be setting myself up for disaster if I attempted going med-free.
The tears flowed. I felt like a failure. I worried about bringing babies into this world while on a heavy-duty drug and if my surgery would provide me with the remission I had never achieved the first ten years of having IBD. I was so upset my husband-to-be and I both called into work and took the rest of the day off. Over sushi we talked about our future family and my health. Everything seemed at our fingertips but out of reach at the same time. That was November 2015. Sometimes we don’t realize how far we’ve come unless we look in the rearview mirror.
Now July 2022, we’re gearing up to celebrate our third child’s first birthday (July 14). We had his first birthday party over the weekend. It’s been a surreal and incredible ride since that November day. I often find myself looking at my three children and still feeling surprised my body was able to create them and bring them safely into this world.

Knowing this is our last baby and the last “first” of everything is bittersweet and amazing all at once. I feel an immense sense of relief and comfort being at this stage and knowing I don’t need to count on my body to sustain life through pregnancy or breastfeeding anymore. I’ve made it an entire year exclusively breastfeeding and if you would have asked me if that would ever be possible a year ago, I would have said no way.
One of my fears is when my next flare will be and leaving my children for days on end while I’m in the hospital. While I know it’s a not a matter of if, but when, it puts me at ease that my children are almost out of the baby stage, and I can begin to explain my health struggles and why I may not always be like other moms. When my oldest was born I hoped to stay out of the hospital until he started walking. He starts kindergarten next month. I can only hope I stay flare-free until my other two are that old.


Learning as I went as a woman with IBD
When I think back to that November day and the tough love my GI professed, I’m so grateful I followed her lead and trusted her approach in managing my Crohn’s. Back then, I wasn’t a patient advocate. The only IBD mom I knew was my cousin’s wife. I navigated the waters of family planning and my first pregnancy all alone without much guidance. Each pregnancy I became more well versed on how to juggle IBD and family planning and everything that comes along with it, but I think back to how isolating and overwhelming it can feel when you dream of having a family, but don’t know how to make it happen when chronic illness is in the mix.

No one knows how their family will play out or if fertility or loss will be a part of their story. It’s sad how many women with IBD choose to be voluntary childless, not because they don’t want to be a mom, but because of the limitations of their IBD and overall well-being getting in the way. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t recognize how lucky I am that I “get” to be a mom. Not every day is wonderful, but even in the trenches as a stay-at-home IBD mom of three littles with almost no breaks, I do my best to remind myself of that day my husband and I got sushi and dreamed of living the life we are living today.










She’s a 38-year-old wife and mom who juggles two autoimmune diseases. She also has Hashimoto’s disease. Since she started on Remicade in 2018 following her IBD diagnosis, she’s experienced the difficulty of warding off illness while being an elementary school teacher and a mom to a young child.
Dealing with the symptoms of IBD was more than enough–how on Earth would I be able to handle that plus avoid picking up viruses at school and in public?
I really needed to stop caring about what others think and prioritize my health. One of the most surprising things to me was that people really don’t understand what immunosuppression means. Some people think I’m just a paranoid germaphobe even after I’ve explained that I’m immunosuppressed. They don’t understand that a simple cold for them, can mean days of sick leave for me due to a secondary infection. Or a fun day swimming in the bay can mean a bacterial infection for me that lasts for weeks and causes symptoms similar to a bad flare.
Somehow my body knows when we have something fun planned and chooses those times to conk out on me. When I’m lying on the couch at home feeling sorry for myself while my husband and son are at a friend’s New Year’s Eve party or Memorial Day BBQ (both events I missed this year), I try to remind myself that Remicade is what allows me to lead a relatively normal life and be able to do things like go sledding with my son on a snow day and take him Trick or Treating. I couldn’t do those things when I was in a bad flare before treatment and definitely can appreciate them more now. I just make sure shoes come off and hands are washed right when we get home.
It’s been a rough few days in the Hayden household—our almost 13-month-old son has been battling days of hives and an allergic reaction that we can’t seem to pinpoint.
As I feel burning sensations in my abdomen at the end of the day, the internal conversation of what could be happening within my own body consumes my thoughts. I can’t help but worry that I can’t go down. I can’t allow my disease to flare when my family needs me most.
So, the last thing I want to do is sound like I think I have it so bad—because trust me, I keep everything in perspective and know I’ve been blessed with a healthy baby. My goal is to provide insight into motherhood with IBD and the challenges it can present at times.
Each day is a learning experience. Much like my initial diagnosis of Crohn’s disease nearly 13 years ago, I know I’ll continue to grow and find comfort in my new role. Navigating unknown waters and experiencing illness within your child is all part of it. No matter how many years go by, as parents, we’ll never be experts, but we’ll continue to evolve and discover what works for us personally and as a family.