Today marks my 13th anniversary with Crohn’s disease. Lights, Camera, Crohn’s: An Unobstructed View, is two years old today! It’s a big day. Lots of reflection and bittersweet emotions. It’s always difficult to know how to handle an anniversary of a chronic illness diagnosis—is it a celebration? Is it a remembrance of what was? Is it all the above? For me, I like to think about how far I’ve come since July 23, 2005. How my perception of life, people and my own personal strength has grown, changed and evolved, thanks to my disease.
Since I started sharing my story in 2014 as a patient advocate, I’ve really put myself out there. I’ve been vulnerable, honest and haven’t minced my words. I’ve been fortunate to have speaking opportunities, videos, conferences and feature stories. While that is all wonderful—it also puts you in a space and a place where complete strangers—who have no idea what you’ve endured, can pass judgement and make claims about how you choose to take on your illness.
This past week—I was surprised by a comment on Facebook, written on an article by Health Central that highlighted my patient story. Like many people on social media, rather than read the article—they reply to the title or the pulled quote in the caption. 
The featured image from the story is one of me smiling outside my home. The comment on the article: “Crohn’s sucks. Why don’t you show what a real sick person looks like, instead of a happy smiling one???? Just saying—nothing happy about this crap.”
This really took me aback. This felt like a slap in the face. This comment hurt me. Obviously, she didn’t read the article or she would have known about all my hospitalizations, surgery, and rollercoaster of a journey. But to flat-out judge a fellow patient who lives with this debilitating disease and demean me for having a positive attitude…and smiling (God forbid!). If it weren’t for my attitude and the way I approach my Crohn’s disease, I never would have accomplished my dreams of being a television news anchor. I never would have trusted a man with my heart and gotten married. I never would have become a mother and gotten pregnant again.
If there’s anything I’ve wanted you to take away from my blog and my journey, it’s about finding the power of positivity in your experiences and seeking the good that still exists in your life, despite your disease. If you want to think woe is me and suffer all day long on the couch…that will be your life. 
If you choose to smile and show Crohn’s who’s boss, than no matter what obstacles and setbacks come your way you’ll tackle them and fight through flares with a knowingness that better days are ahead.
As a patient advocate—I know I can’t please everyone. I know not everything I say will resonate with you. And that’s completely fine. All I ask is that you have an open mind and understand that each person chooses to take on this terrible disease how they want to and shouldn’t be called out for it. My life is not all about hospitals, IVs, pain and suffering. Yes, this past week my injection hurt so badly I was sobbing hysterically and yes my stomach was killing me while out to dinner. But you know what, those moments passed. Rather than allow my pain to rob me of a wonderful conversation with a friend—I stayed at the restaurant. Instead of wallowing in the pain of my injection and the bruise that remains days later, I had a bowl of ice cream and gave my 16-month-old a few extra high fives. 
So, to whoever decided to try and belittle me on the article about my patient journey and look down on me for smiling, please know I am a real person…and I am sick. But sick doesn’t come first when I think of who I am. It’s a part of me. It’s not all of me. That’s how it will always be, no matter what. And one thing I can promise you—now and in the future, it will never stop me from smiling.
Everyone works together to watch me, the baby and the pregnancy every step of the way. We get an ultrasound once a month! I see that as a perk!
I specifically was interested in featuring Hope because she’s pregnant with baby #2!
complications, the doctors I saw were pretty sure I would have difficulty conceiving; however, I am so thankful that God has given me grace in that aspect of my life. I will say that my first pregnancy was a bit of an “oops”, BUT my body was in 100% remission and I believe that greatly contributed to my success. This time around—knowing that I wanted to get pregnant, I made appointments with my GI and had blood-work, a colonoscopy, and wound up having to have an MRI to rule out any potential flare up. Thankfully, I was flare free and my doctor gave us the “ok” to try and conceive. I attribute much of our success to my remission. A healthy mom has a much greater chance of conceiving successfully in terms of Crohn’s Disease.”
It definitely does, BUT I try to live my life with as much positivity as I can and a lot of laughter. I’ve found that Crohn’s has matured me far beyond my age in years and that has helped me navigate the endless responsibilities that come with being a young wife and a young mother. I never take health for granted and I am thankful every day for the opportunity to raise my child(ren) free of feeling sick. I get fatigued faster than the average person due to Crohn’s, but I am so used to it, it’s my normal. Also, have you ever met a mom who is full of endless energy?! Nope.”
We must surrender to Christ and let him lead us through the highs and the lows. If you aren’t a person of faith, my prayer for you is that you find peace in either the waiting of becoming a mom or peace in the journey of motherhood. It is not easy at all, but it is so worth it, and I pray for every woman who might be struggling to carry a baby because of this disease. It truly breaks my heart to think about that suffering. When I was pregnant with Evie, I joined a study called the PIANO study which stands for Pregnancy and Neonatal Outcomes in Women with Inflammatory Bowel Disease. I answered questions during pregnancy and at birth I brought in a lab kit where we sent off blood from me, from Evie, and from my umbilical cord, to study if any of my medications got to my baby. There was no trace of Cimzia in Evie’s blood or the umbilical cord which was wonderful and a big part of why I take Cimzia, as it does not pass the placenta. But, I mention this study to share my passion to help all women with IBD reach their dream of motherhood. I crave more information about this disease specifically for those moms struggling. Know that you’re not alone and you have many people rooting for you and your future babies!”
Evie was born, my blog kind of fizzled and after awhile I was missing that creative outlet. My sister was pregnant with her second at the time and we decided to join forces and it was so much fun for us! Recently, my sister has taken a step back from blogging and is pursuing different passion and focusing solely on her family, so the blog has evolved again into an outlet for me. I am an extrovert and love talking with new people/sharing recipes/getting advice/looking at the newest trends/home decor/etc. so blogging just seems like a good fit for my personality. I am a stay at home mommy first and foremost, but the blog has allowed me to have something else that’s just mine and just for me.”
As a patient advocate, you also become somewhat of a confidante and voice of reason for your peers in the community.
What I do want—is for people to recognize what compassion fatigue is…and how as chronic illness advocates and caretakers we need to be mindful of how we’re feeling and internalizing the struggles of those around us.
I offer support from the bottom of my heart, but as a mom and a wife, I do need to recognize when it’s time to unplug and take time for myself. When my baby naps each morning—I spend that “break” on my computer writing articles about IBD, participating in Twitter Chats, and talking on the phone with those who want to hear about my patient experience.
As part of my self-care and disease management I need to de-stress, so I don’t put my own health at risk. This article is painful for me to write—I can’t stand admitting that I am struggling to do it all. But, compassion fatigue has been something I’ve been feeling for a few months. I want to be the best advocate for others and do all I can to make a difference and show there’s so much life to be lived outside of your disease. I want you to see how much you can thrive with this disease and all that you can accomplish. I want to be the person I needed the day my world turned upside down when I was diagnosed. I want to be all the things. But it’s not possible. It’s not fair to me, it’s not fair to you.
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.
Throw in an unpredictable, often debilitating condition and tackling the role is even more challenging.
Becoming a mom has made every poke and prod, injection and procedure less of a pain, because now I have so much more to fight for.
As people we grow. Each chapter of our lives matters and is part of our story. Embrace the good and even the bad—because it brought you to where you are today. Pain and flares are fleeting and as we all know, so is youth. Our babies grow up so fast, we must hold the feel good moments close and not dwell on past hurt or what could happen tomorrow.
hope is he’ll realize what an integral role and life-changing impact he’s had on me since the moment I held him in my arms for the first time.
est to paint a picture for you. My legs feel like complete jelly. My brain feels in a fog. I feel so lethargic; the thought of showering seems overwhelming. I’m not in pain. My stomach feels fine. But, there’s something “off” and you feel it with every part of your being.
Living in the Midwest, I didn’t want two winter days with temps in the 80s to pass without enjoying them. I knew the fresh air and exercise would be a welcome excursion for my little man and me. Did those two walks with the stroller push me to my limits? What is too much? What is not enough? At 34, you feel lazy when you can’t keep up or have to admit you’re just too tired. You look perfectly fine on the outside, you feel like those around you wonder if you try and take advantage of your disease.
that stated, “Fatigue in IBD is experienced by up to 86 percent of patients with active disease and 41 percent in remission.” It’s crazy how common this is! For people with IBD, fatigue can be physical, mental or a combination of both.
We tried new medications, but after eight months of no change in my small bowel, my gastroenterologist thought it was time to say goodbye to the diseased portion of my intestines. I remember the phone call from her just saying “I’m going to give this to you bluntly, you need to get them out.” At first, I was shocked, then angry that my body was failing me. I brought my husband to my surgery consultation, and I’ll never forget the look on his face as the surgeon was asking me very detailed symptom questions and I was answering them honestly. It was a look as if I had by lying to him for years. Even my husband, the person I spend every waking hour with, have been with for almost six years and since I was diagnosed, didn’t fully understand how bad my disease had gotten in the last three years.
As a mom and a wife, I questioned how my family would make do without me… But as surgery drew closer and I was in so much pain that I could only eat liquids and was basically confined to the fetal position, I knew it was time.
Getting surgery has changed my life in just 12 weeks. I can’t even imagine how much it’s going to change my life in the next year or two. I know the statistics aren’t in my favor, but until then I will totally be living my best life with a foot less of intestine and a bigger smile on my face!
The relentless and all too familiar pain will take my breath away. I’ll call my husband, frantic, scared and emotional. My mind will race. This can’t happen. I can’t leave my baby. I can’t walk out this door doubled over in pain and not know when I’m going to be back home. This flare up will be worse than any I’ve encountered in the past. This time it’s not just about me anymore. It’s about him.
When you’re hospitalized, wearing a gown, attached to an IV pole and looking less than stellar…how do you pretend? How do you protect your little ones from the unknown? This isn’t the mommy they know and love. Kids are more intuitive than we give them credit for.
As much as we want to protect our loved ones from knowing how deep our pain lies, sharing and allowing them to be a part of our patient journey is important. It’s a big part of who we are and God forbid someday they too inherit the disease, we have to set an example that it’s nothing to be ashamed of and that it doesn’t have to rob you of living a beautiful life.
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