Food is my new medicine

If you've been following my blog or my Instagram for any amount of time you'll notice I am scatter brained about what I am interested in discussing, but there is one recurring theme: food. I don't have an addiction to food or even a love/hate relationship with food. I have a fascination with food. I love to shop for it, research the best recipe for it and then to finally enjoy some good quality time cooking it. I relax by cooking the way most people relax sipping a glass of Merlot.

When I first got sick almost 5 years ago, I approached it the same way I did every cold, flu or ear infection that I had in my lifetime: find the right medicine and then I'll get better. First was the steroids, which I was supposed to be on for a weekend which turned into 8 months. Then was the methotrexate, which is used as a chemotherapy for cancer patients and makes you want to throw up all the time. Then came the weekly injections which actually suppress my immune system to keep my disease under control. These meds helped and I am so grateful for that. I was finally able to be a mom. I was able to carry my baby up the stairs without pulling on the banister for support. And I've been on these meds since, except for while I was pregnant with my son (pregnancy naturally suppresses the immune system which works out nicely for me.) But these medications are not without their own side-effects. I catch any cold that comes around and if I get the flu it could be very serious, so I always get the flu shot, which I'm not really crazy about. It is also known to cause malignant forms of skin cancer and lymphoma. I actually had my first 'atypical' growth removed this spring. I always said that I would rather live a better quality of life rather than a quantity of years, but how short will my life be cut because of these drugs? What kind of gamble is that? That's not fair to my family. So I have been on a quest (with my doctor's blessing) to try to get off these meds. It's been quite a process.

The one thing I now know without a doubt is that the food I eat directly affects my disease. Figuring out exactly which foods help and which foods harm has been how I've spent most of my summer. (Sounds fun, right?) I've pretty much watched every food documentary available on Netflix and HuluPlus and done countless hours of research on the Internet. We switched to all organic and as local as possible several months ago. Organic is a switch I was hesitant to make because of the crazy hike in our food budget. But how can I expect to get better if I am ingesting pesticides on vegetables which purposely kill living things? Or antibiotics and growth hormones in meat which alter the way the animal should naturally grow? Why was that such a hard sell? Once we went organic I read more about nutrients. Did you know that as soon as a fruit or vegetable is picked it begins to loose nutrients? So the longer it takes to get from the field to your fork, the less nutrients will get in your body. So, local doesn't just support your local farmer, it's actually better for your health. After going organic I had hoped that getting off medications would be easy, but it wasn't until recently that I really see a light at the end of the tunnel.

A few weeks ago I turned on yet another food documentary, Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead. If you haven't seen it I highly recommend doing so. The movie follows Aussie Joe Cross on a cross country road trip while he's doing a 60 day juice fast. No food, only freshly extracted juice from a juicer. He encourages others to join him and the results are inspiring. I have long been wanting to do some kind of detox and this movie reignited that goal. I began researching juicing that very night. A few days later a very generous friend loaned me a juicer and I started experimenting. I asked my husband to join me for a 10 day fast, kind of expecting him to laugh at me, but to my delight he said yes!

His and Hers Juices, Day 1 

In the days leading up to the fast I weaned my coffee habit down to one cup a day and starting eating more fruits and veggies. Another supportive friend lent me The Juicing Bible full of great recipes and I scoured several juice plans on the web for ideas.

This is an actual before and after. It takes a LOT of fresh fruits and veggies to make juice.
I don't have a cost analysis per day, but we tripled our food budget for those 10 days!
But it was still less than a medical bill I recently received for a routine check up. Keep perspective!  

The leftover pulp. Really wish we had started composted when we started this, but we didn't have it all together. We plan on composting soon, though!

We started the fast on a Sunday so we could see how this new normal would look at home. We didn't do too much and I slept off a caffeine headache in the afternoon. The first few days were the toughest because of the caffeine, but I wasn't terribly hungry (I am, of course, only speaking for myself.) I did have a very vivid dream on day 2 of raiding the kitchen and eating everything in sight, only to wake up in the middle of the night chewing on my pillow. Yum. After Day 3 the caffeine headaches subsided and I actually started to have a sustained amount of energy throughout the whole day. As the toxins began to leave my body I had a few new aches and pains, but not the same inflammation my body usually fights.  Days 4 & 5 I even cleaned my house top to bottom (which I don't normally do, ever.) Day 5 was the night I had a slip and after that temptation seemed to be everywhere. But I held strong and made it to Day 10! My husband did amazingly well and I am so proud of him for supporting me through this even though the lack of food made him less than happy.

Juice is so beautiful when freshly extracted! I grew to look forward to the rainbow of colors.

I really thought it was kind of funny to buy this 25 pound bag of carrots. The cashier asked me if I owned a horse...

                                      

                                       Turns out we are the horses.
                                                  I used those last few carrots to make my final juice on Day 10. 

 The night of day 10 we broke fast. I broke fast very slowly and started with just fruits and veggies the first two days then included meat and dairy and some grains (corn and rice). I still have yet to eat any wheat. The reason I am slowly reintroducing food is so that I can possibly pinpoint any food allergies which may trigger inflammation. When you first start feeding a baby solid food you are supposed to wait 3 days before introducing a new food in case of an allergic reaction. I am babying myself, so to speak.

My first chew: portabello mushrooms, green peppers and onions and fruit.  ParTay! 

The results have been pretty amazing. First, we both unintentionally lost weight. I lost 10 pounds and my husband lost 15. In 10 days. I'm sure we'll both regain some, but that wasn't our goal at all, so it was surprising. As far as my medication... I took my shot 2 days before the fast started and I haven't taken it since. It's been 18 days! And I feel good! Previously I've only been able to go 10 days in between injections and that was with a fair amount of pain and pain meds. I haven't even needed to take ibuprofen. The other night my knee and ankle started to swell up so I made myself a juice of apple, ginger and parsley. (disclaimer- ginger juice is awesome for inflammation, but when drank by itself, it feels like fire going down your throat. Best to mix!) The pain and inflammation went away within 30 minutes! That's so amazing to me! Food can be my new medicine!

The power of prayer hasn't been lost on me throughout this process either. I truly know that God has been putting this matter on my heart for a long time. I was afraid to let go of the things of this world and ask for healing while truly believing it could happen. I was reminded earlier this summer when I began a bible study on James that trials are indeed a gift which produce perseverance.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord.Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do. (James 1:2-8)

So not only have I been asking people to pray for me for wisdom and healing, but I have been asking with the belief that I will be healed. And here I am, on my way to being healed, with a cocktail of mixed fruits and veggies in my hand. Cheers! Here's to your health!

(I'm excited to hear people have an interest in starting juicing endeavors of their own! As with every diet, you should always consult a doctor before you begin. And let me know if you do- I will be your prayer warrior and biggest cheerleader!)

Did you know that?

As I explained in my last post, after my recent autoimmune flare-up I knew that I could no longer continue to gloss over my disease to my daughter. She saw her mommy in pain, in tears, and her world wasn't as stable as I usually try to make it. Let me give you a little backstory on previous times this little angel has seen me in tears.

Last winter my grandmother had been having some health problems. I just got off a phone call with her finding out she may need to have some risky open heart surgery. I was upset so I retreated to my bathroom and started crying. Lily, age 3 then, was in the other room playing, but she heard me. She always hears me. I realize that now. She came into the room with her little play princess cell phone and handed it to me and said, "Mommy, call God, he'll answer you." You see we had recently started memorizing scripture with Truthcards and the previous week our verse was Psalm 120:1, "I call on the Lord in my distress and he answers me." So naturally, as I stared at that little princess play phone and I looked up at Lily with her eyes so full of hope and knowing that she had the answer for me... I cried even harder, but then I laughed and hugged her and told her how very, very right she was. And we sat on that bathroom floor together and prayed for my grandmother. She ended up needing a more minor surgery and is doing well.

Several months later, right after Lily tuned 4, I was packing the kids in the car to head to a meeting at church. I was startled to see a dead baby deer on my neighbors front lawn. It had apparently gotten stuck in my neighbor's fence in his backyard and died, but he brought it up front when doing yardwork to bag it up. Great. Thanks for that. And when I saw it I screamed out loud so I brought my kids attetion straight where I didn't want it to be. Nice job, Mommy. Then as we pull out of the driveway, Lily asks me why that man was putting the sleeping baby deer in a trash bag. Was he trash? I felt an urge to make up a story about how deer take naps in trash bags instead of beds, but thankfully that's not what came out of my mouth. I explained that he was dead. We had never known anyone who was dead before and she was too young to remember our cat who died when she was 2, so it was hard to explain what dead meant. I found us having a very sweet conversation about heaven.
"Who goes to heaven, Mommy? Will I go to heaven?"
"Yes, but not for a long time."
"Because I have Jesus in my heart? Will Jesus come with me in my heart to heaven?"
"Jesus will always be with you. No matter where you go."
"Mommy, let's pray about it right now."

So in that 5 minute ride to church my 4 year old was praying for Jesus to come into her heart so he could be with her in heaven. Not quite where or how I had planned on discussing salvation, but there was a reason for that dead baby deer that morning...
3 days later my grandfather suddenly passed away. We found out about it at night, but the next morning I came downstairs before anyone was awake to call my dad and see how he was doing. After I got off the phone the realization that Gramps was really gone hit me hard and I cried. I was crying so hard I didn't hear the pitter patter of little feet come down the stairs. Lily. She had heard me. Of course.

"Mommy, what's wrong? Why do you have water coming out of your eyes?"
"Sweetie, Gramps died last night and I'm sad about it because I'll miss him very much."
"But mommy, why are you sad? That means he's in heaven with Jesus."
More tears, more hugging, more blown away by this little angel.
"Yes, sweetie, he is. You're right."

Gramps and Lily picking beans from his garden

Sometimes I'm not ready to have these conversations with my daughter. I'm sure the time will come when I have to experience all these things with my son as well ina different way. But I've learned that its not my timing. It's God's timing. 

So after my flare up I felt a Holy Spirit nudge that I needed to explain to my almost 5 year old what's wrong with Mommy. So my mother watched my son that day as I picked Lily up from vacation bible school and took her out to lunch. After we had ordered, I explained to her that mommy is okay. I said that I have a disease, a sickness that sometimes makes my body hurt even though you can't see a boo boo. I explained that it was just the way God made me. And I said that the disease will probably never go away, but it can be controlled by medicine. She almost cut me off mid-sentence when the word 'control' came out of my mouth. 

"No, no mommy. God is in in control. Did you know that?"

The eagerness behind her words showed that this was something that she has just learned and she couldn't wait to share it with me. Naturally, I started crying. I said, "You're right sweetie. Sometimes Mommy forgets." 

Thank God for this little angel in my life who can keep Mommy in check. I get goose bumps every time I think of these conversations. The Lord has given her such amazing spiritual gifts and I am so excited to see how she uses them in the years to come. 

The past two weeks when I have gotten bummed about my disease I hear those words. 

"God is in control. Did you know that?"

It's a reminder we all need sometimes. And you never know what messenger God is going to use. So be on the look out. 

Trying to gain control...

I've opened up before about the health issues I've been dealing with going on 5 years now. I've also shared about some things we are doing to change our eating habits to hopefully change the course of our health. So I wanted to share with you the journey I am now taking.

Several weeks ago I visited my doctor's office to discuss tapering off my meds. It just doesn't sit well with me that I am angst ridden over the origin of every piece of food that crosses my lips, but then I inject myself with a medication each week that actually weakens my immune system. Intentionally. I want to gain some control of this disease. That shouldn't be so hard, right? 

So my doctor gave me his blessing to start on this path. And he actually prayed with me about it. My doctor is awesome like that. We both believe in the Great Healer. We decided I would try to go 2 weeks in between shots and the 3, etc. until I figured out the lowest dose I could comfortably take. 

I was so gung-ho about it! The day I should have taken my medicine came and went without the least bit of pain or inflammation. And then I went on to day 8 and day 9. On day 10 I felt tired, but nothing more so I laid down to rest during naptime. I felt a strange cramp in my foot as I rested, but thought little of it. And then I got up to get the kids up from nap. And I couldn't walk. I couldn't put any weight on my foot without seering pain coursing throughout my body. I had to crawl to my kids rooms to get them up and then crawl down the stairs on my bottom like a 2 year old. Next to my 2 year old who was thinking we were playing a game. Then I put ice on it as my kids watched a movie while we waited for Daddy to get home. 

The pain got worse and worse until I was crying from the pain. They were tears born not only from the pain I was experiencing then, but the pain I had experienced almost 5 years earlier. Tears born out of pain, frustration, fear, anxiety, uncertainty, anger. Very familiar tears. 

But this time my tears didn't fall on the face of a newborn baby who was blissfully ignorant to her mother's situation. This time they were witnessed by children who were fully aware that something was indeed wrong with Mommy. I tried to explain that my foot had a boo boo, but you just can't see it. My son told me to get a Band Aid. So sweet. But there was fear in my daughter's eyes. Real fear. And I felt horrible. But it only fueled my tears. 

I crawled to the refrigerator, then to my bathroom and gave myself my shot. Once my husband got home, he fed the kids and put them to bed. Then I called a neighbor who is a great friend who came over to hang with my sleeping kids while my husband took me to the ER. 

We waited for 2 hours, but the girl with the autoimmune flare up understandably took the back seat to the real life-threatening emergencies that came in, so I kept getting put to the end of the line. As we waited my foot slowly started to feel better as the shot started to work it's magic of destroying my white blood cells. So I decided to go home. My husband wheeled me out and I told the triage nurse we were leaving. 

The next couple of days my foot continued to improve and I felt confirmation that my body is in fact not ready to come off my medication that quickly. I need to take slower steps and this week I went 7 days and 12 hours between doses. Maybe next week I can do 8. We'll see. 

But the real story here is that the next day I was faced with telling my almost 5 year old that mommy has a disease. 

Please join me in my next post as I discuss how that conversation went down. You won't want to miss it! It reminded me who is really in control in this situation...

Here's the next post!

Eat Local Challenge

A few weeks ago I shared a little bit about my hubby's health challenges in this post and I've shared about my health challenges in this post. So not to whine about our issues again (whaaaaaah!) you can read those if you like. Well we just got my hubby's latest blood test results and we are celebrating that he has once again lowered his cholesterol without the use of medication! Yay! So it's more confirmation for us that we can't continue to sit back and blame genetics for our health issues. Yes, genetics clearly play a huge roll in the issues we have, but it's how we respond to those issues that will affect our health in the long run. Also, we have a huge responsibility for teaching our children how to take care of their bodies, minds and souls. I don't want my daughter thinking she can eat french fries and hot dogs for every meal simply because it tastes good to her. Because it's not good for her. And she and our son now have multiple strikes again them in the genetics department. So how can we prevent them from experiencing the symptoms we've experienced? We need to teach them how to eat. But to do that we first need to reteach ourselves how to eat. Over the past 2 years we (mostly meaning me, since I cook and shop for our family) have become obsessed with how to save money on our monthly grocery budget. I became more of a stay-at-home mom and we had to cut from our budget somewhere (cancel internet service, you say? Go wash your mouth out with soap!) I've been so narrow minded in my couponing ways that I have had blinders on to something even more valuable- our family's health. We have eaten more processed food and less real food. We certainly haven't eaten anything organic or local on a regular basis because I thought we just couldn't afford it. But I've discovered that we can't afford not to eat better. The saying "Pay your farmer now or pay your doctor later" really hit home with me and I felt like God has been telling us to make a drastic change.

So, over the past couple of months I have vowed to not turn a blind eye any longer.  We are beginning the process of educating ourselves more and making better decisions for the big picture! We need to make educated decisions for our health and well being and we need to know where our food comes from, how is it being raised and who we are supporting by buying it. Seems simple enough, right? Well, it kind of is. But it's also overwhelming. At first, I was researching too much too quickly and started having nightmares about genetically engineered foods chasing me through giant soybeans fields. Seriously, that happened. So, I went back to square one and just started looking into what our options were locally. That's when I discovered a really easy local challenge. April is Eat Local month in Charleston and the challenge can be as drastic as you want it to be. You can commit to changing a few things or everything. Like spending 10% of your grocery budget on local food or you can make a little bigger of a commitment like spending 100% of your grocery budget on local food. We are somewhere in between right now as we get our feet wet. We have signed up for a CSA with Our Local Foods and we have discovered some other great local products through that site. Some foods we knew about like the free range chicken from chicken whisperer Nate Davis at Thornhill Farms (which is delish!) and quite a bit more products that we didn't know about, like the low temperature pasteurized, non- homogenized milk from the Happy Cow Creamery- I'm not a milk drinker, but that stuff is ah-ma-zing!

Mmmm... free-range... well it was once.  

Our Local Foods delivery this week! Delivery right to my kitchen for a few dollars extra (so worth it!)

 We've also signed up for a CSF (That's community supported fishery) through Abundant Seafood on Shem Creek right in our town of Mount Pleasant. We haven't picked up yet, but I'm really excited to pick up fish right on the docks! The kids are going to love that! 

And we've also been dining out locally. Last week we enjoyed an incredible date night feast at 17 North Roadside Kitchen  which serves all local food and they know how to serve it up right! 

Do you see my pork chop? That's the small size portion, y'all!

And the local shopping has been a blast, too. The kids are in love with our local farm store at Boone Hall. It may be the free samples of fresh ground peanut butter. Or the fact that I don't have to strap them into those giant car carts that I hate to maneuver down the aisles.

Sure, I'll get a bunch of apples to hide the chocolate truffle at the bottom of the bag. Genius! 

Picking our own strawberries at Boone Hall

And what does an all local dinner plate look like? Well, this is what we had tonight:

New York Strip from McCutchen Farms topped with shiitake mushrooms from Mepkin Abbey, asparagus & collard greens from Boone Hall Farms, potatoes from Thornhill Farms, with a side of sourdough bread from Normandy Farms Bakery topped with pimento cheese made in-house at Kitchen Table Cuisine. And all the herbs I used to season the food were from our own backyard.

So what will our grocery list look like after the Eat Local Challenge ends in April? I'm thinking we will be working a lot of these things into our budget on a permanent basis to help improve our overall health. And showing our kids that the food we eat can come from right down the street instead of the produce section at the big-box grocery store may just set something in motion. Good habits start young. 

So who wants to join us in this challenge? You can register here and print out this scorecard to help you come up with goals and keep track of them. 

We're having a blast! And I feel better than I have in a LONG time. My joints aren't inflamed and I have more energy than I've had since before I had kids. My long term goal is to get off my super-crazy once-a-week-injected, possibly cancer-causing medication. With the assistance of my doctor, of course. But for the first time in years I see a light at the end of that tunnel. I see it as a possibility. And that's a straight from above miracle right there. Can I get a A-men?

Golden Girls moment

The other day I had a serious Golden Girls moment. Not a moment where I remember a funny, yet cliche punchline of Sophia's or where I see a scantily clad, sassy, older woman who reminds me of Blanche. It's a moment where I realize I am getting exponentially closer to becoming a Golden Girl myself!

I may get this as a tattoo

It was while I was driving home the other day. I passed by a boy driving a Jeep with the top down. And I do mean BOY. I thought, "I can't believe this kid is out joy riding in his parents car. Maybe they don't know. Maybe I should call the police. Someone could get hurt!" And then after I resisted the 911 call I started to think. "Maybe he is old enough to be driving. Is that possible? I've probably been driving since before he was born!" And then I started to do some math and my mouth actually fell open and I said out loud, "No way!" I've been driving for 17 years and seeing as how they really do give licenses to children in this state, it is totally possible and probable that I have been driving since before he was even conceived. Golden Girl, go get your glasses chain and old lady purse and start looking at real estate in South Florida! When did time hit warp speed? It seems like just yesterday that I was riding around in my own Jeep with the top down. 

That's me in the driver seat.
It was my last summer in Buffalo with my gal pals.
Circa 1997. 

Now don't get me wrong, I am totally fine with getting older, but I can do without all the constant reminders. All those young people flaunting it in my face. My joints not working properly. My hairs rapidly turning gray. So after much debate I finally decided to take away some of those reminders. There will always be younger, more energetic people who have cat-like reflexes and nimble joints. But as for the gray hairs... I bid you farewell, good sirs.

A few weeks ago at a get together I casually mentioned to some girlfriends that I was thinking about just letting my hair go gray naturally. You could almost hear the sound effect of a record scratching. "Say what, Stacie? We think not." I even had a few offer to come to house and hold me down and douse me with dye. So I started to give it some serious thought and I came to this conclusion: I am getting older, but I have enough reminders of that fact, so why do I have to be reminded further every time I look in the mirror.

My major resistance has been that I haven't dyed or highlighted my hair in years. It's been 100% my own color. Not Revlon's, not Clairol's, not Loreal's, not Garnier's, not a super overpriced salon's. I know you're all shaking your heads and can't believe I'm outing myself on my blog, but guess what? I'm not trying to fool any of you. I am 33, going on 40, then 50, then 60, and by God's grace a few years more. No, I'm not trying to fool anyone, but maybe myself. If I have to hobble out of bed in the morning I should at least look my best doing it! That's what Blanche would say.

And so it begins! Hello Dark Mahogany Brown! 

The unexpected...

There are plenty of unexpected moments involved in motherhood.
Ahhh, the unexpected joys! The flutter in your belly that you thought was a result of bad fish tacos, but turned out to be little baby movements soon to turn into swift Pele-style kicks to various organs and nerves. The first time you hear your child clearly utter 'Momma' instead of incoherent baby babble. The first time your toddler poops in the potty and you dance around the bathroom like a teenager at prom, complete with doing the running man (ok, yes, that was me this week).
But there are unexpected pains, too. The sound of your baby crying hysterically at 3am and nothing you do will soothe her. When you first hear of your child being excluded on the school playground and you know you probably can't track down the child's parents and straighten them out. When your nose realizes your son has had his first potty training accident in your kitchen pantry while playing hide-and-seek (yes, also me this week).
Most of these are things that other mothers will experience in one form or another. But sometimes motherhood can deliver something entirely unexpected...
My first pregnancy wasn't all that wonderful, but I made it through and was induced at 37 weeks. A healthy, happy baby girl was the result and all the craziness of 6 weeks of bedrest and 80 pounds of baby weight was forgiven and forgotten.

We experienced the same things most parents experience the first few weeks. Like the sleep deprivation that people warn you about, but you can't even possibly understand until you've experienced it for yourself. Then you realize why that's used as a torture method for prisoners of war. And the agony of making sure the baby is eating enough. Which side did I last feed on? What time was that? How long was the feeding? What day is it? How many poopy diapers? What? Are you talking to me? Oh, sorry, I think I fell asleep.
But, we also experienced the intense joy of being parents. In all seriousness, while we were still pregnant we looked at our 75 pound mutt of a dog and said to each other, "How can we possibly have rooms in our hearts to love someone more Willie?" Seriously. We were those dog people that didn't understand what was so great about kids. So we got to experience the amazing love that grows inside your heart and blossoms between husband and wife to where you realize,"Oh, we created new life. That was cool."

But while basking in that afterglow, my journey into motherhood was thrown a curveball. In the middle of the night I woke up to feed Lily and noticed my ankle hurt. I thought I must have stepped on a dog toy going to her bassinet. "Stupid dog", I thought. The next morning I woke up and could not even stand on the ankle. It was swollen and extremely painful and I just couldn't believe my luck that I had somehow broken my ankle with a 4 week old baby to care for. My husband stayed home from work and we went to the hospital and after x-rays no fracture was found. I bounced around to several different doctor's and was put on a crazy dose of steroids to relieve the swelling. Then the pain and swelling travelled to the rest of my body. My knees, my hips, my fingers and wrists. I got to where I was afraid I may drop my baby and didn't quite trust myself to take care of her. Fortunately my parents live close by. My mother was almost a surrogate mother to her new grandbaby and my caretaker for a few months. I couldn't get out of bed to even change a diaper at one point. My mom brought her to my bed so I could feed her and try to be a mom. Once I could get out of bed I couldn't walk up or down the stairs without sitting down and going down one at a time on my bottom like a 2 year old. I couldn't sit down or stand up without grabbing onto the walls and using my arms to pull my weight. My mom and my husband were like my right and left arms. Without them I don't know what would have happened to me.

Lots of couchtime! 

Those were some dark days. I cried a lot. I cried at every doctor's appointment and yelled and wanted answers and was frustrated and confused. What disease do I have? Am I dying? Why can't you fix me? I have a baby! Don't you see I need to be a mom? Why me? Why now? What did I do wrong?
Then it became a game of treating the symptoms without a diagnosis. Just get the joint swelling the go away and then we'll figure it out. If you've ever been unfortunate enough to go on prednisone for anything, you know that it is a crazy drug. It makes you hungry, irritable, unable to sleep, emotional and fat. Yes, fat. My face puffed up like I was having an allergic reaction to bee sting. So, instead of losing weight after having a baby, all the weight stayed on and I actually looked fatter! How encouraging for a postpartum first-time mom!

My balloon face...

A few months later I started to slowly ween myself off the steroids and started methotrexate, a drug used in chemotherapy for cancer patients. It's highly dangerous to breastfeed while taking this drug so I had to weigh all my options and finally decide to quite breastfeeding, cold turkey, so that I could give myself a chance at being healed and be a better mother to my child. I fed my daughter for the last time in my mom's car in the rheumatologist's parking lot. It was a terrible decision to have to make and I was angry about it and I'm crying right now even thinking about it. But I would do it again in a heartbeat. It was a leap of faith. I was lucky enough to find a doctor who would pray with me for my healing at each appointment. I knew that God was able to do immeasurably more than all I could ask or imagine so surely he would heal me.
Well, it took several months and a few more medications, but I was finally able to return to walking up and down the stairs, driving a car, changing diapers, rocking my baby and returning to work full-time. I was lucky enough to go to the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville and see one of top rheumatologists in the country. But he concurred with my local doctor that I did indeed have a HLA-B27 associated undifferentiated spondyloarthoropathy. Say that 3 times fast. I dare ya.Well, it's basically treated the same as rheummatoid arthritis, so that's usually what I tell people so I don't get the head turn of confusion look. I'm blessed to have the opportunity and the health insurance to take an extremely expensive medication once a week which has prevented any joint damage. I deal with chronic pain on a daily basis and moderate flare-ups from time to time. I faired better during my second pregnancy, but I almost went blind in one eye towards the end of the pregnancy because of an acute case of uveitis. Another fun symptom I didn't really know about until it happened. But it was nothing a steroid shot in the eyeball couldn't take care of! No biggie!
And I share this with you not so that you feel sorry for me or pity me in anyway. I mean, I probably wasn't going to climb Mount Everst or run a marathon, but I did enjoy it as being a possibility. In fact, I have altogether stopped praying that God would miraculously heal me from this disease. My prayers have shifted to:

Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done. Luke 22:42

That God would use my brokeness to glorify Him in someway. My point in telling you all about this is because I think there are so many other women out there who have experienced the onset of autoimmune disease as a result of pregnancy. I have stumbled upon many of them since going through all of this. Some of them may never develop symptoms as severely as I did. Some my go through exactly what I did. But the desperation and frustration and confusion that goes on during that crazy time of unknowing can be helped by being in community. I had no community at all. If fact, I had almost no mommy friends at all. I searched all over the internet to reach out to anyone who may have gone through this to try to find answers. So hopefully this story isn't told in vain and can help someone out there who needs hope, who needs community during a dark time. And if you of an online community for this please leave it in the comment section!

And to those who are in my shoes,  let me pray with you. Pray for you. Pray for your family.

And eat a Bon bon, of course.

Or a cupcake, perhaps