*Disclaimer: A few of these posts will become graphic in detail and/or via photos at times. Please feel free to move along if it’s not your type of thing or if you have a weak stomach. These are definitely not feel sorry for me type of posts. I’m just telling a story and it happens to be true. Being able to “write” this down has been a bit therapeutic. Not to mention, its freed up some real estate in my head!

I’ve been gone for quite some time on this blog. Like everyone, life gets busy and sometimes you have to step away from things you love for the people you love. A good friend of mine has been encouraging me for some time now to write about all the happenings in life lately. Though it’s not the more fun and creative stuff I enjoy, it’s still life and it has surely had its impact. That being said, I’m going to dive back a few years and start there for this so-called series. Sit back and grab a snack, these posts are long!

When I was in my twenties…

When I was in my twenties and newly married, I was working as a photo stylist/creative coordinator for Academy’s corporate office out in Katy, TX. A fun job that I really enjoyed. During a conversation one day, with the photographer I worked directly with, we were discussing age. He was older than me but I don’t recall by how much exactly. He told me his favorite age was in his thirties, particularly 35. I was 25 turning 26 at the time and for whatever reason, I always remembered that.

My 30s in general have been great. I have enjoyed them way more than my 20s but I’m quite the old soul. Some not-so-great things were watching my mother in law go through a tough battle of cancer and of course, COVID was an overwhelming disaster for most people in the world. But on the positive side, life became steadier in our 30s, we added Lex to our family, and Chad and I renewed our vows which was such a wonderful time.

That brings me to 35. Leading up to this, after learning we lost Lex’s twin early in that pregnancy, we have always been back and forth about having another baby. Long story short, we decided to go for it. In January, the year I was turning 35, we had a miscarriage. We waited awhile and decided to try again… Another miscarriage that summer. Later on that year I decided to have a fibroid removed as we believed its location was causing our babies to miscarry. We decided to wait a bit after that procedure to let my body properly heal. This was going to be our last shot no matter what as our hearts couldn’t take anymore loss.

 By the grace of God, I got pregnant again. I found out at four weeks and was counting down the days till my ultrasound at 8 weeks. It was quite nerve racking. I was praying I didn’t start cramping or bleeding, which in my past meant I was going to miscarry. The nausea at this point was much welcomed as it helped me mentally know my body was functioning as if it were pregnant. Aside from that, I was excited. I already had two kids, and I really felt like I was prepared for a third. I knew FOR SURE that this would be my last pregnancy, so I told myself I really wanted to enjoy it. I’ve never been one to enjoy pregnancy. I never felt beautiful or like I was glowing. I just always felt large and swollen and sweaty most days! LOL. But I really wanted this time to be different. And my goodness time would tell me it most definitely would be.

April 28^th, 2021 comes, and I was pumped about my appointment. Covid was still around so I had to go to the appointment alone. My OBGYN is usually in the medical center but since I now had two kids, I decided to move to a closer doctor to save some drive time.

I joked with the doctor and said, “As nauseous as I am, there better be a baby in there!” She laughed and said, “Maybe it’s twins” and we both giggled. She started the ultrasound and as soon as it came up on the screen, she tilted her head and did a soft chuckle. I was clueless. She turned the screen and said, “It’s twins!” I just gazed at her and the screen and said, “Is it really?!” I was stunned to say the least. When I was pregnant with Lex and Ash, I knew from the moment the stick showed two lines that it was twins. I didn’t tell anybody in case I was wrong, but I knew in my heart it was twins. With these babies, I had no idea. I wish Chad and I could have experienced that moment together. I remember with Lex and Ash, I had an early ultrasound for some minor bleeding that started early on. We really didn’t think anything of at the time so I went to the appointment alone and that’s when I saw their two little hearts beating. I was so excited for Chad to come with me to the next appointment in two weeks so he could see our babies. At our next appointment, Ash no longer had a heartbeat, and he was already starting to be reabsorbed. I was the only one who ever got to see them alive together and I hate that he didn’t get that chance.

At this point I was excited, but also double worried about miscarrying. We only shared the news with close family and friends as it was still so early in the game. My usual rule for myself is not to announce a pregnancy til I hit 12 weeks since the chances for miscarriage at that point drop significantly. When I was pregnant with Lex and Ash I broke that rule and it was incredibly painful to have to tell people I lost one of my babies. This time around I was super cautious.

So here I was with just a few weeks left of being 35. It looked like 35 had its rough patches for sure but it was rounding out to still be positive. For the next two weeks we spent most of our days imagining what life was going to be like with not just twins, but four kids in total!

This brings me to May 9th, 2021…

This brings me to May 9th, 2021. It’s Mother’s Day! I woke up that morning at about 5 a.m. to go to the bathroom. The regular ol middle of the night pregnancy pee. I did my business and plopped myself back into bed. After that, things got interesting.

I remember being in a dream. It was very bright outside and all I remember being present was myself and my friend’s father. I was kind of standing back and just observing him. He was doing some gardening, and he was moving things from one spot to another. We never spoke, I just stood there and watched him go back and forth from one spot to the other. I was very confused because my friend’s father had passed away a few months prior. I knew I had attended his viewing service so I couldn’t understand how I could see him right there in front me.

As I was coming out of this dream, or state of mind, I felt like I was trying to swim. My right arm and right leg were moving up and outward in a swimming motion. I was trying to get myself out of bed but couldn’t and I couldn’t figure out why. I stopped for a minute and just stayed still. I then tried to pick my head up. When I did so, it felt like I was a cartoon in a scene after it gets hit or falls. You know when the character picks their head up and the graphic shows stars spinning around its head. It was a weird kind of unbalanced and wobbling feeling, yet I wouldn’t call it dizzy either. It was different.

From there I tried to roll over on my left side. All I could do was reach my right arm over to my left one. In doing so, I realized I couldn’t feel it. I could lift it but very slowly. I just kept turning it in front of my face and touching it with my right hand as I tried to understand why I couldn’t feel it.

At this point I was causing a lot of commotion in the bed, and it ended up waking Chad up. He asked me what I was doing in which my response was, “I can’t feel my arm.” I don’t think I have ever seen him jump out of bed so fast. He jumped up, pulled the blankets off me and said, “Can you feel this?” He was touching my left foot. I quickly answered no, and it was in that moment I knew something was very wrong. He said, “You’re having a stroke, I’m calling an ambulance.” I felt a rush of blood come over me that was filled with fear and anxiety, and I grabbed my stomach, and cried. I thought, “This is it; I am going to lose our babies.”

While we waited for the ambulance, Chad checked everything he could. My left hand could squeeze his hand very lightly and slowly but not like a solid handshake. I smiled and he said I did have some slight left facial drooping. I have never been more grateful for Chad’s job than in this very moment. He is not a doctor but has worked in the stroke department via research since Cadel was three months old. He has had the privilege of working with some of the best neurologist Texas has to offer and his knowledge and awareness of strokes saved me.

Chad had the front door open, and I could hear the sirens coming down the main road to our neighbor. While he was busy getting the boys up and dressed, I was laying there trying my hardest to lift my dang leg up. I couldn’t move or feel ANYTHING from the waist down. It was insane. Thankfully, right before the ambulance arrived, I slowly started to get some feeling back. I was so grateful for this because there was no way the stretcher was going to cut the sharp corners to make it into our bedroom. I convinced them that I could move it enough and feel it enough to stand and walk to the hall. At this point I just felt like I was heavily medicated. You know that “cocktail” they give you right before you get wheeled back to surgery? That’s what it felt like.

I was able to get to the hall and they loaded me on the stretcher. My poor boys were sitting on the stairs wide eyed and wrapped in blankets just watching me get wheeled out the door. I did my best to smile at them and told them not to worry, I would be fine. I felt terrible because I know they were excited about breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day and instead I was leaving the house via ambulance.

A small part of me was hoping and praying I could leave the neighborhood low key without any of my neighbors catching a glimpse of me being loaded into the ambulance. I’m over here having a stroke, but I am worried about my neighbors seeing me, stupid I know but that’s what was going through my head.

Alrighty, so we live in the suburbs and Chad works in the medical center. The ambulance would not take me all the way into Houston so I had to go to a local hospital. When I got there, they immediately did a CT scan, without contrast of course because I was pregnant. Then we sat and waited. CT scan came back showing nothing. I requested an ultrasound, but they would not do one. They did however do the little doppler. She said she found two heartbeats, but it honestly wasn’t enough for me, I wanted/needed to see them.

Once we finally saw the doctor, he wanted to admit me of course to do an MRI. We were told that it was very “rare” for a mother to have a stroke this early in the pregnancy, but he wanted to do the MRI just to make sure. We explained to him that Chad’s team is in the medical center and that is where we felt most comfortable being for this. We convinced him to release me if we agreed to leave and go to Hermann and that is what we did. I could have gone via ambulance, but I wanted to avoid that cost if I could. I mostly felt normal unless I was lying flat, then I would get nauseous. We left there, ran by the house so I could get shoes and some clothes, and then off to Hermann we went.

Up until this point, I have been very lucky, and I’ve not had many ER experiences for myself, outside of maybe one I can think of as a child. Being in an ER waiting room in one of the largest cities in the country, I saw some things… I remember one young woman, maybe young twenties, in there for stomach pain. She of course was balled up in the pain in a chair trying to wait her turn. She would get up every now and then to tell the front desk how much pain she was in, but I imagine they just kept telling her they would get her in as fast as they could. Finally, the woman got tired of waiting as she was thrashing around in multiple chairs trying to lessen her pain. She finally told the person she was with to call an Uber because she didn’t want to sit in pain in there any longer and would rather be at home. On her way out the door, the woman falls to the ground and starts throwing up blood. It was heartbreaking to see her suffer like that but thankfully, they finally took her back. The next person I remember was a guy who came stumbling in. You could tell he was under the influence of something based on the way he was walking, talking and lacked personal space. I think Chad and I both thought in our heads, “Please don’t let this guy come and bother us.” We, like everyone else there, were under a lot of stress so we didn’t need to add an extra layer of anything added to our plate. He stumbled right in front of us, laid across a bunch of seats and fell asleep. Once we knew he was out, we got up and moved. We didn’t need this guy waking up and coming off of his high or whatever, and freaking out on us.  

I don’t remember how many hours we waited but I was thankful when we finally got a call back. First order of business was the MRI. I have never in my life had an issue with tight spaces but on this night, I learned I was claustrophobic. I’ve had an MRI in the past, but it was on my knee. For this one, they strapped my head into this cage looking thing. They asked if I was claustrophobic, and I of course said no. They gave me the little button to push in case I needed them to take me out, so I had it in my hand not even thinking twice about it. Since the stroke symptoms that morning, anytime I lay flat on my back, it would make me nauseous, so I did feel that but everything else was fine.

They moved me back into the tube and I would say, within a minute I pushed the button. I was freaking out in that tube. The top was so close to my face and the entire device was a flat color and texture that my eyes had nowhere to focus and that set me off. My eyeballs were looking around like crazy trying to find something they could focus on so everything didn’t feel like a blurry mess. Once they pulled me out, I started to cry. I guess I was a bit embarrassed. I knew this was 100% necessary but I mentally did not know how I was going to get through it. The techs however were great and patient with me. They let me take a breather, told me I could leave my mask off which really helped, and they changed my head cage to one that had mirrors in it that would reflect and show me the window where the techs were sitting. Man, that made a world of a difference for me. I wasn’t feeling great but having something to look at and focus on allowed me to focus on the task at hand.

I went back to my room, and we waited. I was in a split room and the guy next to me kept yelling, “Nurse, Nurse” and asking for snacks and help picking up things he was dropping. If anything, it was a bit of comic relief as the nurse would come in and say, “My name is not nurse!” I think it was close to midnight, and the resident said when they looked at the scan quickly they did not see anything, but they needed to wait on the report. I really thought I was going to go home. While we waited the hospital was very gracious and did an ultrasound for me. I was very grateful for that and was so relieved to see both babies moving about. It was also a realization that because it was so early, I was the only one concerned about our babies. The doctors were only concerned about me as there was nothing they could do to save them this early in the pregnancy if something was/went wrong. They also could not sustain life without me being so early. Of course I understood this, but as a mother, it was a tough pill to swallow. I knew this was it for us one way or another as far as kids go, so it was a lot to accept in the moment.

The report finally came in…

The report finally came in and they could see a small spot they were not sure about and wanted to do more testing, so I was admitted. They did not have a room available for me at this point, so I was moved to somewhat of a waiting wing. Thankfully here I was by myself. I told Chad to go home and get some sleep as there was no sense in him being balled up on a couch when he could lay in our bed comfortably. It was a wild day, and I knew he needed it. I don’t remember the time, but this was in the wee hours of the morning. As soon as I knew he made it home, I crashed hard. I think I finally got moved to my room about 5 or so in the morning.

I’ll try to wrap up the hospital stay in a nutshell. They did multiple tests on my heart, blood work, 3 more MRI’s and countless other things I am probably leaving out. The final verdict…. I had a bilateral ischemic stroke. I had two small dead spots on each side on my cerebellum. Remember when I said I felt a rush of blood and anxiety when Chad said I was having a stroke? The doctor told me it was possible that the spike in my blood pressure at that moment likely saved me and pushed the clot out of place. I was put on baby aspirin from this point forward and I started Lovenox injections twice a day until I hit three months postpartum. I was one of the lucky ones. I remember working with physical therapy in the hospital and was told to go out in the hallways and walk as much as possible, so I did. Each time I went, I noticed I was the only one doing so in the stroke wing, and I would get stopped multiple times by nurses and staff members asking where I was coming from and if I was supposed to be up. I stayed 3 days I believe.

I was so thankful and grateful to go home, but there was a lot I was not prepared for as well. For starters, stroke tired is a tired like no other. It took a while for me to not have to nap constantly. I’m talking about napping every 2 hours or so. The stroke happened on the 9^th and my birthday was on the 20^th. I remember telling my family I would only last 1.5 hours for my get together before I would be going to take a nap. Drained doesn’t even big to describe it. It’s a bit hard to explain but I read sleep helps the brain recover so I didn’t fight it.

One thing I was not expecting was PTSD. This lasted for a couple of years actually. The first night I came home and slept in my bed, I woke in the middle of the night for the typical pregnancy bathroom break, and I got back to into bed and just cried. I was so scared to go back to sleep fearing it would happen again or that I might not wake up the next time. I don’t remember how long that lasted but it took some time. I also would not shower or use the restroom with the door locked in fear of something happening and Chad or anyone not being able to reach me. The day before my stroke I had a pedicure. I didn’t get pedicures for a good while because I associated it with the stroke. To this day I will not get that exact same service. A couple days before the stroke I got a new pregnancy pillow. I gave it to my sister because it scared me to sleep with it.  It took awhile for me to feel good about driving alone with the kids in car. Obviously, a lot of this was my own anxiety messing with my head, but it was crippling. I also had a hard time accepting what happened. You really can’t plan for these things, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around how this happened to someone who was young and healthy. I spent a lot of time scouring the internet trying to find someone who had been in my shoes, and I really didn’t find anyone to connect with. I joined a lot of support groups, but most women had their strokes toward the end of their pregnancies or postpartum.

A few weeks after the initial stroke, I went in to have another test called a TCD bubble. They strapped a device on my head, shot bubbles through an IV and had me bare down like I was having a bowel movement. I remember on the first attempt the tech said, “Oh you have a textbook PFO.” I guess I looked shocked because she said, “This is a good thing. Now we know the reason.” A PFO (Patent foramen ovale) is a hole between the left and right atria (upper chambers) of the heart. Everyone is born with this, and it typically closes shortly after being born. Around 25% of the population has one and most will never know, until you have a complication.

I remember calling Chad on the way home to tell him and talking about what that meant. We now had the answer we were looking for, but it also made me feel like a ticking time bomb. He happened to be in the driveway when I got home and I just walked up to him, put my head on his shoulder and cried. I remember just saying, “This is a lot.” He cried too as I know it was a lot on his end as well.

The remainder of the pregnancy was nothing but stress for me. I didn’t enjoy it, I wish I did, but I just lived in constant fear. The medical team decided it was best to wait and close the PFO after having the babies, so we did. The Lovenox shots were no fun. I’m not afraid of needles but giving them to myself really made my stomach weak. Just anticipating the needle popping through my skin when I was in control of it freaked me out. Thankfully Chad did them all for me. We tried many places on my body but the butt cheeks had the least sting. My butt was covered in bruises, so it looked like I was literally getting my ass kicked. LOL.

I got in a car wreck in September so that was an extra layer of crazy. It wasn’t my fault, but I did have to do a hospital stay in the middle of a small hurricane. The bonus, they didn’t lose power like we did at home!

I won’t go into too much depth about labor and that first year so to speak because I feel like that is a completely different story on its own. I did have the twins early. They were due Dec. 2^nd and I had them Oct. 25^th. They both had a rough start, Von a bit more than Kyla, so they had NICU time. My recovery was rough. This was my first c-section, and I had my tubes removed as well, so I thought this was the normal response. I learned later down the road that it wasn’t. I will discuss that more in depth later as it will come into play again.

After having the babies…

After having the babies and getting them home, we were just machines for a really long time. Everything felt like an assembly line. I really hated that and wish it could have been different, but we were doing the best we could. Two babies at one time showed us we were playing a totally different ball game this time around. In between focusing on the babies and older kids, I focused on planning my surgery to close the PFO. It was a tough thing to try and plan as we were trying to manage our new life with two babies, and our older boys and seeing when it would be ok for me to be taken out of the equation. It never seemed like a good time. I canceled the procedure the week of twice. But now looking back, I am so glad I did. Something never really felt right about it aside from timing.

Cancelling ended up giving me more time to research. I never felt great about having a piece of metal inside my heart. I knew it would increase my chances for AFIB but it was a risk I thought I had to take. I came across something called Noblestitch. Instead of using what’s called an umbrella device to close the hole, they use a stitch instead. Of course, nothing in medicine is 100% but this sounded a lot better to me. I found a Facebook group for Noblestitch and drowned myself with information, research and people’s personal experiences. Once I felt like a knew enough about it, I showed Chad and he started researching it as well. What was really cool was that I emailed the maker of the device, he responded quickly, and we had a phone conversation with him the next day. We had a list of questions, and he answered every single one of them.

Noblestitch was and still is a lot more prevalent in Europe. I quickly learned that there were no doctors in Texas trained to use Noblestitch. We have one of the best medical centers in this country, but we didn’t have this available here? It was shocking. I also got push back from my neurologist and cardiologist at the time. The cardiologist team said it did not have a good success rate but could not provide me with documentation when I asked. I genuinely wanted to know and read the studies myself so I could make the best decision possible. My neurologist said she would support it if I were doing it under a study. I actually wanted to join the study but I was right outside of the eligible window and could not be a part of it. Another factor I was worried about was having an allergy. As I have gotten older, I have noticed that my ears itch when I wear fake earrings. I was told the umbrella devices are coated and/or the amount of nickel would not cause any problems, but it still made me nervous. That and I spoke to many people who have or had an umbrella device, ended up having a reaction to it and it caused many issues for them. Some even undergoing open heart surgery to have it removed. Yikes….

I also learned along that way that if I had open heart surgery for some other reason, and they found the PFO, they would not put an umbrella device in, they would stitch it closed. That was the deciding factor for me.

We decided we were going to pack our bags, and head to Florida to have the procedure. We asked my mom and dad if they would come with us to help us with the kiddos and they agreed. We were planning to be out there for a week so the family could also enjoy the trip and it not just be full of stress. Up until this point my dad had never been on a plane and he swore he never would. He got a plane for me, and I will never forget his willingness to do so for not only me but for my family. That and I now had proof for my sisters that he did indeed like me the most! LOL! We appreciated both of my parents for being the extra set of hands we needed to get through this.

As we were preparing and finalizing everything for the procedure, I decided I was going to have a blood draw done to test for an allergy to nickel. Like all things, there was no guarantee the stitch would work, so I wanted to know if this was going to be a problem for me if I had to go the route of a device. I remember I got the email with the results as we were waiting on the plane before taking off to Florida. It came back that I was HIGHLY reactive to nickel. I was so relieved in the moment as it helped me realize I made the right choice, not only to go the stitch route, but also to have canceled the other two procedures in the past. It was a reassurance in the ol trust your gut mindset.

If I remember correctly, we booked the trip so that we would have two chill days before the procedure to have some fun as a family. We rented an Airbnb walking distance to the beach and took full advantage of it. The weather was perfect! We took a walk on the beach the first evening we were there just before a storm was rolling in.  It was quite beautiful, and the stillness of the water was really remarkable. I don’t know about anyone else, but I was intrigued by it.

The day of surgery…

The day of the surgery started well. I woke up at 5 a.m. to have some yogurt and my last bit to drink as my procedure was one of the last of the day. That meant I was going to be up and awake for a longtime without being able to eat or drink. I hate it when timing happens that way, but I survived. When I arrived, I met my doctor, and his right-hand nurse named Jackie. I had been communicating with them for months, but I met them for the first time on surgery day. We discussed what would happen if the stitch did not work for some reason, which in those few scenarios, they would put a device. I told them about my allergy/high sensitivity and since that was still new information, I asked them to skip the device, if that ended up being my situation, as I needed more time to think about it.

Like most people, I usually enjoy the nap that comes along with the anesthesia so I was a bit surprised when I never fell asleep. I knew I was not fully going under but I am always sensitive to anesthesia and usually knock out with any amount given. Being awake was such a weird experience. I was watching the doctor, and I could feel everything but not in a painful way. He used a catheter and went in through a vessel in my groin and all the way up to my heart. It felt strange. I remember thinking, as I could feel it going up, “Why am I not bothered that I can feel this line moving up and through my body?” I also remembered that anytime I would feeling uncomfortable, I would turn my head to look at the anesthesiologist , and I guess my face said enough as she would make it all feel better really fast. I ended up needing two stitches as there was an additional little flap they found in there.

The” fun” part was having to lay flat for the next four hours for observation. Of course, I had to go pee during this so they gave me this stick thing you stick down there and it soaks it up and you stay dry. It was weird and I had stage freight as my body would not allow me to just go! LOL. But I got through it. It was super late at this point so I made sure to do everything I needed to so I could go home that night. I remember getting the all clear so I told Chad he could work on getting the car pulled up front. At this point I had not sat up at all and as soon as I did so I was instantly dizzy and super nauseous. Anesthesia never seems to agree with me. Anytime I have had a procedure I use the patch behind my ear to help with the nausea. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. I have to fly wearing a nausea patch as well. Anyway, I had to call Chad and tell him to hang tight so I could get it together. I was able to work through it finally and off we went back to the Airbnb.

Generally speaking, doctors usually say PFOs don’t really have symptoms however, after joining multiple groups for people with PFOs, I quickly learned that we all had a number of things or issues we have dealt with and just thought it was normal. One thing for me that I never thought twice about was sleeping with my mouth just slightly open. I was never a heavy mouth breather at night but I always felt like I could not get enough air in my body when I would close my mouth all the way. When I woke up the next morning, I woke up with my mouth closed. I never considered that being a real problem, nor did I ever try and connect the two, but I was so surprised I could now fall asleep and wake with my mouth closed and not feel like I wasn’t getting enough air. The other thing I noticed were deep breaths. Post surgery it really felt like I could fill my lungs up more/all the way. Before it always felt a little short and I always wanted a little more air when breathing in.

Post surgery wasn’t too bad, better than I expected actually! We stayed another few days before we headed home. I had a lifting restriction for two weeks, was sent home on Plavix for a month and no heavy exercise for a month. I’d say after three weeks I no longer had any soreness. I ended up coming off the Plavix a little early because I was covered in bruises, so I switched back to a low dose aspirin. Now, I had to wait a year to test and see if the stitches held up and if the holes fully closed.

Though I was happy to be on the other side of the procedure, the one year wait had its mental difficulties. I thought about it every single day. If I were a part of the clinical study, I would have had testing done everything three months for a year to see if the holes were closed or closing. Outside of the study, patients are typically checked at the one-year mark. During this time though, I found a cardiologist who was intrigued by my Noblestitch journey and was delighted to see me through testing at the one-year mark. It felt nice to have a doctor who cared enough to see things through with me even though I was going against the grain. This cardiologist was one I saw once before after my stroke. My high risk obgyn sent me to him. I never thought I would see him again post pregnancy. The other cardiologist I had lined up to put the device in was one I was referred to by my outpatient neurologist. That doctor did do my TEE procedure to confirm the PFO for me and that all went well. They just did not support the idea of the stitch.

The year consisted of counting down the days and then spending months fighting with the insurance company when they decided to deny the procedure that I already had. Going back and forth with them took a lot of time and energy but thankfully, after multiple appeals, I was able to get them to cover the surgery. The experience really made me feel like they were more interested in taking the risk to see if I would have another stroke. If I did, I’m guessing they were hedging their bets on me not making it versus potentially needing years of care for the remainder of my life.

I am happy to report that at the one-year mark, testing was done and my PFO had closed. I got the best news I could possibly get and I’m still so grateful. I have never been so happy to close a chapter in my life but I would do it all again to have our twins.😊

I leave you with this photo of our breakfast table. While we were out of town, this table was being delivered. When we made it back home and got the table put together, I noticed something. Within the wood grain there was a heart and within the heart there was a circle that looked like a hole. This little gem is a daily reminder of the journey we went through. As for the age of 35, I’ve definitely had better but it wasn’t the worst. That brings me to 2024… Stay tuned.