From Here to Health

My journey back from autoimmune disease

New Blog

After taking some time off, I have begun blogging once more. I believe the new blog represents my authentic self. I hope everyone who has been blessed by this blog in the past will come visit me at my new site, Uncaged Canary.




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Daily Log

Sleep- Slept from 10:30 to 7:30 except for the few minutes when Jesus woke me up around 3:45.  And yes, you read that right.  Jesus spoke to me last night and woke me up.  I was having a dream in which I was speaking to my grandfather who is very ill.  The relationship is very strained and he does not know my kids because of it (his choice, not mine).  In the dream, I come to my grandfather (I am leaving out other details that I do think have meaning, but I’m just going to cut to the Jesus part) and he says, “So tell me about those boys.”  And I say, “They are loving, sweet, so smart and they show Jesus to people every day.”  And what really seemed like an audible voice says in my ear (loud enough to wake me up) “So do you.”  My husband works night, no one else was around.  I am convinced it was Jesus.  I am always so quick to see the good in my kids or my friends.  I always encourage others to tap into the divinity in themselves.  But often when it comes to looking at myself, I am a very harsh and judgmental critic.  I’m taking this as a sign to love myself and own my own little piece of the divine.  It will be a journey, but I am going to pray that Jesus continues to reveal himself to me.

Exercise-CrossFit at 9am.  Still can’t lift, but I did the warm-up- 300 jump ropes, 10-15-10 pull ups (blue and red band), 30 push ups (I started these and then my trainer said NO), fascia stretches for the achilles tendon. During the lift I did squats and sit ups.  The WOD had to be modified – 10 pull ups, 5 knees to elbows, 7 one leg elevated squats (each leg) 5 rounds.  My time was 8:40.  At around 5:30 I did 24 minutes of Bodyrock with Doug.  No weights, just cardio/bodyweight stuff.



Leftover Hot Plate with a scrambled egg


Chick-fil-A 6 pack grilled nuggets kids’ meal w/unsweet tea

Alright, not paleo.  But it was worth it to share lunch and shopping with these 2 sweet faces.

Cooper enjoying fried rice and honey chicken at the mall

Presley doing the exact same thing. Go figure, twins!


organic apple, sunflower seed butter, grass-fed cheese

Wasn’t super hungry and didn’t feel like cooking.

Snack- I made some Zucchini Bread from Eat Like a Dinosaur and I had a slice fresh from the oven.  Will try to post a picture tomorrow.






Health History- Continued

After my diagnosis of Sjodgren’s and vasculitis, the rheumatologist put me on Prednisone.  I knew immediately that I did not want to take it.  I had heard horror stories from friends and family about the side effects and complications with it.  However, I was scared.  The doctor was telling me I had to get my inflammation under control ASAP if I wanted to avoid the mini strokes.  I had ZERO peace about it, but I decided to take the drug.  It did not go well.  It made everything worse.  I just couldn’t tolerate it.  I couldn’t sleep.  I could barely eat.  It felt like there were bugs crawling underneath my skin.  I was incredibly anxious.  I took the Prednisone for 1 month- September 2010.  After that, against my doctor’s wishes, I quit.  I knew this was not my path.  I had been praying continuously and earnestly the entire month and I just felt God telling me that this was not His plan for me.  I knew there was a plan. “For I know the thoughts and plans that I have for you,” says the Lord, “thoughts and plans for welfare and peace and not for evil, to give you hope in your final outcome.” Jeremiah 29:11  I clung to this verse with white knuckles. I trusted that whatever God had for me, it was for my good.  Even if it was death.  That was a hard thing, but I just had to let go and know that He had me in the palm of His hand. I decided that whatever the Lord had for me, it was not the path of conventional health care, and I went in search of something else. Something that would bring me a sense of peace.  Something that would honor the way my body was designed.  Something that would help me get my body back in balance and promote the natural healing that I knew was possible.

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Health History- Post Pregnancies (mostly)

So I left off basically with the birth of my daughter.  For the most part, we were doing really well.  For the first 6 months, it really was great.  I was having some issues with nursing such as cracked nipples, bleeding, soreness, but nothing that a committed mama like myself couldn’t get through.  Fast forward to February of 2008 and I once again have a weird virus.  For about 10 days I have a fever of 103-105 and I feel near death.  Just totally wiped out.  My doctor runs all sorts of tests, but comes up with nothing.  I continue to nurse through this because I am obviously some sort of  nursing superhero.  Truly, looking back, I can’t believe I was so committed to nursing through all the issues I had.  I know now there would have been no shame in quitting and honestly it probably would have been better for me and my daughter.  And just so you know, it isn’t just nursing.  The theme of not knowing when to quit runs pretty deep in other areas of my life as well. Stubborn, determined, committed or just stupid?  I’ll let you decide.  Anyway, back to the health history.  So all we know is I had this crazy virus.  It does finally clear up and I continue on.  However, I should mention that at one point my doctor put my on antibiotics during this illness.  You will see why.

Now to a more uncomfortable topic.  Not only was I on antibiotics for the mystery virus (which of course wasn’t helpful), but I was on IV and oral antibiotics 3 times over the next 7 months.  I had 3 rounds of very serious battles with staph infections in my breasts.  I had had mastitis with my boys multiple times, but was able to work it out without antibiotics thankfully.  However, something was different with my daughter.  Here comes the uncomfortable part….I now had breast implants. I share this for several reasons. 1. It really does matter in this health history. 2. I want to feel like I am being toally open and honest 3. There may be somebody out there in the same position I was in who could benefit from my honest analysis.  Let’s start with number 1.  While my implants did not cause my infections, my doctor does believe they left this perfect little pocket where infection could just sit and hang out.  It was also apparently a little pocket where it was hard for the antibiotics to get to, thus the reason I had to get IV antibiotics in the hospital.  Did I continue to nurse?  You betcha!  Brought that baby to the hospital.  It wasn’t until round 3 when she was 13 months that I decided she had had enough of my antibiotic tainted breast milk and I quit.  We probably would have been better off if I had quit after round one, but as you will see, I like to learn my lessons the hard way.

Number 2.  I don’t know if this blog is really going anywhere, but I want anyone who reads it to know the real me.  Open and honest.  I try to be that way with people I know in “real life” and I want to be that way here.  I would hate it if this little bit of information came out some other way and it caused someone who had read other parts of my story to think maybe I glossed over other issues as well.  My promise is to lay it all out on the table…the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Number 3.  My honest analysis of the implants.  This is a really tricky subject for me.  I have so many mixed feelings around them.  Let me start by telling you how it happened.  I told you earlier that I pumped milk for my premature twins for 11 months.  Have any of you seen the electric pumps?  Seen what they do to the nipples in the pumps?  If not, seen a cow on a milking machine?  You get the idea.  After 11 months of this, my breasts were shot!  They went from a 34C to a 34A that looked like  saggy, deflated balloons.  I kid you not.  However, I might have been able to live with this if I hadn’t had body issue images since I was about 12. I won’t go into detail here (maybe another post), but I have had bouts with anorexia, bulimia, binge eating and serious issues with body image.  My breasts (and maybe my eyes) were the only parts of my body that I liked.  They were full, round, perky.  They made me feel feminine and attractive.  Now they were gone and I was left with something so sad looking in their place.  Let me say quickly that I did not regret pumping for my boys.  They did incredibly well on my breast milk.  It looked like liquid gold for the first 6 months.  We were told they would have numerous problems and they had ZERO.  So I wouldn’t change that.  However, I hated looking at my chest.  I lived with the saggy balloons for the next few years while I was trying to get pregnant again.  When it had been 3 years and I had decicded it just wasn’t going to happen, I decided to do something about it.  Let me stop right here and say that I was in no frame of mind to make a big decision like this.  I was really heartbroken over the infertility.  I gave away all my baby stuff and was trying to make myself feel like that part of my life was over and I was ok with it, but I wasn’t.  I went in to see a plastic surgeon on on a Monday and they did the implants on a Friday.  Another huge mistake!  Take some time ladies.  It’s a big decision.  There are risks.  Don’t let anyone make you feel like there is a rush.  So this was May 2006.  As we all know I got pregnant in November 2006.  Just figures, right?  My new boobs looked good for about 2 months total and then pregnancy began to shift things around again and they got huge!  I had opted to go back to a 34C.  I just wanted them to look like they looked before.  Now with my pregnancy they had jumped to 34DD.  It was uncomfortable and unattractive in my opinion. I am only 5’1″ so they looked pretty massive on my frame.  I told myself they would shrink after I quit nursing, and they did, but not as much I had hoped.  They finally settled at a 32DD.  And they don’t look like they did before nursing my daughter. They are not awful, but they are not the same.  Moral of this story, if you do want implants, wait until you are CERTAIN you are not have any more kids.

One more thing,  I think the reason this topic was uncomfortable for me to share was because I have carried around some shame and guilt over getting breast implants.  A good, Jesus loving girl like myself doesn’t get big fake boobies, right?  Surely it’s in the Bible and I just missed it.  While I do think that God wants me to treat my body as a temple, with love and respect, I don’t think he truly cares about my implants per se.  I do know if He cares about my carrying around guilt and shame.  He does not want that for me. Ever. Period. About anything.  He created me to live a victorious life.  Victorious over my infertility!  Victorious over my eating disorders! Victorious over a ill-timed, ill-fitting pair of fake boobies!  So I’m laying down the guilt and shame here and now.  Hopefully my failures can be a lesson for someone else as well as myself.  Can I get an AMEN!

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