Author: jell

A Missed Diagnosis Could Have Cost Me My Life

A Missed Diagnosis Could Have Cost Me My Life

by jell ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. 1 in 4 women experience pregnancy loss and some women experience it multiple times. It’s so common, but it seems like there is some sort of stigma surrounding pregnancy loss that prevents women from talking about their experiences. What is it that makes us keep this to ourselves? Are we embarrassed? Are we ashamed? Is it too traumatic to talk about? I don’t have the answer to why women don’t talk about their experiences with pregnancy loss more and I’m sure the answer is different for every woman. For me, the answer is that I was traumatized and I got angry every time I told my story. Pregnancy loss is a very personal and sensitive subject but it’s so important to talk about it because women need to know that they’re not alone. It’s important to tell our stories because we never know who may be able to relate and we never know who we may inspire. So, I am 1 in 4 and I’m going to tell my story!

After I had Rhyan, I had an IUD placed because I didn’t want to worry about getting pregnant again for a LONG time! I’m talking like not ever! It was the non hormonal IUD because I had migraine issues with hormonal birth control in the past. The copper IUD, Paragard, is supposed to provide pregnancy protection for up to 10 years. However, as with all birth control, an IUD isn’t 100% effective. I know several women who have gotten pregnant with an IUD in place and went on to have a healthy, normal pregnancy. On the other hand, pregnancies that occur with an IUD in place are more likely to be ectopic, which means they occur outside of the uterus. Without proper treatment, an ectopic pregnancy, especially one that occurs in the Fallopian tube, can rupture and cause life threatening bleeding.

On January 1, 2019, I started what I thought was my period. Now, my body has always been very regular, and once I got my IUD placed my periods were always the same. They usually lasted about 5 days and cramps would go away by day 2. By January 10th, I was still having some bleeding and cramping. I started to get concerned because that was definitely abnormal for me, but I also knew that birth control could make your body do some weird things so I wasn’t to the point of panic just yet. I wanted to make a doctor’s appointment to get checked out just in case. The OB/GYN that I had been seeing since before I was pregnant with Rhyan had moved away and I hadn’t established care with a new doctor yet which made getting an appointment kind of tough. Doctors at the hospital where I worked and wanted to establish care, didn’t have appointments available until March. I tried to make an appointment with a doctor I had seen once in the past but she didn’t have any appointments until February. But, the schedulers asked me if I needed to be seen that day and I said yes so they were able to fit me in with someone else in the office.

I got to the doctor’s office, registered, gave my urine sample and waited almost an hour before I saw the doctor. She came in, we reviewed my symptoms and she gave me a list of all the things that could be causing this extra long, extra crampy period. It could because of the IUD or it could be an indication of endometriosis or maybe I was starting to have thyroid issues. Then she said “Could you be pregnant?” In my head, I said “Well I provided you with a urine sample for a pregnancy test, you tell me.” Out loud, I said “Well, I have the IUD so I wouldn’t think so. But I guess anything is possible.” She said “Well let me go look at your urine because if you’re pregnant, that changes the whole conversation.” Again, I provided the urine sample. Shouldn’t the results have been checked prior to the beginning of this conversation? Whatever. She left and came back to tell me “Your pregnancy test is negative, so we don’t have to worry about that.” But obviously, something was wrong. So she ordered some lab work and sent me on my way.

The next morning, I got a notification that my lab results were available on the online patient portal. I checked the results of my blood work and something told me to open the pregnancy test results, so I did. And right there, in big bold print, was the word POSITIVE. Then, I was at the point of panic. I was trying to rationalize and I started thinking that maybe they accidentally posted someone else’s lab results to my profile. That happens, right? I hauled ass to Walmart and got a 3-pack of pregnancy tests. I got back home and took all three. One by one, they all came back. Positive. Positive. Positive. By then, I was panicking while simultaneously being filled with rage at the thought of that doctor telling me that my pregnancy test was negative so we “don’t have to worry about that.” I called the doctor’s office to explain the situation and basically let them know that I needed to be seen again that day so this could be sorted out. They asked me to go to the lab first to get an HCG level drawn before going to the office.

The doctor that I had seen the day before wasn’t in the office (how convenient), so I saw a Nurse Practitioner. She apologized for what had happened and said it was because whoever read the test didn’t read it correctly and my results were really faint. Then she said “There could be several things going on. Your HCG level is only 38, which is VERY low. So, it could be that you’re having a miscarriage and this is the very end of it and your HCG level is still dropping. Or, it could be that you’re having an ectopic pregnancy where the HCG levels wouldn’t behave as expected.” I had a full blown meltdown and tears were falling down my face because I knew that the risk of an ectopic pregnancy was higher with an IUD in place.” They took my IUD out, sent me to get an ultrasound and told me to come back the next Monday to get another HCG level drawn to see if it would increase or decrease over the weekend. After the ultrasound was done, I was told that I could go home and that someone would call me with the results.

Not even an hour later, I was picking Rhyan up from school and my phone rang. It was the Nurse Practitioner I had seen earlier calling to tell me that I needed to go back to the hospital immediately. The ultrasound showed an ectopic pregnancy on the right side and I may need emergency surgery. I left Rhyan at school and called my mom to pick her up and then I called my boyfriend to tell him to meet me at the hospital. When we got to the emergency room, they started an IV on me, drew labs and then we were just waiting for someone to come and tell us what the plan was. Eventually, an OB/GYN came in to talk to us. But she gave us a very different story than we were expecting. Apparently, my ultrasound that “showed” an ectopic pregnancy wasn’t convincing enough to the OB/GYN team, so they weren’t comfortable doing surgery or giving me the medication that they normally would to treat an ectopic. Maybe it was ectopic, maybe it was a miscarriage, or maybe I was in the very very early stages of pregnancy, they weren’t sure. So for the second time that day, I was sent home with a plan to return the next Monday to get another HCG level drawn.

I went home and spent the weekend in shambles. I had absolutely no idea what was going on. Was I pregnant? Was I having a miscarriage? Was it an ectopic pregnancy? None of these were good options. I didn’t want to have another baby which is why I got the IUD in the first place. But if I was pregnant, obviously I wanted it to be a “healthy” pregnancy. I found out I was pregnant and found out something was wrong with my “baby” all in the same day. Did this even count as a pregnancy? Did this count as a loss? Would people judge me for being said because I wasn’t “really” pregnant? There were so many thoughts running through my head. And I couldn’t fully process it because I didn’t even know what *it* was.

I went back that Monday to get another HCG level drawn and that one was pretty inconclusive as well. The level didn’t rise the way it should in a “normal” pregnancy. All that told us was that *something* was wrong but we still didn’t know what that something was. I was told that I should make a follow up appointment with the doctor on Wednesday to discuss options and get another level drawn. But I had already made up my mind that there was no way in hell I was going back to the doctor who told me I wasn’t pregnant. Because I had a positive pregnancy test, I was now considered a new obstetrical patient which made it a LOT easier to get an appointment. I was able to get an appointment with a different doctor at a different hospital two days later.

At that appointment, my pregnancy test was actually negative (I requested to see the results myself). By then, I had stopped bleeding and cramping so the doctor determined that it was likely a miscarriage and that it was finally over. I was to get blood work done every couple of days until my HCG level was low enough that I could be started on birth control again. After getting labs drawn several times, my HCG level WOULD. NOT. DROP. My doctor decided to do another ultrasound but wasn’t able to find anything. He told me that he was concerned because my HCG level wasn’t dropping the way it should and nothing was visible on ultrasound but there was clearly something wrong. He recommended that I have exploratory surgery THE NEXT MORNING! Talk about a whirlwind.

So finally, on February 7, after over a month of confusion, the mystery was solved. It was an ectopic pregnancy after all. It was in the left Fallopian tube, not the right like I was originally told. Thinking back on it now, I remember being woken up out of my sleep one night with such an intense pain on the left side of my abdomen. It didn’t last very long so I didn’t think much of it, especially because in the beginning I was told that the issue was on the right side. But that intense pain that I was felt in the middle of the night was because my Fallopian tube had opened a little and blood was leaking into my abdomen. My Fallopian tube was damaged and had to be tied off. It was a very quick surgery, I recovered and went home the same day. That was it. I had my answer. But I still didn’t know how to feel. I still didn’t know how to process it. I felt like everything happened so quickly and so slowly all at the same time. But it was finally over and I was left with “where do I go from here?”

I felt like I didn’t get the opportunity to grieve the way I really needed to. Life went on as normal. I still had to be a mom and take care of my child. I was hiding my emotions from her because I didn’t want her to see how upset I was. I still had to go to work and handle business there. From the outside looking in, you never would have known what I had been dealing with for the past month. But that’s usually how it is for women. We don’t get the time to stop and process and grieve. The world is still moving around us. There is still work to be done, people to be taken care of, groceries to be made, meals to be cooked, and all the other things we do as women and mothers. We don’t get a break.

But we deserve the space to be able to process our emotions. We deserve the opportunity to cry and scream and punch a pillow if we need to. We deserve the space to tell our stories because we deserve to heal. And we can’t heal if we keep all of our pain bottled up inside. Even though we handled and processed this situation in completely different ways, I’m so thankful that my boyfriend gave me the space to cry and sulk when I needed to. Eventually, I was able to move on. I got to the point where I wasn’t sad every time I thought about it. I still get chills when I think about the fact that I literally felt my tube open up. I still think about how much worse it could have been and how blessed I am that it didn’t rupture completely because it’s very likely that I wouldn’t have made it to the hospital in time with my daughter in the middle of the night. But I am *still* not to the point where I don’t get just a little angry when I think about how everything transpired in the beginning.

I’m here to tell you that it’s okay to feel whatever emotion you feel when this happens. You get to be angry, sad, depressed, confused, hurt and lost. But you should NOT feel ashamed, embarrassed or guilty. The bottom line is pregnancy loss is not something to be ashamed of, it’s not something to be embarrassed about, it’s not something to blame yourself for. We should feel empowered to talk about it. Look how common it is. 1 in 4 women experience this. 1 in 4. You never know who you may help or inspire by sharing your journey!

Blessings.

Our Children Deserve to Be Heard

Our Children Deserve to Be Heard

by jell ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

A few years ago, I decided to surprise Rhyan with a new bedroom for Christmas. Our guest room was a little bigger than the room she was in and it was right across the hall from my room. I got my uncle to paint it pink and purple, Rhyan’s two favorite colors. I moved her bed and dresser. I set up her bookshelves and added her snow globe collection to them. It looked like such a big girl room compared to the pink and brown polka dot room she had been in since she was a baby. On Christmas morning, after she opened all of her gifts from Santa, I told her that mommy had a surprise for her. She held her eyes closed as she walked down the hall to her “new room”. When she saw it, she was so excited. She loved the colors and her bookshelves and her snow globe collection. She loved it!

Looking back now, I realize that that was the beginning of our bedtime problems. Sleeping in her new room started off pretty good. We had a little bedtime routine and everything went pretty smoothly. Eventually though, Rhyan found her way into my bed. At first, it was just one night a week and it seemed like we just worked our way up slowly until we got to the point where she was sleeping in my bed every night when I wasn’t at work. Over the summer, she did better with sleeping in her own bed because she was able to watch TV until her sleep timer went off. But as that summer went on, she eventually found her way back into my bed again. Kindergarten was approaching and mama was getting grumpy. On one hand, I loved the fact that she wanted to sleep in my bed. I loved the fact that she wanted to be close to me. I told myself “enjoy this time while it lasts because eventually, she won’t want anything to do with you.” But I couldn’t help but to also acknowledge the part of me that didn’t really like sleeping with her. As most children do, Rhyan sleeps WILD! I would spend the whole night getting kicked in the back and elbowed in the head. I was never able to get a good night’s sleep and it was starting to wear on me. So, as the school year got closer, I told her that she wouldn’t be able to start kindergarten if she was still sleeping in my bed. That worked, kind of. Slowly but surely, she moved back into her bed. She was still watching TV in bed and I had the sleep timer set. But every night after the timer went off, she would start crying. I had to lay with her until she fell asleep. But hey, at least she was sleeping in her bed! To me, that was progress. Then, quarantine started. As soon as school ended abruptly, I started to see the little progress that we had made slowly slip away. Eventually, I was either rocking her to sleep in her own bed or I was getting kicked in the back all night again because she was back in my bed.

One night about a month ago, we had a breakthrough. In the middle of a bedtime meltdown, she had the option of sleeping in our guest room, which was her “old room”. And it was in the guest bed that we had an enlightening conversation.

  • Me: Do you want to sleep in the guest room for tonight?
  • Rhyan: Yes. I love that room It has all the stuff in there from when I was a baby and it reminds me of when I was a baby. I miss all that stuff.
  • Me: You miss that room? Is that why you don’t like sleeping in the other room? Because you miss this room?
  • R: Yes! I want to sleep in this room because I love this room.
  • Me: So if we make this your room again, you would be able to sleep by yourself?
  • R: Yes. Definitely!!

So that night, she slept in the guest room and she fell asleep without a single tear drop falling. The next morning when she woke up, she said she slept GREAT! Later that afternoon, she asked if she could sleep in the guest room again. I said yes and once again, she fell asleep without any tears. After the second day in a row, I was convinced that I had solved our entire bedtime issue! No tears two nights in a row may not seem like a big deal to some. But when there are tears literally every night, two nights of peacefully falling asleep is a huge deal. We had another conversation and she said she would love to move back into her old room because she loved sleeping in there. I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself and start moving furniture until I knew for sure. So, I started small. I moved her comforter and a couple of her stuffed animals and decided to give it a trial run for a week before I moved everything. When it was bedtime, we started our new bedtime routine and then she was off to sleep with dry eyes every single night! A week was enough to convince me that she definitely wanted to stay in her “old room”. She decided that she liked the furniture that was in there, so I didn’t even have to move anything around. I’m happy to say that she’s been sleeping in the bed by herself and falling asleep on her own with dry eyes every night since!

Once I started thinking about it, I realized that I never asked her if she wanted to switch rooms. I just packed up all her stuff and made the decision for her. In my 6 1/2 years of doing this parenting thing, I’ve realized how important it is to listen to your kids and validate their opinions. When I was coming up (I know I sound really old right now), and in the many many generations that came before me, children weren’t really allowed to have an opinion on what they wanted. You did what your parents said because they were the parent and you were the child. Giving your kid options was a slim chance. But as I think about this situation, I realize how important it is to allow your children to have *some* input on decisions that will impact them, no matter how small the impact may be. Give them options when possible. They have opinions that deserve to be heard. Switching rooms seems like no big deal, but clearly it was for her and she just never knew how to express that to me in words. Instead, she expressed it every night by having a meltdown at bedtime because she didn’t want to sleep in that new room.

As a parent, I pride myself on the fact that I acknowledge and validate Rhyan’s feelings, especially when she’s angry or sad about something. Bedtime is certainly not the only time we’ve had issues. My girl can throw a fit unlike anyone I’ve ever seen before (except me when I was a child). Over the past several years, there has been a big emphasis on the social/emotional needs of children. With that, we’ve learned that a lot of times, meltdowns happen because they’re feeling an emotion that they don’t know how to express with words, not because they’re “bad”. It’s our job as parents to validate all of those emotions while helping our kids navigate them and learn how to express them in an appropriate way. I am no where near perfect at this. It can be absolutely frustrating when she’s acting a fool for no reason and there have been plenty of times when I’ve lost my cool in the process. But over time, I’ve learned that it’s impossible to reason with her when she’s in the middle of a meltdown. I do my best to remember that and I send her to her room for quiet time and tell her that she can come out when she’s feeling better. She always re-emerges bright eyed and bushy tailed like nothing ever happened. I take that opportunity to talk to her about the way she was behaving and I tell her that even though it’s okay to be angry or sad or whatever emotion she’s feeling, it’s not okay to behave inappropriately nor is it okay to lash out at others because of how we’re feeling.

Too many times, I hear the phrase “big girls don’t cry” and I literally HATE that shit! It’s one of the biggest lies ever told. Big girls do cry. Hell, I cry all the time and I know I’m not the only one! I also hate when people say “boys don’t cry.” Why are we okay with teaching our kids that they need to suppress their emotions? I know I’m not! Cry if you need to. Get that shit out. We all need a good cry sometimes. Why do we fuss at our kids for being sad, angry, frustrated? Why do we expect them to be emotionless robots meanwhile we allow ourselves to feel all the feels? Why are grown ups allowed to have an attitude because they’re having a bad day, but kids get reprimanded for daring to have that same attitude? They aren’t allowed to have a bad day. Why are we allowed to talk to our kids any kind of way but they better not talk to us that same way? “It’s about respect and kids need to respect adults.” Well, that’s true. But what’s more true is that respect is earned and we all need to respect each other. Children are people with feelings and they deserve respect as well. And they deserve the same grace we give ourselves when we’re an emotional wreck.

Again, I’m far from perfect. I’ve yelled, I’ve screamed, I’ve lost my temper, I’ve cried, I’ve spanked when I felt like nothing else was working. But I always apologize. I acknowledge when I fail, I apologize when I hurt her feelings and I always vow to do better. The way we speak to our children will eventually become their inner voice. So I always think about what I want her to hear. How do I want her to talk to herself? I want Rhyan to speak to herself with love and respect, so that is how I choose to speak to her.

Your Black Friends Are NOT Ok!

Your Black Friends Are NOT Ok!

by jell ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Once again, I spent the day and night being sad yet unsurprised, angry about yet immune to the injustices that continue to plague black people in this country. Hearing the news that Breonna Taylor’s killers won’t have any charges brought against them set my soul on fire, and not in a good way. As usual, the victim of murder at the hands of the people who are supposed to protect and serve gets no justice from the system that is supposed to bring justice “for all”. It’s always the same story, which is why we’re no longer surprised. But it’s ALWAYS the same story, which is why we’re still so outraged!

If you have Black friends, trust me when I tell you that they are NOT ok right now! And if they say they’re ok when you ask them, trust me when I tell you they’re lying. And they’re probably lying because they don’t want to have to take the time, through their grief, to sit there and explain to someone why they’re not ok. They’re probably laughing and joking and posting funny memes on Facebook because it gives them just the tiniest moment to take a break from thinking about being Black in America. If you haven’t asked your Black friends if they’re ok yet, please don’t. I’m telling you the answer so you don’t even have to ask. Because at this point, we don’t need people to “check on” us anymore. We need people to be outraged with us. We need people to demand justice with us. We need people to FIGHT with us.

We need a consistent fight that doesn’t die down. We need to stop going through the same cycle — unarmed Black person gets murdered, America erupts in protests and riots that eventually die down, America’s “justice system” fails the victim, America erupts in protests and riots that eventually die down, unarmed Black person gets murdered, rinse and repeat. We can’t let the fight die down, we can’t let it smolder. We need to follow Portland’s example. Prior to the wildfires, Portland had been protesting for more than 100 days. They didn’t let up. And after a short hiatus, they started protesting again. They refuse to let that energy die. That example needs to be followed everywhere. We cannot let up! The fight has to continue! The Montgomery Bus Boycott lasted 381 days. Change doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and we have to stay strong until the end. We have to make our voices heard. We have to keep demanding justice until we get the justice we deserve!

Everybody’s fight in this war isn’t going to look the same. The battle isn’t just on the frontlines with protesting. Fighting is also behind the scenes. Fighting is also donating to organizations that are committed to this war. Fighting is also voting out the people in office who are still ok with what we see going on, which includes voting in local elections. Fighting is also calling your elected officials to demand justice for the victims that we will unfortunately continue to see. Fighting is also teaching your children about America’s REAL history so they can grow up and make sure that history doesn’t repeat itself. Fighting is also speaking up when your family, friends and coworkers feel comfortable enough to say something racist.

Fighting is also standing up to ignorance on social media. And miss me with the “I don’t like to talk about politics” shit. Because let’s keep it all the way real, the injustices against Black people in this country are more than just a political issue. They are a human rights issue, a human decency issue. A woman was murdered in her sleep, by POLICE who wrongfully invaded her home, and not one of her murderers will be charged for killing her. She was murdered in her sleep and one officer was charged for endangered her neighbors while firing his gun but wasn’t charged for ACTUALLY killing her! That is MORE than political. If you can’t speak up and speak out in objection of that, then I already know where you stand. If you can’t say Black Lives Matter, then I already know how you feel. Not wanting to talk about it tells me that you’re either on the wrong side of this movement or that you’re afraid of how people will look at you if they realize that you’re on the *right* side of this movement. Either way, I’m not here for it or for you.

Black people are tired. We are exhausted. We are constantly reminded that our lives don’t matter in this country. We are constantly reminded that no one is safe. Our parents are not safe. Our spouses are not safe. Our family members and friends are not safe. Our kids are not safe. Black men, women and children are not safe in this country. We are not safe! Do you know how exhausting it is to know that, to have to worry about that on top of all the other “regular” shit you already have to worry about?

Trust me when I tell you, your black friends are not ok! We are tired, but we are still fighting because don’t get to let up!

Know Your Worth!

Know Your Worth!

by jell ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I saw a meme on Facebook the other day that said “Job Application – Reason For Leaving: They had me fucked up!” and whew chile! I was triggered!!!

Trying to give myself and my family a sense of normalcy was big part of why I decided to leave bedside nursing and go to a “regular” Monday-Friday job. My daughter was absolutely sick of me leaving her at night to go to work. I felt bad for continuing to depend on my parents for childcare 3 nights a week when I had her. My boyfriend had gotten on a normal schedule and I wanted more normal time with him. I thought about going to day shift, but in addition to nights, I wanted weekends and holidays with my family too. I had been thinking about getting a Monday-Friday job for a WHILE, but I loved the babies and the NICU too much to completely give it up just yet. So in 2018, I applied for and became the Clinical Supervisor of my unit. I was still working 3 nights a week, but I no longer had to work weekends and holidays. That helped for a little while. I got more time on the weekends with my family and was able to be home for all the holidays.

Last year, Rhyan was starting kindergarten and I started to really think about a job change to something Monday-Friday. It was perfect timing because my mom was ready to start thinking about her retirement plan. She was the main person who watched my daughter when I worked because she lived so close to me, and I didn’t want her to spend her retirement babysitting for me while I worked. So last August, I sat down with my boss, our unit manager, and told her that I was going to have to start looking for a job with daytime hours because eventually my mom would no longer be able to help me with childcare. She gave me the whole “we don’t want to lose you” bit and then told me that if I could hold out until spring, she would likely be leaving and that I would be a great fit for her position. So I gave it some thought and decided to hold off on my job search and hold out a little longer.

Imagine my surprise when barely a month later, that same manager came in early one morning and wanted to talk to me in her office. She told me that she would actually be leaving the next month and the unit would have an interim manager until they interviewed and hired someone for the permanent position. So stupid me is sitting there thinking she’s telling me all of this to offer me the interim manager position. Tuh! She was actually there to tell me that they had already decided who the interim manager would be. It would be the Clinical Supervisor of the Well Baby Nursery/Transition Nursery. Yes, you heard me. Someone with no NICU experience was going to be the interim manager of the NICU. Now listen, don’t get me wrong here, I don’t want to sound like I thought I was entitled to the job. And though interim managers usually go on to become permanent managers, I would have fully expected to have had to go through an entire interview process before it became a permanent position. But let’s just recap here. Candidate A: 8 years of NICU experience, a little over a year of leadership experience as a supervisor. Candidate B: 0 years of NICU experience, same amount (a little over a year) of leadership experience as a supervisor. I’m not going to state the most *obvious* difference between the two of us and why *I* think she was offered that job instead of me. But needless to say, I was completely baffled by what this lady was telling me. After I had JUST had a conversation with her about looking for a Monday-Friday job, after she had JUST sat in my face and told me I would be a good fit for her position when she decided to leave. Then she had the audacity, the unmitigated gall, to say “Tell me your thoughts.”

In that moment, I knew she truly had me f**ked up. Knowing the conversation we literally just had a month ago, are you really asking me this? What are you expecting my answer to be?! I quickly gathered myself and my face and just kept my mouth shut because I knew that if I said what I was actually thinking, I would likely not have a job by the end of the conversation. So I simply said “good for her.” And right then and there, before I even walked out of that office, I decided that it was time for me to move on. Like, if I didn’t have bills to pay and a child to take care of, I probably would have put my two weeks notice in without even having another job lined up. I mentally checked out and my job search started immediately.

In the end, it all worked out. I found the most amazing job that I never even knew I wanted. I’m making boss moves and flourishing at work without actually having to be anybody’s boss. I work for a great hospital and I have a great director who encourages me to elevate myself daily. I have the schedule I was looking for AND I have the time with my family that I was craving.

I learned some things through that process:

  • Don’t stay where you’re not wanted. Know when it’s time to let go and move forward in your life. Everything is for a reason, a season or a lifetime. Know when your season has passed & be thankful for the experiences you had in that time.
  • If you want to do something, do it! Don’t wait. Don’t push it off. Don’t make excuses. Don’t listen to other people when they tell you that they *might* have an opportunity for you. Don’t wait to get all your ducks in a row. (Trust me, all those ducks will never be in a row!) Just do it!
  • Nobody is looking out for you the way you look out for yourself. In the working world, everybody is looking out for themselves. People may seem like they have good intentions or seem like they have your back. But at the end of the day, they’re always going to do what’s best for them, no matter where that leaves you.
  • Don’t be afraid to take chances. Part of the reason I held on to bedside nursing for so long was because that’s all I knew. I started working in the NICU straight out of nursing school. And though I had worked at a couple of different hospitals, I was still a NICU nurse no matter where I went. I would always think “I don’t know how to do anything else” or “What type of job am I going to get with nothing but NICU experience?” The fear of rejection and/or failure kept me at the bedside longer than I wanted to be there. But I learned to step out of my comfort zone and take chances on myself.
  • What’s for you is for you, and what’s not for you just isn’t. I realized that I didn’t actually like being a supervisor anyway, at least not in that department. I learned a lot about myself and about other people during that time. I lost a friend that I had known for 5+ years. I learned that there are certain people who always have to find something to complain about. I learned that I didn’t like being the one that people came to about EVERYTHING. I learned that I would rather be responsible for myself and my own work than be responsible for making sure other grown ass adults are doing what they’re supposed to do. I learned that I would rather go to work, do a great job, go home and be able to leave work at work.

At the end of the day, through it all, the biggest lesson in all of this was to KNOW YOUR WORTH! Know your worth and make sure everybody else knows it too! Don’t allow yourself to be treated unfairly. Demand what you know you deserve, not just at work but in all situations in your life.

Celebrate Your Village

Celebrate Your Village

by jell ♥ 4 Comments

So apparently, Grandparents’ Day was this past weekend and I missed it. But, I’m a firm believer that any time is a good time to celebrate your people! I never really thought much about the phrase “It takes a village to raise a child” until I became a parent myself. I know people who are out here raising their kids alone with no “village” to help them for various reasons and I truly don’t know how they do it. I feel so fortunate to have grown up with my grandparents (and a great-grandma) and that my daughter has all of her grandparents and had the privilege of getting some time with TWO great-grandmas!

I have such fond memories of my childhood with my grandparents. My dad’s parents would pick me up from school sometimes and I would stay there until my parents got off work. My Granny would fix my favorite meal, Kraft Macaroni & Cheese with fried hot dog weiners (yes, it was amazing; no, I don’t need your judgement). She would follow it up with some butter cookies, the kind with the hole in the middle that I could put on my finger like a ring. One cookie for each year of my age dipped in a nice cup of cold milk until it was just a little soggy was all my little heart desired! I would sit on my grandfather’s lap and read with him. We would sit in his leather recliner that had a faded mark at the top where he would rest his head all the time. Time with my maternal grandparents was just as amazing. My grandma made the best banana pancakes for breakfast and the best tuna sandwiches for lunch! There was never a shortage of company because I always had a group of cousins over there to play with. We would play school, Jerry Springer and Ricky Lake (again, I don’t need your judgement). We would play card games and gamble for candy because my grandma would NEVER let us play for actual money. When it was raining outside, we weren’t allowed to do anything but sit in the dark and be quiet. No TV, no phone, no lights. Sound familiar? (I swear we all lived the same childhood.) We played tricks on my grandpa and turned off his TV through the crack in the door with the universal remote. My great-grandma was the “candy lady” in her neighborhood. I used to love answering the doorbell and helping her sell everything. She kept her money in an empty baby wipe container! My memories with my grandparents are endlessly wonderful. As of last year, all of my biological grandparents are no longer on this earth, but the memories I have of them will last me a lifetime.

I love that Rhyan is getting that same experience. My parents are literally the best and biggest support I could ever ask for. When Rhyan’s dad and I divorced, I was still working overnight as a NICU nurse. Working 7pm-7am three nights a week with a little one at home every other week would have never worked if it weren’t for my parents. They would pick her up from school, do the whole night time routine and bring her to school the next morning so that I could continue working and doing what I loved and was passionate about. They were my lifeline for three full years before I got my “normal” job and I could never thank them enough. That time alone gave Rhyan so much time with her grandparents. COVID has mostly kept us away from my parents because of health conditions, but it has honestly brought us closer. We see my mom for a few minutes several times a week. She cooks Rhyan’s favorite meals and brings them over, mask and all, to take some of that stress off of me. She goes to the park with us and walks with Rhyan or lets her swing while I do my exercise in peace. She’s sat at my house with her mask on while I got out of the house for a little while when life got to be too much and I needed a break. Rhyan and my dad FaceTime several times a day. He has spent countless hours with her doing school work, having virtual tea parties and playing whatever other games she decides to make up. They even figured out a way to play UNO over FaceTime and Rhyan has become the family UNO champion! My dad and my MiMi have virtually babysat her and kept her entertained just so I could take a nap. She loves putting on fashion shows and MiMi is the best hype (wo)man a girl could ask for. In a time that has been so challenging in so many ways, we have found ways to make the best of it. Rhyan is making so many memories that will stay with her forever.

The village doesn’t end with grandparents, and not everyone has grandparents in their lives. That’s ok too. Your village can be comprised of so many different types of people: aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, friends, coworkers. Some people live away from their family and have a group of friends as their major support system. Some people live in close knit communities and have neighbors who look out for them and their kids. Some people are so close to their coworkers that they become like family.

With all that said, let’s be real here. A village isn’t just full of people who help you take care of your kids. A village also helps you take care of YOU! Because who the hell are we kidding? We definitely need our own personal adult village too, our core group of people who love us and support us endlessly. I have multiple “groups” of friends that serve different purposes in my life and make up my village. I have my “nurse friends” who understand the woes of working in the medical field and the wonderfully horrible memories of nursing school. I have my “healthy lifestyle friends” who I talk to about eating healthy and working out and who help me get my shit together when I fall off the wagon. I have my “couple friends” who are my go-to people when I need relationship advice. I have my cousins who I talk to about every random thing you could ever think of. I have my friends who are also parents for when I need to vent about whatever drama I’m going through with my kid. I have friends that I don’t see or talk to often but that I can pick back up with like we just saw each other yesterday. I have my friends who have known me since high school and have been there through the good, bad and ugly. And so many of my friends fit into many of those “categories”, if that’s what you want to call them. I literally have the best group of friends a girl could ever ask for. We may not see each other as often as we would like because we all have our separate lives between marriages, jobs, kids, living across the country and a million other responsibilities. But when shit hits the fan, I know exactly who to call. When I have great news that I want to share, I know who’s going to celebrate me. And they know they can find that same love and support in me.

Think about all the things you’ve been through, good and bad. Think about the people who have shown up for you, however they could, when you needed them to. THAT is your village. This life can be fucking hard, and the more people we have to lean on in times of need, the better. Whatever your village looks like, love them, appreciate them and thank them. And life is short, so love and celebrate your people often! So shoutout to my people! Thank you for loving me and my kiddo to the moon and back!

#ConversationsWithRhyan

#ConversationsWithRhyan

by jell ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Y’all know one of my favorite things to share is conversations with my girl! At only 6 years old, Rhyan can hold a conversation with the best of them and she gives so many quotables! Six years in and I still find myself saying “Girl, where did you come from?!” And the answer is always the same. She came right from her mama and she got it honest! She is FULL of sass! Our conversations are equally hilarious, enlightening, random, heartwarming and downright dramatic sometimes.

When Rhyan gets sleepy, her emotions are all over the place. One minute, she’s sad. The next minute, she’s grumpy and there’s a possibility that I’m “the worst mommy EVER!” The next minute, I get “I just love you so much mommy and I never want to let you go.” It’s an emotional rollercoaster to say the least, but I’m always along for the ride. Tonight was no exception…

  • Rhyan: I want my OWN house!
  • Me: Well, do you know how you get to have a house?
  • Rhyan: Be a grown up?
  • Me: Yes. Be a grown up. But also have money. You know how you get money to buy a house?
  • Rhyan: By having a job.
  • Me: Not just any job, a GOOD job. That means you have to finish school so you can get a good job and make a lot of money so you can buy a house.
  • Rhyan: But I already have money in my piggy bank!
  • Me: You do. But that’s not enough to buy a house, beautiful.
  • Rhyan: *starts crying* But why??? I want to have enough money to buy a house! I have a lot of money. Why isn’t it enough?
  • Me: It takes a lot more than piggy bank money to buy a house!
  • Rhyan: *hysterically crying* But I want to have enough money!
  • Me: Hey, why are you crying? Because guess what! Even if you DID have enough money in your piggy bank, you’re not even old enough to buy a house yet. So if you keep saving, by the time you are old enough, you’ll have enough money to buy your own house. Besides, if you buy your own house, you’ll have to live there without mommy. You’re ready to leave me already?
  • Rhyan: Nooooooooo!!!! I don’t want a house! I never want to leave you!
  • Me: Well you’re going to have to leave me eventually. You can’t stay with mommy forever!
  • Rhyan: *crying again* Yes I CAN! I don’t want a house. I’m never leaving mommy!
  • Me: Rhyan, are you sleepy?
  • Rhyan: *sobs hysterically* YES!!! I want to go to sleep!

Whew chile! The drama! It’s so hard not to laugh sometimes, especially when she’s being emotional. But it’s also so hilarious at the same time! I appreciate these little moments now because I know in just a few short years, she’ll be counting down the days until she can leave mama’s house! I’m going to keep track of all the times she says she’ll never leave me to show her when grows up and she’s ready to leave the nest. Until then, stay as long as you want, sweet girl!

Back to School…Blues?

Back to School…Blues?

by jell ♥ 6 Comments

My 1st grader is set to go back to school in person on Monday, and I’m still having some mixed feelings about it. I swear this has been the most popular (and stressful) topic to discuss among parents all summer long. Are you sending your kids back to school in person or are you keeping them home to do virtual learning?

Our schools shut down in March and we started “homeschooling”. I honestly didn’t think homeschooling a kindergartener would be hard. I mean, it’s kindergarten, right? Wrong!! It started off great. We thought schools would only be closed for about a month, so I tried to keep her on her normal school schedule, including waking up at the same time, because she’s a kid that thrives off of consistency. That worked for about a week. The teachers were posting assignments that they could do on their own time, so I decided that I would just let her sleep in and she could do her school work when she woke up. That was a little better for *me*. I was able to get a lot of my own work done while she was still sleeping. But, trying to get her to focus on doing the assignments was a struggle. All while I was *still* trying to keep up with my own work because I still had a job to do. Trying to find the balance between working from home and keeping up with virtual kindergarten was so damn hard. There were tantrums and tears (from both of us) and I just couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. We were both miserable until the end of the school/work day that I finally got to the point where I said “You know what? I’m not about to let this stress me out this bad! You want to do your work? Great. You don’t want to do your work? Cool, just go do something quietly so I can do MY work!” School never did resume in person, so that’s pretty much how the rest of the school year went. Some days, she did school work, some days she watched TV all day while I worked. I thank God every single day for the gift of my family keeping her entertained through FaceTime while I was in the middle of Zoom meetings and answering emails. From doing school work with my sister to having tea parties and playing UNO with my dad, FaceTime was my saving grace!

After THAT experience, I just KNEW I was sending my kid back to school as soon as we safely could, because that homeschooling shit wasn’t going to work out for us long term. Then, we both tested positive for COVID and I started to have anxiety about sending her back to school. I didn’t know if I caught the virus from work and gave it to her or if she caught it from someone at summer camp and gave it to me. She was asymptomatic the entire time, so I started to get concerned about her going to school, catching the virus and being asymptomatic again, and then giving it to me or someone else. Eventually, there was talk about schools opening in person in the fall, but parents would also have the option to “opt out” and keep their kids at home to continue to with virtual learning. I started having an internal battle with myself about whether I should send her to school in person this fall or keep her at home.

In the end, after reading through all of the safety precautions that her school would be putting in place, I decided that the best decision for us was for her to go back to school. She is such a social kid and being away from her friends and staying at home all summer was enough to drive her crazy. Quarantine was obviously affecting her mood. She would have moments when she would cry because she missed her friends and her teachers. She is definitely not a kid made for sitting inside with no one other than a grown up to talk to. She does better with the structure of a classroom than she does with trying to do work at home. She does better talking to her friends and teachers in person than she does talking to them through video chat. She needs in person interaction, no matter how socially distant it may be. On top of all of that, I still have to work. Her dad still has to work. Working from home is still working. She deserves to be in an environment created for learning with a teacher who has been trained to do just that, teach. That environment is not at home, and that teacher is not her parents.

There are so many people passing judgement against parents who are choosing to send their kids back to school in person. “Why would you risk your child’s health?” “I would never send my kid back to school right now.” So many negative statements! What people fail to realize is that what works for one child/family may not work for others. There is no one-size-fits-all solution in this case. There are kids, like mine, who don’t do well with virtual learning. There are parents who have to work and can’t stay home with their kids to do virtual learning. Unfortunately, there are many families who need their kids to go to school so that they can go to work to provide for their family. There are SO many reasons why virtual learning may not work for a family. Making the decision to send your kid(s) back to school is hard enough without all the negativity from people whose opinions on the situation don’t even matter. You “would never” send your kid to school in a time like this? Great, then don’t. That’s one less kid in my child’s in person class. In my opinion, kids need to be IN school. They need interaction with their peers. They need to spend time with people their age. They need to be in an environment that is conducive to learning. But I’m not walking around judging those who are choosing to keep their kids at home for the time being. Do whatever it is that works for your family. How hard is it to understand that even if you don’t agree with someone’s decision, you literally don’t have to say anything about it. Am I worried about COVID? Absolutely. But I am also worried about my child’s education and her psychological well-being. So, I’m going to trust in the safety precautions that have been mandated and my kid is going to school. If you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say anything at all.

Birthday Behavior.

Birthday Behavior.

by jell ♥ 16 Comments

2020 has been the shortest and longest year ever at the same damn time! How is time flying by and standing still all at once? How is it *already* September, but it feels like we are perpetually stuck in March? When I realized how quickly my birthday was approaching, all I could think was “What did I even do this year?” I would joke that I’m not adding a year to my age because this year has been a waste. COVID-19 has changed so much of my life since it reared its ugly head in March that I forgot about the first six post-birthday months I had before this #QuarantineLife started. I was so busy sulking over the fact that I haven’t been able to live my life the way I’m used to living it that I wasn’t taking the time to think about all of the things that I have gotten to do since my last birthday! I got to experience a whole six months before we got pushed into quarantine, and even though life has looked a lot different since then, I’ve still been living!

As a society, we tend to feel like if we’re not *doing* something, *going* somewhere, or whatever other verbs you want to insert, then our time is being wasted. Ya know what I mean? And when I say “as a society”, I’m including myself in that number because clearly I’m just as guilty. I’ve been trying to focus more on finding the positives in this crazy, constantly negative world that we live in. So, instead of being fixated on all the things I didn’t get to do this year, I started thinking about all of the wonderful things that have happpened since my last birthday and all the good that quarantine has brought into my life.

  • I started a new job. After almost 8 years as a NICU nurse, most of them spent on night shift, I finally decided that I needed a little normalcy in my life. So, I put my big girl panties on and I started applying for Monday-Friday jobs. I got a job in performance (quality) improvement and I’m actually pretty damn good at it, if I do say so myself. I’ve completed a few projects, been given more responsibilities and I’ve gotten lots of kudos for my work ethic. After all those years of working 3 days a week, making my own schedule, I was scared shitless to transition to what I like to call “normal life”. But it was literally one of the best decisions I’ve made, for so many different reasons. But that’s another story for another day.
  • I made a decision to invest in myself and my mental health. I’ve struggled with anxiety for a while but I always thought I was doing an okay job of handling it by myself. Spoiler alert: I wasn’t! Quarantining at home with a 6 year old trying to conquer kindergarten via “home schooling” while simultaneously working from home AND trying to maintain my sanity…WHEW CHILE!!! Bless it! I was finally able to admit that I needed a little help. I started taking medication for my anxiety and started seeing a therapist. Let me tell you!! I’m a better mother, daughter, girlfriend, friend, employee, all that shit! The only regret I have is not investing in my health sooner!
  • I used my voice to make a difference. During the time of #GeorgeFloyd, #AhmaudArbery and #BreonnaTaylor, when our country was in shambles over the continued murders of unarmed Black people, the CEO of my hospital hosted listening sessions. I didn’t know what these listening sessions were going to look like, but I signed up for the first one! And there, in front of our CEO, HR Business Partner and Diversity & Inclusion Manager, I spoke my mind. I said everything I had to say with no concern about what might happen next. It turns out this wasn’t just a venting session, they really were interested in what we had to say. From those listening sessions, they decided to create a Diversity & Inclusion Council and ya girl was exclusively invited by the CEO to sit on the council! Change doesn’t come from one conversation so I’m grateful for the opportunity to provide ongoing input to make a difference at my workplace and, hopefully, in my community.
  • I learned to slow down. Maybe it was the fact that quarantine had us stuck inside. Maybe it was the anxiety meds. Maybe it was some combination of both. Whatever it was, I learned to slow down and appreciate all the moments, big and small. A “normal” day was waking up at the crack of dawn, rushing to get my daughter to school then get myself to work and then having to rush from work to pick her up, get home to do homework, cook/eat dinner, take baths and get her in bed by a decent time all to wake up and do it again the next day. Once they shut schools down, our whole life changed pace. Of course, there was the added chaos of keeping her educated and entertained in between work emails, projects and Zoom meetings. But, there were also dance parties, cooking lessons, UNO games, walks around the neighborhood and extra (sometimes too many extra) snuggles.
  • I re-dedicated myself to my fitness journey. I’ve lost 22 pounds (and counting) since June! We won’t talk about how much of that weight was gained during quarantine (*cough* all of it *cough*) because that’s neither here nor there. What we will talk about is the fact that I woke up one day and looked at myself in the mirror and said “abso-fuckin’-lutely not!!” And that was that. I changed my eating habits. I gave up beef and pork. I replaced my Apple Watch. I stopped making excuses and started working out at home. And here I am, three months later, still gettin’ it! I’m trying to be #SummerTimeFine for whenever we can go outside again!
  • I survived COVID. I was as careful as I could be. Other than work, I can probably count on one hand how many places I had been since quarantine started. I wore my mask. I washed my hands. But in late June, what I thought was my allergies causing that little tickle in my throat and making me cough a little turned out to be Corona herself! Thank goodness my symptoms were mild. A little cough, loss of smell and two weeks of absolute exhaustion! Let me tell y’all. That COVID exhaustion is unlike any exhaustion I’ve ever experienced. But I made it through and I’m alive to tell the tale. And for that, I’m grateful because I know it could have been so much worse.
  • I learned what’s important. I see people out here living life like COVID has come and gone. And I just don’t get it. I understand not wanting to “live in fear” or whatever. But using that excuse to justify the dinner parties and the brunches and the need to be all in each other’s faces with no masks for a group selfie that gets posted on Facebook with the caption “hashtag social distancing” is a hard no for me. I want my family and friends to be with me for the long run, not just for a dinner or a brunch or a picture. Sure, I miss vactioning, going out to eat, enjoying a night out with some friends on the weekends. But do you know what I miss more? Real quality time with the people I love, hugging my parents, celebrating every little thing with my family, not having to talk to my aunts and uncles from the porch/through a mask, my child being able to play with her friends. So I’m going to stay inside as long as I need to in order to experience those things again.

I’m sure if I sat here, I could think of so many more things to add to this list. That’s one thing that I’ve learned in therapy. When you take the time to write things out, you tend to look at things a little differently and you’re able to put things into perspective. Have I gotten to do any of the things I actually had planned for 2020? No. But look at all the stuff I did do! Unintentionally! Look at me: slowing down, making boss bitch moves at work, becoming a better version of myself, surviving all the shit that 2020 and my 31st year has thrown my way. Does life look different right now? Absolutely! But am I still living it to the fullest? Hell yeah!! Instead of refusing to move on to 32, I’m embracing it with open arms because at the end of the day, life is what you make it. So, happy birthday to me and my little blog!