Survivor Series 2023

Part XI

Dawn, 58, Hebron, IL

December 19, 2023

"Now we got problems

And I don't think we can solve 'em

You made a really deep cut

Andy baby, now we got bad blood (hey!)"

-Taylor Swift "Bad Blood" 1989 (Taylor's Version)

Betrayed

Dawn was brutally raped by a trusted member of her family when she was 19 years old in 1984.

This is her survivor story.

Dawn lived in a small town in New Jersey. She was 19 and had just obtained her own small apartment with a roommate and had her whole life ahead of her. She was still reeling from the breakup of her first love and a terminated pregnancy at age 18, but other than that she was moving on in life.

In 1979, Dawn's mother had married her stepdad. He was the third child of a large family. Dawn enjoyed his family, and his two younger brothers were around her age. Technically they were her step-uncles. The youngest married and moved to Florida. The other, we'll call him "D", was charming, a "lady killer" with blonde hair and blue eyes. He always had a girlfriend. Later, he enlisted in the Marines and married. He soon divorced and married for a second time. When "D" left the Marines, he came back to NJ to work at his brother (Dawn's stepdad's) Auto Shop.

Upstairs from her stepdad's business, Dawn's mother opened a Dog Grooming Shop. Dawn would often stop by the shops and have lunch with her mother and stepdad. "D" was always there. Dawn states they became closer, developing a brother/sister kind of relationship. She said there were times "D" flirted with her, but she wrote it off as "silliness" and never thought much of it because again, he was technically her step-uncle.

Dawn's apartment was on the second floor of a business and was rented to her by an elderly woman Dawn often helped. She began working in her cousin's hair salon. She recalls having Mondays off. She stopped by her stepdad's and "D" was there. They exchanged some words, basically him asking how apartment life was. They made small talk until "D" said he wanted to stop by and see it. This threw Dawn off guard because they didn't really have that kind of relationship and it struck her as odd.

She remembers thinking that she would never offer to entertain him because she had a roommate, and it was two young women living in tight quarters. She politely told him to "stop by sometime", a gesture that was polite, but one she didn't really mean, and left.

The incident happened on a Monday – her day off around 10:30am. Dawn can remember the start to her day well. She had errands to run but wanted to start her work out first. She remembers being in a sports bra and shorts. She was deep within her workout when she heard a knock at her door. Thinking it was her neighbor, she opened the door without a thought. Dawn felt shocked and embarrassed.

"D" said he was running a car part and was near the area so he thought he would stop by. Being a trusted member of her family, Dawn let him in and offered him a glass of water. She sat across from him on a separate sofa. She felt this situation so weird; she was at a loss for words. A few minutes later, "D" got up, put his glass of water down on the table and leaned down to try to kiss Dawn. As she stood up, "D" pushed her down to the floor. It was so shocking she tried to fight him with a smile, as though he was teasing or playing, but she soon realized how serious the situation was. As an ex-marine, there was no fighting him. He raped her, right there, on the floor of her first apartment.

Dawn explains that at the time her "spirit left her body". When it was over, "D" got dressed, asked Dawn not to share anything about their "special time", and called it "our secret".

After he left, Dawn does not remember crying (this is a normal trauma response). She called a friend to come over, but she was at work and said she and her husband would be over after work. She remembers showering for over an hour until the water ran cold. She does not remember using any soap and after she got out, she sat on the sofa all day long. She thinks she scratched him, as her fingers were sore for days.

As promised, her friends came over that night and she told them what happened with a blank, straight face. This is called a "flat affect", a way that your body protects itself against trauma. They insisted she go to the police. She refused. She says today that she is not sure why she refused. She could understand that something really bad had happened to her, and she felt ashamed that she was unable to fight him. She felt violated (rightfully so), and she didn't know how she could explain what had happened to her without feeling embarrassed.

In the late 70's, there was no SANE, no LaCASA. If you "cried rape", you were guilty until proven innocent. Dawn explains that she was "strong and was never going to let this happen to me again", but that is where rape survivors get the wrong message. She goes on to say that "no matter what you do, either you turn your offender into the police, or you shut your mouth and keep your problems to yourself…you lose." Every time the crime came to her mind, she had to relive it over and over. When it is a family member, it is hard to avoid them. It also never fails…they always come up in conversation.

Dawn states "I was dead. That day something was taken from me. It will never come back to me, even over thirty years later".

Dawn stayed home from work all week, only leaving home when she absolutely had to. Her roommate and friends did everything they could to make her comfortable. She felt they may have had a harder time with it than she did, "I was dead inside" she recalls. She had no sense of emotion; she felt as if she was in a coma. She could hear everyone talking but couldn't respond.

The following Monday… Around 10:30 am, Dawn was sitting on her sofa…no more working out for her as she was dead inside. A knock at the door. Since she now had made it a habit to chain her door, she asked who was there. It was "D". He said, "let me in". She replied "no". He asked why, and she told him she didn't want him there. He pushed her door as if trying to break it down. He waited a while, and then left.

Dawn was scared. She feared he would park outside and wait for her. She was constantly checking her rear-view mirror. She felt as if the paranoia would never end.

A few weeks later, Dawn returned to her normal routine. She avoided her parents and refused to acknowledge the crime. Dawn and her brother had always been close. She got him a job at a local pizza place in town back when she was in high school. One day she stopped by for lunch. They talked for a while, and he told her "D" had always been nasty to him and has always found an opportunity to pick on him. Suddenly Dawn could not contain herself. She felt the tears and her story welling up and she let it all out.

She knew her bother was not good with secrets. Even though she swore him to secrecy, she went home and awaited the phone calls that would surely come. Maybe she told him because she knew subconsciously that he would tell the family.

Her mother was the first to call. She insisted it was not too late to go to the police and she would be there to support her through everything. Dawn again refused police or counseling intervention. After the emotional call Dawn got in her car and drove around to get fresh air. She found herself driving by her stepdad's shop where she witnessed her mother and stepdad both yelling at "D" and pointing their fingers at him.

Suffice it to say he was out of a job.

Dawn goes on to say that eventually the storm calmed. "Don't they always? The thing about storms is that they eventually come back, even worse if not resolved."

In 1988 Dawn opened her own hair salon. It was completely successful. They expanded to hiring more hairdressers. However, her private life was not so successful. She went from one bad relationship to another. She still felt dead.

In 1992, feeling societal pressure to commit, she sold her business and married her husband. This was a radical decision for Dawn, and her family did not support this choice. She was looking to fill the hole inside of her…the hole "D" had taken from her.

She ended up marrying the most unfaithful and dishonest person she could find.

In 1993, Dawn had her daughter. The family was struggling… in more ways than one. The family ended up living with her mom and stepdad to save money. During this time Dawn was diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes and a Thyroid condition.

It was around this time that Dawn received a phone call from her stepdad's niece. We'll call her "N". She was two years younger than Dawn and lived in California with her young daughter. They had always been close. She was Dawn's stepcousin and would come to New Jersey for the summers. This was not a normal phone call. "N" was very upset because she had heard about what happened to Dawn. She told her that "D" started raping her at age twelve. She was raped several times by him, and she begged Dawn to go to authorities with her. Dawn refused. "N" called daily, crying and begging.

Dawn claims she was going through so much personal stress, money issues, health issues… it was just too much and was not something she was prepared to deal with.

Finally, "N" convinced her it was the right thing to do. Dawn thought about all the other victims he may have had… including his own children. "N" contacted the school where "D"'s children went, and they said they would check on them. Dawn contacted the District Attorneys Office. They were cold to Dawn… and her statute of limitations ran out. Amongst all of this, she felt re-victimized as "D"'s wife called and terrorized her.

The statute of limitations did not run out for "N", and she was hopeful. "N" had a daughter to care for and not a lot of extra money… plus not much family support. This made matters very hard for the case against "D". "N" began to spiral into a deep depression. She did receive medication from doctors, but she was struggling financially to get a ticket to New Jersey so that she could talk to a lawyer.

Dawn was scared for her… but also retreated from her. She felt that "N" was on a journey that Dawn did not want to be a part of. Her life was a total mess at the time. She started ignoring and avoiding her phone calls… and then they stopped.

Dawn received another, very different call from "D"'s wife. She said that "D" had come clean to her and she was extremely disturbed. She asked if "D" could apologize to her. Dawn refused.

September 11th, 1996. Dawn was now living in Illinois. She had a second child, two months old. Her sister called crying. "N" was dead.

"N" fed her daughter dinner (who was 8 years old at the time), climbed in bed with her, and shot her in the head before turning the gun on herself. A murder-suicide that made headlines everywhere. "N" was only 27 years old at the time.

A letter was found later, in which "N" stated she was taking her daughter to heaven with her to be with her daughter's father, who had died in a motorcycle accident years prior.

"N" struggled with the "why". She needed closure. Dawn said the with rape, "we all do". Dawn says she still has not received closure as he is still free to victimize whomever he chooses.

Dawn is divorced now and ALIVE. Although she feels she is still growing, she is struggling to find happiness every day. She has learned a lot about herself, and she's ready to claim that part of her as "who I am, and not what I am". "It is best to learn to embrace it as a powerful experience you were lucky enough to survive". "I am at peace".

Dawn now lives in our community as a small business owner. She is an artist, herbalist and Reiki Master using her skills to heal others and herself.

Jessica Slocum

Gold Rush Photography

Dawn in 1982

Dawn around the time of the incident.

Dawn around the time of the incident. 

Part X

Kellyn, 22, Woodstock, IL

October 21, 2023

"You're beautiful, every little piece, love

Don't you know you're really gonna be someone?

Ask Anyone"

-Taylor Swift "Stay Beautiful" 'Taylor Swift Debut

Attacked

Kellyn was viciously attacked by a dog on February 5, 2021. Exactly five months to the day after her wedding. The dog went after her face and almost completely tore off her nose. In the moment, she thought she was going to die. She is a survivor; this is her story.

On February 5th, 2021. Kellyn was babysitting for a family she knew, and her mother knew. She was primarily there for their son, and the two girls at home were responsible for the dogs. It started off as a completely normal day. Kellyn took the son to the bank to run an errand.

It was the peak of covid, and she was there to help with the son; making sure he got schoolwork done. The family owned two Great Danes. When she had met the family for the first time, they said one of the dog licks his paws because of anxiety and the other was "off". She didn't understand. She was told that the girls were responsible for the dogs and that they would be in their crates. They had two huge wire back-to-back crates that the Danes were normally in. The dogs had shock collars and Kellyn was told to shock them if they barked. She did not feel comfortable shocking the dogs and would beep their collars instead.

When Kellyn got back from the errand the dogs were out of their crates. It was around 3:00pm. She did not know why but assumed the girls had just let them out. They were not showing any signs of aggression or anxiety. One was asleep on the couch, the other was walking around. Before the incident, the son was making popcorn in the kitchen as they were about to watch The Flash (as a break from schoolwork). Kellyn sat next to the sleeping Dane and started to pet the back of his leg, just to let him know she was there. He seemed fine. Then he began to growl, and Kellyn figured he had been asleep and forgotten she was there. So, she reassured him saying "buddy it's ok". She continued petting him.

The next thing Kellyn remembers was his jaw latched to her face, shaking her back and forth like a rag doll. She does not remember how it happened. It felt like years mentally that he was on her face. She said she did not know how severe anything was at the time, and it felt like he was attached to her cheek, but in reality, he was attached to her nose area, across her face. At the time of the actual attack, she felt no pain. This was probably from adrenaline and shock.

Kellyn said that because of the trauma, she only remembers bits and pieces of this attack.

At this time, she had no idea what the other dog was doing or what the son was doing. She said she remembers either complete silence or herself screaming. She does not remember how the dog got off her or if there was blood on his face. She later learned that one of the girls in the home yelled the dog's name and he got off Kellyn and ran to his kennel like he did something wrong.

Before this dog got off her, she had a moment where she did not think she would survive the attack and she didn't think she would have time to tell the people in her life how much she loved them. Kellyn teared up as she told me this. This was very hard for her to work through in therapy. She had also just started trying to have a baby the month prior, so she became extra sensitive surrounding this issue.

The next thing Kellyn remembers was bolting up and running to the kitchen. She remembers the first blood drop from her nose on her sock and this is such a core memory for her. She went to the sink to try to stop the bleeding. She was still in no pain at this time. She had been taking an EMS class, so she knew to put pressure on her face. Blood was pouring out of her face. The bleeding would not stop. She grabbed her phone and tried to unlock it once. The blood kept falling on her phone and locked it for over a minute. More blood locked it for five minutes.

She then remembers the son she was watching screaming that they were going to "put the dog down". Kellyn began screaming for someone to give her a phone. One of the girls gave her a phone. Kellyn asked her to call 911 on a different phone and she called her mother Erin. She could not remember her husband's phone number, another trauma response. Her mom didn't answer the first time and she called again right away. She answered. Kellyn said "mom, I got bit by the dog". Her mother asked, "on the leg?" Kellyn said "no, on the face." Her mother replied, "Like half your face is gone?"

Kellyn did not know how severe the damage to her face was at this point. She went to the bathroom while still on the phone with her mother. She looked at her face and said "yes, half my nose is gone". She said she remembers her husband would be sleeping. He worked third shift at the time, and they only had one car. Her mother called her husband. Kellyn knew the ambulance would be on the way, and she knew they would not come in if any animals were out. She had one of the girls make sure all the animals in the house were put away, and the dogs were locked in their crates.

Kellyn put on her shoes and had been advised to put a big towel on her face to compress. She said no because it was now starting to hurt because it was sticking to her face and peeling it off hurt. She rinsed out the sink and made sure the girls threw away all the bloody paper towels. She worried about the blood and the mess, another trauma response. She walked out on her own and put her husband's keys in their car so that he could drive it.

It took the ambulance 30 minutes to arrive. The incident took place in Woodstock. They said when they arrived that there had been a problem at the Woodstock hospital, and that is why it took them so long. Kellyn's mother and husband Alec arrived around the same time as EMS. Her mother had picked up her husband.

They took vitals in the ambulance. Kellyn kept cracking jokes… another trauma response. While the ambulance was still in the driveway she communicated with the mother and father of the children, and the owners of the dogs. She asked them to call her mother to explain.

Next Kellyn called her identical twin sister Kiara. Yes, her identical twin sister. She Facetimed her to show her her injuries. It did not hit her at the time that they may not look identical anymore. Her sister is her closest friend.

At house, Kellyn was in the ambulance. The boy she was watching began having a panic attack about the dog getting put down. They couldn't leave because he was having a panic attack. Her mother talked to EMS and asked what was taking so long. They said they needed to wait for another ambulance before they could leave. Erin was not having this. She called the boy's father and had him give EMS consent to have him in her care so that the ambulance with her daughter in it could leave. The father gave consent over the phone to hand over care from the EMT's to Erin. The ambulance could finally leave.

When Kellyn looked at herself, it was like she was looking at a painting of someone else. She also noticed that she had been breathing through her mouth the entire time. In the ambulance they told her to breathe out through her nose and blood came out of the top of her nose at the bridge. The ambulance rerouted from Woodstock to Huntley.

The EMT's tried to tell Huntley her information over the phone. They asked what the problem was and she said the EMT had a hard time explaining that her nose was there but also not there. The tip was still there but the bridge was not. At first the Charge nurse mad. At this time, she had gauze on her face, and he asked her to lower the gauze when they arrived so the Charge nurse could see. She immediately assessed the situation and started her on pain medications.

They transferred her in fifteen minutes from Huntly to Northwestern Chicago because they did not have a plastic surgeon on call.

Once in the transfer ambulance, Kellyn wasn't really thinking clearly and told her mother it was all her fault and that they did not need to put the dog down, etc. This is another trauma response. Erin informed her that they had already put the dog down. Her mom said they had put the dog down immediately.

Once she arrived at Northwestern Chicago around 5pm, she asked if everyone would crowd around her, and they said yes. The exact opposite happened. They just told her to go to ER Room 6. This was during peak Covid-19 time, and they needed more rooms so there were fake walls, quarantines, etc. Two PA's/doctor students came in to assess the situation. She had already been cleaned off at Huntley. They asked about pain and began giving her more pain medication.

Kellyn then had CT scans, tests, and then "a lot of nothing happened for a while". A student plastic surgeon came in because the plastic surgeon was "on call" and they sent him photos of her face and he didn't think he could do anything that day. The student took the photos. The student Plastic Surgeon placed over 100 stitches in her face that evening. She left the bridge of her nose open. The top of the bridge… because they needed to see if the skin and tissue would die or not. If it was unhealthy, they would need a skin graft.

During the stitching, the student PS was in and out of her room for five hours. She got paged and left, called out, and left. Every time she came back, she had to stick her with a needle of Lidocaine. It was awful and traumatic. She did not feel like a priority. Kellyn advocated for herself finally and told her to finish before leaving again. With the Lidocaine wearing off, Kellyn could not stand another shot and had her do the last 20 stitches without Lidocaine. She told Alec to go home because he still had not slept from the night before.

After her husband left Northwestern, they wanted to discharge her. She was in disbelief. Needing round the clock pain medication, being through such a traumatic event and missing half her nose… she could not believe they would want to send her home. She advocated for herself to stay, and they got her room on short stay unit. Once there she had the sweetest nurses. They could not believe they were going to discharge her. She still could not breathe out of her nose.

She stayed in hospital for two days. She had thrown up a lot from the pain medications. They had to try a few different ones. Kellyn had to go home with Norco because she could not handle anything stronger than that.

The day after the accident she met Dr. Douglas for a consult and then Dr. Sidle became Kellyn's plastic surgeon.

She met Dr. Sidle after a week of being at home. Kellyn discharged home to her mother's because her husband was working overnights, and they had a German Shephard at home (who was a puppy) but still the trauma was there. An immediate fear of dogs… even her own. She was not even aware of how much trauma she had at this time. Her family started a GOFUNDME that first week. The community came together and was able to give her and her husband 1 year of not having to worry about their mortgage. For this, Kellyn is incredibly grateful.

Ten days after the incident Kellyn began EMDR therapy. Six months after the incident, she was diagnosed with depression at her annual Primary Care Physician appointment and was started on Lexapro. She stayed in it for one year.

Her twin Kiara was helping her with would care – they are both CNA's. One day they looked at each other and just started crying because they were not going to look identical again. Their connection and bond never wavered.

Dr. Sidle initially said they needed to wait longer to see if the skin maintained good health. February 22 was Kellyn's first surgery. She had already had her stitches taken out. The first surgery was basically Dr. Sidle stitching and closing the gap on her bridge. She did not need a skin graft.

Three days before her second surgery was Kiara's wedding. She did not "look like me", and she apologized to the Kiara for not looking like her old self… and her. Kiara was not upset at all. She understood, but Kellyn took it very hard. She was her Maid of Honor, as Kiara was hers.

The next surgery was at the six-month mark. October 13, 2021. Dr. Sidle took muscle from her head (temple) and some bone from her rib. He essentially made it into a "sausage" and put it into her nose to form the bridge because there was no form; the dog had ripped it all out. He also did some razor work to help with scarring.

Kellyn then had steroid injections in her face to lighten her scars. She went for 6 sessions from October 2021 to June 2022. She had to travel to Chicago for each injection. After six months, she decided to stop them. She had PTSD from the lidocaine incident. She was getting shots in her face, and her face didn't have time to heal and neither did her mental health.

She had no more surgeries after that.

Another HUGE part of this time in Kellyn's life is that she started trying for a baby one month before the incident. After the incident Dr. Sidle's assistant surgeon told Kellyn and Alec to stop trying. They said, "if you want to have these surgeries you can't be put under general anesthesia if pregnant". This was a big blow.

Kellyn worked through this in therapy. After she was cleared after second surgery; her surgeon told her it was ok to start trying again (December 2021). They tried for one year after her clearance.

Kellyn and Alec found out they were pregnant with their daughter Macyn on September 21, 2022.

While pregnant, her mother had an idea for a project. Erin said "something good will come out of this. A non-profit, something, it will help someone".

In July 2023, meetings started happening for Macyn's Jars. Mission Statement – We work to provide a silver lining on an otherwise cloudy day.

They are mason jars for kids or special needs, adults, or addicts over the age of three to provide a distraction in a hospital setting. The jars include things to occupy the time and fidget toys for anxiety. Lately, there has been a demand for them, and they have been branching out to other settings such as pediatric offices.

Part of Kellyn's recovery is to find something positive. Something that was a silver lining. Macyn's Jars are available at Woodstock hospital, a pediatrician's office, and Marengo Ambulances.

Please visit the following website to support Maysen's Jars:

Website: www.macynsjars.org

Kellyn has been on quite the journey. As if the Covid 19 time could not be stressful enough, she had to deal with this trauma and even postponed her family planning. But she's come out the other side stronger and more beautiful than ever. She loves her German Shepherd, and her fear of dogs has gotten much better since the incident. Her scars make her a survivor. A warrior. A survivor.

Jessica Slocum

Gold Rush Photography

Kellyn prior to the attack.

Kellyn and Alec on their wedding day, 5 months before the attack.

Kellyn prior to the attack.

Kellyn after the attack.

Kellyn after the attack.

Kellyn after the attack.

Survivor Series 2022

Part IX

Jessica, age 39, Hebron, IL

August 4, 2022

"And I was catching my breath

Staring out an open window

Catching my death

And I couldn't be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for

Evermore

I'm on waves, out being tossed

And I couldn't be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar

This pain wouldn't be for

Evermore"

-Taylor Swift

"evermore"

'evermore' 

Submerged

My story begins November 1, 2016, just two days after I gave birth to my third son, Theo. To tell my story properly, I must back up...back way up.

On October 26, 2011, I gave birth to our first son, Henry Jude. I had an uneventful pregnancy, other than sciatic nerve issues. I went into labor on October 25, 2016, at 4am. Now, since this was our first child, we had been to the hospital a few times with false alarms and Braxton-Hicks. I was getting frustrated because every nurse and doctor kept telling me, "You'll know when it is time." I was a new mom and did not know what that meant. The only research I could find was that every pregnancy, labor, and delivery were different. This created so much anxiety. The unexpected. Well, on that morning...I just KNEW. They were all right.

Once at my OB-GYN's office, I was checked to see if I had dilated or effaced. My doctor scraped my membranes (excruciating), which naturally speeds up the labor process. Then she had me go across the street to the hospital where I would deliver my baby. This was around 10am, and she arrived at the hospital after her shift around 5pm. I had not progressed even though my contractions were out of control, and I was only dilated to one centimeter. I had never felt any kind of pain so severe in my entire life. She told me that I should go home and labor there until I dilated more - I refused. There was no way I was going home in that much pain. I was scared, and I begged for an epidural. She told me that I was "not moving along fast enough" for that yet, but did agree, however, to Pitocin (a synthetic form of oxytocin, used to induce labor). Pitocin will take labor from a Stage One to a Stage Three very quickly. The pain became unbearable at this point, and the contractions were fast and furious.

Again, I was not progressing because my body was so tight and tense from the fear, anxiety, and pain. I sat in the labor and delivery shower and just let hot water run on my back for hours. I walked the halls and swayed with my arms over my husband's neck for support moaning in pain. This is when I believe I experienced birth trauma. My husband Eric and mother Peg both advocated for me to have an epidural as I started screaming and crying in pain. I started panicking and "lost it." It was midnight on the 26th at this point, and I had not had food, water, or sleep...only pain. FINALLY, my doctor agreed to give me a pain/relaxant medication in hopes that my body would loosen up enough to dilate, so that she could order the epidural. The medication offered gave me some relief, but the pain was still excruciating. I felt like I was dying.

Around 1am I had dilated about half a centimeter more, and this was just enough to order the epidural. I was delirious by this point, and when the anesthesiologist came in with the needle, I looked at him like Jesus Christ himself. I had instant relief after it was inserted. I could breathe. I felt numb and thanked God for it. I slept for one hour. As I woke to turn over in my hospital bed, I felt the gush of my waters (amniotic fluid sac) breaking. At this point, I literally felt my baby slide down my body and its head pressing into my cervix. I could tell the waters had been a cushion for him/her, and now that cushion was gone. This was not painful, just different and scary. I immediately woke my husband up and told him to get the nurse. I had progressed to six centimeters. I felt so much relief and excitement. We did not know the gender, and since this was our first child, we were both scared, happy, and nervous all at the same time. A half hour later I was checked again and was dilated to a ten. It was time to push.

Now this is where it gets murky. The epidural drip was so effective that I was too numb to be able to push correctly. My doctor reduced it, and I started crying; I told her I could not do it without the epidural medication. She informed me that my baby was too far down in the birth canal. I pushed for two and a half hours (after three hours of pushing, you need to have a c-section, for reference). At three hours, my doctor basically had to perform a c-section from my vagina. She cut me from my birth canal to my anus and used a suction device (it literally looked like a toilet plunger) on its head and with a couple draws, extracted the baby out. I felt INSTANT relief once the baby was born.

I do not remember who told me it was a boy, but my husband and I were overjoyed, both of us crying uncontrollably...partly because we had a SON, but also because the worst hours of my life were over. Immediately they laid him on my bare chest, and I kissed his gooey head (which looked like a cone from the suction). We named him Henry Jude.

This happiness was short-lived. They took Henry to do the normal tests and give him a bath. Something in that timeframe changed for me and I started to reflect on what I had just been through. I believe this is when my Birth Trauma Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) started. I was getting stitched up by my doctor and it was taking an immense amount of time. I just wanted to move my legs which had been in stirrups for hours, but I needed numerous stitches. I started getting angry and resentful at my new son for what he just put me through. At this point in time, I had been through over 32 hours of pain and pushing, delusions, fear, no food or water, and no sleep. They handed this perfect baby back to me, and I immediately gave him over to my husband...I did not even want to look at him. I told the nursing staff beforehand that I did not want to breastfeed, and I did not want them to make me try. They respected my wishes and handed me a bottle to try and feed him. It took every ounce of my being to feed him that bottle.

Eventually, I was moved to the recovery side of Labor and Delivery, and I asked that Henry go to the nursery since I desperately needed food and sleep. I ate and then slept for four hours. Once that happened, I was in a much better place, and bonded with Henry. However, the pain lingered for weeks, and I was unable to tell my birth story without shaking uncontrollably. I have no doubt that I had PTSD from that experience. The reason I tell this story, is because I believe it plays a part in my future postpartum depression (PPD) journey.

When Henry was one and a half, we decided to expand our little family so that he could have a sibling. Within about two months, I got pregnant with our second child. Again, we did not find out the gender of the baby. I knew more of what to expect, but also had so much more anxiety this time because I knew what I was going to have to go through. I picked a new doctor and a new hospital. I wanted a male doctor this time because I felt like since he did not know what it was like personally to have a baby, he would listen to me more empathetically. He had a dry sense of humor and I liked him right away. I went into labor in the early morning hours of December 23, 2013. I stood in the shower and cried as I had contractions, fearing the worst. It all started coming back to me....it washed over me in waves. Remembering the pain...the pushing. Around 6am, we went to the hospital where I was admitted. Again, history repeated itself; I had horrific contractions and was not dilating so they could not do anything.

My doctor was delivering other babies, so I just had nurses going back and forth to him with my progress. I told one nurse in particular my story of Henry's labor and delivery experience and I started having a panic attack. I begged her...I told her that if I could just get some medication to help my body relax, I would dilate. This nurse advocated for me and got me the same relaxant medication they gave me when I was in labor with Henry. They did not start Pitocin this time, thank God.

The nurse came in a while later and checked my progress. I had not dilated further, but she saw my anxiety and fear, and she LIED. She lied and told the doctor I that I dilated just enough to go ahead and break my waters and give me an epidural. To this day, I am indebted and forever grateful for this nurse, she is a true angel on earth. My anesthesiologist came in and gave me my epidural and then my doctor came in and manually broke my waters. I told them all that after this, I was going to progress quickly. My doctor said I still had several hours, and that he was going to go home to change clothes and eat; I warned him that might not be the best idea.

There was a shift change and I was assigned a nurse who was also a licensed doula. This was fantastic for me! She put me in positions I did not even know existed for labor, and I felt the baby slowly come down the birth canal. I will always remember this nurse, as she eased my mind, pain, and probably some of the after-birth issues. At this point I began to get anxious about pushing. It had been an hour since the doctor broke my waters, and sure enough, I was dilated to a ten. They had to call him right back, and once he came back in my room I said, "I told you!" He laughed.

I could tell this epidural was different somehow...higher up on my spine. Once the baby hit a certain point, I felt EVERYTHING. There was so much pressure. The only way to describe it, was like "a bomb getting ready to go off." I was screaming as I pushed. I yelled for him to just "get it out." He looked me right in my eyes and told me "No. You are going to do this on your own. You can do it." I believed him, but I was in SO much pain. I pushed for forty-five minutes, which was nothing compared to Henry. I pushed that baby out all by myself with no assistance. Once the baby was out, I felt instant relief. Again, someone told me it was a boy. We cried happy tears.

We named him Louis Jet. I immediately bonded with Louis, and that bond has never wavered. I do not know if it was the ease and support during his labor, or if I knew him in another life, but he is one extraordinary child, and we have a very special connection. He needed to stay in the hospital for four days instead of two due to a possible infection. The staff let us keep our recovery room (for free) to stay in the hospital with him (even though I had him sleep in the nursery, which I highly recommend). It is not something to feel guilty about, especially if you are not breastfeeding.

My sweet boy and I spent Christmas together in the hospital and big brother Henry visited. We waited to have "Santa" come and celebrate Christmas as a family when we got home from the hospital. Henry was two years old, and too little to understand, so it worked out perfectly. In the weeks that followed Louis's birth, I would describe my mood as having the baby blues or one step up from that. Not full-blown postpartum depression...but more guilt that I was not spending as much time with Henry and my hormones were wacky. Also, Lou had some health problems that probably contributed to this. He needed his adenoids out and tubes placed in his ears at eighteen-months-old due to several ear infections. He was diagnosed with chronic constipation, and a severe peanut allergy.

When Lou was two years old, my husband and I started trying for our third baby. I desperately wanted a girl, and I just knew God would give me one. How could I have three boys? It never even crossed my mind. I had wanted a little princess since I was young, especially since I am such a "girlie girl" myself. I got pregnant immediately. This pregnancy was different. I gained a lot of weight, was very swollen, and had horrific sciatic nerve pain. I had bad acne and my hair was dry. This just "confirmed" that I was having a girl. My husband and I were firm believers that we wanted the surprise at the end, so during our 20-week ultrasound, we chose again, not to find out the sex.

On October 30, 2016, in the early morning hours, I went into labor with our third child. At a recent doctor visit with a new female doctor (because my last doctor had left the practice) she said that the baby was transverse (sideways instead of head down) and too large to move. She estimated he/she was about ten pounds and had "no room" to shift into delivery position. I was also extremely sick with pneumonia. We scheduled a c-section. Finally, I would get my c-section and I would not have to push, have contractions, or go through that emotional roller coaster.

We arrived at the hospital, and I was in a great mood (despite having pneumonia). I was ready to get this huge baby off my lungs as it was making the pneumonia so much worse (since the room my lungs had to expand was restricted). My contractions were not terrible yet, but I knew I was in labor. My doctor said she had booked an operating room for the surgery but just needed "one last look" with an ultrasound to make sure that the baby had not moved. Well (my luck being my luck) the baby was head down and in delivery position. My birthing plan went from c-section to a vaginal delivery in an instant. I was devastated... "devastation" does not even really describe it. I did not want to go through labor and delivery...especially with a severe case of pneumonia. In addition to this, my new doctor was very rude and had extremely poor bedside manner (she has since been let go of that practice).

I was not at all prepared, or in the mindset needed to go through a marathon labor and delivery. Especially since I had been told for weeks that I was going to have a c-section.

As my contractions progressed, she informed me that I was not dilating (surprise, surprise). I told her that if she would just order an epidural and break my waters, we would have a baby shortly after. I had done it twice already, and by now, I knew MY OWN BODY. I remember her sitting on my bedside and telling me in a very condescending voice that she had two children (so had I), and sometimes "you must go home and labor...that these things take time." It was at this point, I lost it. I started screaming out into the hallway that I wanted a different doctor because she was not listening to me. Fun fact...if you ask for a new Labor and Delivery doctor/OBG-YN, or any doctor for that matter, they MUST respect your wishes and find someone else. So, at this point, she begrudgingly ordered my epidural and broke my waters. And guess what? About an hour later, we had a baby. Now, this labor and delivery, even though I was not prepared, was probably my easiest, despite being on oxygen the whole time for the pneumonia. I suggest you always advocate for what YOU know YOUR body needs. Then I heard the words...

"It's a boy."

Wait. What? Can you check again? Are you sure? Is he healthy? Is he okay? With a mixture of shock, disappointment, pure adrenaline, and unconditional love, I wrapped my son tightly in my arms. He was meant to be, God, or our Higher Power, did not make a mistake. For two days I felt fine. He was born an hour before game five of the Cubs World Series, and that was the game they won (and went on to in the World Series). We named him Theo John.

I spent Halloween in the hospital, just me and my boy. Then we were ready to go home. That is when it hit me, and I began the worst journey of my life.

I remember the exact moment I knew I had postpartum depression. It was like a switch flipped and I just felt "different." My new baby was laying on the bed in his "going home outfit" while the girl "going home outfit" lay cold in the suitcase. I was sitting at the little hospital room table with my husband. There was light coming through the window. Eric asked me if I was disappointed that I did not have a girl and I felt a "snap" in my brain. I did not know what to say. I had a perfectly healthy baby; I did not want to sound ungrateful, but something "snapped." That image of Theo laying on that bed was the last memory I had of him until his first birthday party.

Since I worked in the mental health field and had two previous babies (and did not feel this way), I knew something was very, very wrong. I refused to leave the hospital without an antidepressant. Now, this is a rare and bold move. Many women say NOTHING because of the stigma that surrounds new mothers. We are expected to feel a connection immediately, bond with our babies, and go home to "rainbows and roses." No one really questioned or checked in with me about my mental health. Medical Personnel did not seem concerned and did not have me talk with a counselor before they discharged me. So, I was given my medications and I was sent home. I should never have been sent home.

The next three months were just a blur...I barely ate, I was losing weight at a very rapid pace (60 pounds total), I cried all the time, I was in a fog, and felt dead inside. I did not want to leave my bed, and leaving my bedroom made me very anxious. I felt like I was in a big black hole and very alone. I felt like no one understood me, and no one (except Eric, my mother-in-law, and my mom) knew what I was going through. I did not take care of myself; I did not shower, I did not brush my teeth or my hair, I did not get up or get ready...and I am one of the lucky ones, I had support. I had a wonderful husband, mother, and mother-in-law. They were genuinely concerned, but again... what do you do? There is no handbook on how to deal with postpartum depression.

When people came over, I would try to fake it, and admittedly, I thought I was good at it. When people talked to me, I looked like I was listening, but I was not. I could not even concentrate long enough to hold a conversation. I went through the motions to take care of my newborn and two other children the best I could. I could not bond with my baby, and I had intrusive thoughts, which are unwanted thoughts that you cannot stop from happening, but you do not act on. You know that these thoughts are wrong, and they can be scary. My intrusive thoughts came mostly when I gave Theo a bath. I would have intrusive thoughts of holding him under the water. Now, I would never have done this, but the postpartum depression caused these unwanted, distressing thoughts.

I would hate hearing "But look at all you have! You are so blessed!" It gave me more guilt than I already had, and it was a vicious cycle. I knew I was lucky, and I knew I was blessed. I have a beautiful, supportive family - I did not need to hear the obvious. I did not know why this was happening to me, and I was angry about it.

The next few months were a shit show, for lack of a better term. I continued to get sicker, and my medications only increased. At one point I was on 200mg of the SSRI antidepressant Zoloft, which was 50mg past the MAXIMUM therapeutic dose. I went "through the motions," but unfortunately felt nothing for my new baby - no connection. Then came the mom guilt. I felt guilty that I was sick, I felt guilty that I could not connect with this new baby. I felt guilty that I was not present for my other two kids.

Eric held it together the best he could, but postpartum depression is not something you shout from the rooftops. We ended up telling our closest friends and family, shut the curtains, locked the doors, and dealt with it. I had NO resources; I had no testing or support from any doctors...and they knew I had PPD. They just kept diagnosing me with severe postpartum depression and anxiety, increased my medications, and added new ones. This HAS to stop. We must do better with perinatal maternal mental healthcare. I could have used peer support or even groups at the time. Also, we should not shy away and shut ourselves in to have to deal with this stigma. If a woman has breast cancer (for example and not to ever diminish that), what happens? Meals get delivered, people surround and support, hold fundraisers, create comfort baskets, etc. This needs to be the norm for postpartum mothers as well.

I remember one time in particular a good friend of mine came over, and as she was talking to me, I was looking right through her. She got up, went downstairs, and told Eric something was VERY wrong. Prior to that day, my mother urged my husband to admit me to the hospital. It was a discussion that happened several times. By six or seven months postpartum, I was back to work. The medications were working just enough for me to go back to my job as a Consumer Services Associate Director of a mental health agency and appear normal. I do not really remember this time because I was in a fog - partly from the medications, and partly from the depression. What I do remember, is my twenty-five-minute drive to work every day. I remember this one specific tree. It was big enough that if I were going at the right speed, I could hit it head on, and it would all end. The pain, the guilt, the shame, the feelings of failure...it would all be gone in an instant. The best part? People would think I was just in an "accident." They would be none-the-wiser that I had killed myself. My husband would find a new, sweet wife who would give him what he needed and love my kids in a way I could not. It gave me immense joy, almost a "high" to pass that tree; and I looked forward to seeing it every day...BUT it stopped there. I never "made a plan" to hit the tree, and I never attempted it. I would describe it as a "fantasy or daydream," and I did not talk about this to anyone for a couple of years out of shame. This is the first time I have spoken publicly about this. I should not have felt shame.

So how or why does one get postpartum depression? There is no "one thing" that causes it and there is no cure. I think FOR ME it was a perfect storm. Theo's birth did not go as planned. I was not in the correct mindset and had not gone into it prepared. I was already very physically ill with pneumonia. He was a boy...he was my third and last baby. I had gender disappointment (which is an actual diagnosis). I had to grieve the loss of a daughter I had created in my mind, and all the moments I was going to have with her. Matching outfits and painted nails, her first school dance, her first crush, watching Rom-Coms with her in bed eating chocolate, wedding dress shopping, placing the pearls I wore at my wedding, that my mother and her mother before that wore at their weddings around her neck on her day, watching her get walked down the aisle and dance with Eric at her wedding...the list continues and sometimes I see or hear something and it will hit me out of the blue with grief. I had a traumatic birth experience with my first son, and I never processed that. I had two other children under five-years-old, and the pressure was just too much. I had also been pregnant three times in five years. Also, the hormones. There are also some studies that PPD can be hereditary, and my mother had a postpartum anxiety attack after me which caused her to hyperventilate and go to the hospital. Hormones play a significant role in PPD, and so do pre-risk factors.

Symptoms of postpartum depression and anxiety:

I am going to give brief examples of my symptoms listed below. If you have one or more of these symptoms within the first year of giving birth and it is ongoing, you could have or have had postpartum depression, and should reach out to a medical professional or trusted person.

Feelings of anger or irritability:

I used to call it postpartum rage (which is also a real diagnosis). I never got so angry over trivial things in my entire life. One example is that for Theo's baptism, I ordered cupcakes with fondant crosses on them. When I got them, the crosses were not PERFECT. I seriously thought I was going insane. The cupcakes were also in the shape of a cross (but why did I care? I could just rearrange them.) I called and complained to the poor baker (who I found out had just come back from her own maternity leave). It was super irrational and nothing I would have done if it were the "normal" me. I still feel sorry for that whole situation.

Lack of interest in the baby:

I do not remember the entire first year of Theo's life, and I had no interest in him whatsoever. No feelings, no love...just numbness, which lasted until his first birthday. Thank God he will not remember this time, and thank God I had such a supportive partner, in-laws, mother, and pictures.

Appetite and sleep disturbance:

I lost sixty pounds quickly after having Theo, all in about two months. I was not eating because I had NO appetite. Sleep was another thing; either I was sleeping (all day, for days on end), or I was up all-night, distracting myself with stupid projects. Again, very irrational. This is something I still struggle with because recovery is not linear.

Crying and sadness:

I cried over anything and everything. For a person who hardly ever cried, this was a big shock for me. I remember not just crying, but sobbing uncontrollably in my bathroom, and I had no idea why. This went with the anger, and anything could set me off. I felt sad all the time.

Feelings of guilt, shame, or hopelessness:

This, for me, was the worst of them all, and the root of all evil. I felt like such a shitty mom. I was a shitty mom, but it was not my fault. It was this devastating disease. I felt guilty for not having feelings for Theo. I felt guilty for not wanting anything to do with my other two kids at the time. I was absent...physically and mentally for about a year. For the longest time, I harbored guilt over this. I did not think I could be a parent. I felt like I was drowning with an anchor tied to my legs (the reason I got an anchor tattoo on Theo's first birthday). The guilt was the hardest to overcome, and I needed therapy to do it.

Loss of interest or pleasure in things I used to enjoy:

I did not enjoy anything Theo's entire first year and longer. I did not even want to eat or shower. I would have friends visit, and I would look right through them as they talked to me.

Possible thoughts of harming the baby or yourself:

This one is the hardest to admit. I never actually had a thought of harming my child/children, rather, an intrusive thought about Theo (explained above). Intrusive thoughts are not anything you can control, but they can be very scary. I also never had any intention or plan to harm myself, just a fantasy (also explained above).

So, yes, I had all these symptoms, but you do not need to have ALL of them for a diagnosis. I had a very severe, debilitating form of postpartum depression and anxiety. Some people will not experience it as intensely or as long as I did. Think of it as a spectrum.

I am better now, but it has changed me. It took medication, therapy, a lot of self-reflection, and challenging work.

I am so proud of how far I have come. I am proud of my husband, who has stuck with me when he could have easily quit. This disease is not kind to a marriage.

Theo turned five-years-old in October of 2021, and I love him with all my heart. It is okay if you do not connect with your baby right away - it is even okay to feel resentment like I did. I mean, my thinking at the time was, "I'm sick because of you." That, and other intrusive thoughts are normal as I came to find out in therapy. I hope as the years go by, my memories of my last child as a baby will return. I hope they are still there, filed away somewhere in my brain.

In all honesty, I am not the person I was before having my son, Theo. I am different and that is okay. I still have bad days, I have an unhealthy relationship with sleep, and am still on medication. I have terrible seasonal affective depression disorder (SADD), which I never had before my postpartum depression. I can finally get through holidays without making excuses to leave, or retreat to a bedroom because it is all too intense, which is great progress. But I still must prepare myself for them.

Currently, I love being a peer support and advocate for other mothers who are suffering, or for those who are just navigating life as a mom. I have written two news articles and spoken at a public event. I have successfully turned this burden into a passion. My mission is for maternal mental health to improve in the United States. We must do better. We need better screening tools and counselors who are trained to speak with EVERY mom before she leaves the hospital after giving birth, regardless of if she is having symptoms or not. We also need to stop the stigma so she can reach out for help without feeling ashamed or feeling as if someone will "take her baby away." If I can help one person, my job is done.

Up to 80% of new mothers will experience the baby blues after the birth of a child as their hormones are trying to regulate. This is very normal and should not last more than three weeks. It has remarkably similar symptoms to PMS, just a bit more intense. After having a baby, it is normal to be anxious, scared, and worried. What is NOT normal, however, is when this lasts more than a month, and anxiety and depression outweigh any joy or happiness you feel for your new child. It is NOT normal to cry all day long, or at the drop of a hat. It is NOT normal to ignore your hygiene, people around you, and everything else that was important before your child was born. What is extremely frustrating, is that society has not fully embraced new mothers' mental health, and often, women are not asked about it until their six-week checkup.

I did not have this with Henry and Louis. I think that in some way it was always there, festering, but it did not rear its ugly head until hours before I left the hospital with Theo. That is why I started my story with Henry's and Louis's births. I was lucky to have caught it so early on (it got much worse from there, but at least treatment was started). The short of it is, that I was 1 in 7 who suffered from debilitating depression after having a child. I became a statistic.

Postpartum depression crosses all socioeconomic classes, races, and religions. No woman is immune. My entire outlook on having babies and new moms has completely changed. Rarely do I ask a new mom how her baby is. I always ask how she is. Sometimes this gets a puzzling look, but sometimes not. Ask. Always ask. Please look for the signs. Bring her dinner. Help her clean. Let her sleep. I assure you; the baby is fine. He/she is cute. He/she is okay. Mom may not be, and I guarantee no one has asked her how she is.

I have been researching maternity care in America for years.

Did you know that in many countries, women get a wet nurse for SIX months?

Did you know that these women know what to look for in postpartum depression?

Did you know that because someone who knows what to do is helping them, they get rest and do not feel alone, so the rate of postpartum depression is lower?

Did you know that in other countries the phrase "it takes a village to raise a child" is actually executed?

Did you know that in several other countries women get six months to a year of maternity leave?

No matter your political stance, women are DYING from childbirth in America. This extends to suicide due to postpartum depression/psychosis. Postpartum psychosis (or perinatal psychosis) is a serious mental health issue that can affect new mothers who have recently given birth. It is sometimes referred to as postnatal psychosis or puerperal psychosis. It is important to note that the development of postpartum psychosis may occur abruptly, unexpectedly, in women with or without any history of mental illness. Postpartum psychosis usually begins in the initial few days to weeks after the delivery. Women often regress very quickly and; hence, it needs to be treated as a medical emergency. It is often accompanied by delusions and religious hallucinations or obsessions. This is the most dangerous end of the postpartum depression spectrum, and if it goes untreated, it can result in child death and suicide (think Andrea Yates).

It is okay to get on prescription medication. Remember to take care of your mental health because your brain is an organ just like the rest of the organs in your body - it can get sick too.

I mention Theo's first birthday as my very first memory of him. On this day, I got an anchor tattoo on my wrist to remind me of my journey. It symbolizes being underwater for me, being held under the waves...because that is what it felt like - being submerged. Now my head is above water. The waters are still and there is no undertow. I also added "Francis" after my grandfather's middle name to his name on that day. It really was a turning point for me...a rebirth. It was the beginning of a new journey for Theo and me...one of healing.

Theo John Francis. This pain would not last forevermore.

So today, I thank all of you who have looked at my photos and made it this far in reading my story. My decision to do a "Survivor Series" started with myself. I felt the need to let women know that they are not alone...that this condition does exist, and it does not make someone weak or a "bad mother." Most of all, I wanted to tell women that you do not have to be submerged forever...there are life rafts, and I am one of them.

Jessica Slocum, BS

Gold Rush Photography

Me at my worst, about 7 months into PPD. Theo falling asleep on my chest, ironically, on a boat in the water.

The tattoo I got on Theo's first birthday, a symbol of being anchored down and submerged. To remind me I had lived.

Theo's first birthday party, and my very first memory of him since his birth. Ironic choice for a birthday theme...nautical.

My husband Eric, me, then from left to right: Henry, Theo, and Louis on Easter 2022.

Dedicated to my son, Theo John Francis, my husband, and the love of my life Eric, and to all mothers who have lost their lives or their children to this debilitating disease.

Part VIII

Shelley, age 32, Hebron, IL

July 26, 2022

Soon, you'll get better

-Tylor Swift (feat. The Chicks)

'Soon You'll Get Better'

"Lover"

Kicking Cancer's Ass

When I first received Shelley's story, it was short. As I interviewed her, face-timed her, texted her, I started to unravel this onion. She is such a loving and deep person. When I told her about my vision for her photoshoot, to photograph her topless and let her beautiful battle scars show, she was all in. That is what I love about Shelley...she takes every opportunity that comes her way. She trusted me and had confidence to do such a shoot in a way that would convey her story and be classy. Shelley felt awful and sick the day of our shoot, but she persevered...and the results came out amazing.

Shelley lives with her 1-year-old daughter Novalee, her mother, father, and thirteen-year-old niece Mckayla. Novalee is Shelley's first and only child.

She claims she had an awful pregnancy and was diagnosed with preeclampsia (a potentially dangerous pregnancy complication characterized by high blood pressure) early on. She was induced at thirty-five weeks and gave birth to her daughter Novalee. She then developed postpartum eclampsia (a condition of high blood pressure and excess protein in the urine. This can lead to seizures.) a week and a half after birth. She said her blood pressure was extremely high.

In May of 2021, just as she was a settling into her new role as a mother to a three-month-old and with the hopes she would be doing it along with returning to work as a correctional officer after maternity leave, she decided to set up an appointment to get a lump on her breast checked out. She had been breastfeeding. Shelley had fibrocystic breasts (benign, hereditary, cysts) prior to pregnancy, so when she felt a lump on her breast...she was not concerned right away. She said this one was growing from the time of Novalee's birth at a rapid pace, and it was hard to the touch. A couple of days before she went back to work, she got a biopsy. They ended up finding two tumors, one being 3.6 centimeters and the other was 3.2 centimeters. One was in the lymph node of her right breast and the other was in her actual breast. Then Shelley got the diagnosis. Breast cancer. Stage 3C invasive ductal carcinoma was her exact diagnosis. Thinking she only had Mastitis (Mastitis isan inflammation of breast tissue that sometimes involves an infection (common while breastfeeding)) only to walk away from that visit with a Stage 3 Triple Negative Breast Cancer diagnosis.

Breast cancer stages range from 0 to IV with 0 indicating cancer that is noninvasive or contained within the milk ducts. Stage IV breast cancer, also called metastatic breast cancer, indicates cancer that has spread to other areas of the body.Typically, triple-negative breast cancer patients will receive a combination of surgery, radiation therapy, and chemotherapy.Triple negative grade 3 is an aggressive type of cancer.

Types Of Breast Cancer

There are several types of breast cancer, and any of them can metastasize.What Is Triple-Negative Breast Cancer?

Triple-negative breast cancer is a kind of breast cancer that does not have any of the receptors that are commonly found in breast cancer.

Think of cancer cells as a house. The front door may have three kinds of locks, called receptors-

• One is for the female hormone estrogen
• One is for the female hormone progesterone
• One is a protein called human epidermal growth factor (HER2).

If your cancer has any of these three locks, doctors have a few keys (like hormone therapy or other drugs) they can use to help destroy the cancer cells.

But if you have triple-negative breast cancer, it means those three locks are not there. So, doctors have fewer keys for treatment. Fortunately, chemotherapy is still an effective option.

Information courtesy of Mayo Clinic and the Center for Disease Control (CDC)

When she initially received her diagnosis, Shelley had a feeling, an intuition that something would be wrong. A woman's intuition. Because of this she took her mom with her. When the doctor discussed the diagnosis, Shelley's first reaction was to be strong for her mother, who had gone through the same breast cancer and was told it was not hereditary. She fell to pieces. Shelley did have the genetic testing done right away but during the time her mom had cancer it was not readily available, and they insisted hers was not genetic; only to find out after the test that it indeed was genetic. Shelley has a BRCA1 mutation which is a tumor suppressing gene, and unfortunately that mutation alone put her at a risk more than five times over the normal risk of a breast cancer diagnosis and often puts women at a risk more than thirty times the normal risk of an ovarian cancer diagnosis. Therefore, she has opted for the bi lateral mastectomy (which she has already done) and hysterectomy to decrease the chances of it coming back in her breasts or ovaries.

To continue Shelley's story properly, I need to back up and discuss her mother's cancer as well. Her mom was diagnosed with Stage Two Triple Negative breast cancer at thirty-two years old. Shelley was eight years old and outside of vague memories of her mom's sequined baseball cap and various casserole dinners from their church and family, it was easy to forget her mom ever battled cancer to begin with. As with Triple Negative breast cancer today, the treatment then was unclear and varied individually but at that time it was routine to do a mastectomy followed by what is still a widely used and potent chemotherapy called Adriamycin, or the "red devil." There has always been a different level of uncertainty with Triple Negative. However, they did not offer any genetic testing at that time or offer a lot of the knowledge as to where or how much of an increased risk that put a family member in should they have it.

Her mom always told her that through her diagnosis and treatment she found that a lot of people distanced themselves from her because they could not come to terms with it and that the unlikeliest of people stayed to fight with her every day. This is most certainly true; however, Shelley found in her case that is largely in part to her battling it. Shelley believes that her mother did not want people to know she was sick, so she covered it up the best she could. Stage 1 initial diagnosis, then mastectomy, then in Lymph Stage 2. For years Shelley and her mom struggled to find a healthy relationship because Shelley was in denial that she was the same person. Walking through pregnancy and birth with her mom was a testament to the strength she had and the apologies she owed. To walk a part of a cancer journey as a mother that she made look so easy has been incredibly inspiring. She has let Shelley "ugly cry in her office more times than I can count and somehow juggles work, grandma, chemo chauffeur, chef, therapist, and God only knows what else to keep us all going, and I don't know if I knew what a real-life hero was before, but I can safely say she is it."

After Shelley's diagnosis, she did not have time to process everything as she vowed to remain positive and "check things off of her list." She said it was stressful with all the testing.

Shelley had to take a leave of absence from her job as a correctional officer to begin treatment. She was told she would begin treatment almost immediately which was the most painful part of the ordeal so far. She had surgery that took eight of lymph nodes. This is extremely hard on your system because your lymph nodes regulate the fluid in your body and keep you healthy. They filtrate your system and liquids, so Shelley started to retain fluid in her arm. She had to see a physical therapist for this.

She quickly started sixteen intense rounds of chemotherapy before facing a double mastectomy (breast removal) in January 2022. I asked Shelley candidly how this affected her...if she felt "less of a woman" or any grief and loss from losing her breasts. She said you "could have taken anything; legs, arms, nose if someone could confirm I didn't have cancer anymore." I thought that was such a beautiful answer. It also shows how you are immediately in "flight or fight."

After her surgery, the doctors saw too many cancerous cells lingering, so they had her immediately begin radiation. She was to be placed on two years of oral chemotherapy after radiation. Her doctors are worried that the cancer may attack her ovaries next, since it is aggressive, so she plans to have a hysterectomy in the near future. Her body will need to be strong enough, and she will need to be able to fight off possible infection. Oral chemotherapy would make that difficult.

Although Shelley did opt out of freezing her eggs, she is not sure if it was a decision made in haste based on the time she had to reflect and think about it. She was given her diagnosis and a surgery date for a port three days later; so, it was more of an 'act now' decision but based on a "fight or flight" to ensure she was around and living for the daughter she does have. She is happy with having Novalee and Mckayla (her niece who is like a second daughter to her). Mckayla has also been a tremendous source of help.

Shelley claims that her physical appearance "is just physical" and her battle scars are beautiful. She plans to have breast reconstruction surgery and would like to have it at the same time as her hysterectomy.

Shelley would also like to discuss her history with mental illness and how it ties in with what she is going through right now in hopes it will reduce the stigma and help others. Shelley was diagnosed with severe clinical depression in eighth grade. She found herself in disbelief for many years as she never understood how or why she felt such despair. She says she had the best family and upbringing one could ask for. Not only did the stigma send her further down the dark path depression already had her on, but it also left her to believe she was a problem, and that people may even be better off if she was not there to bring them down. She is not sure the word "epiphany" can be used to describe her willingness to accept and work on her mental health; but she had to hit rock-bottom and tried to see the world through her niece's eyes before she did anything.

Shelley became open on a social media platform which made her understand the magnitude of people who were struggling along with her. She dove into self-help books such as "Unfuck Yourself." She has found writing positive things about herself daily is vital. She knows she needs to keep herself busy if she is having a difficult day. She leans on her brother for support, so they can dive into their love of racing and other hobbies. Before cancer she had anxiety about "silly things" and after her diagnosis she was initially put on Xanax because of the panic and overwhelming thoughts it brought her. Shelley says it sounds awful to even report that, but she laid awake and sometimes still does, not worrying about herself, but about whether her family or friends know how much she loves them, worrying that Novalee might not know her or that she did not set her up for success. If something were to happen to Shelley, she feels that this can be taken in a tone to which she is giving up, but these are inevitably thoughts that cross her mind when battling something of this significance.

She is on a medication now, citalopram, which is to ease the anxiety and depression, and zolpidem which is a prescribed sleeping medication to assist in shutting the worries out. The mental aspect of fighting cancer and the extent of how much she struggled and continues to struggle with the thoughts and worries is easily the hardest part of all of this. Not losing her hair, not the surgeries, not feeling physically sick. It has been trying to tell herself that she will never "know why" cancer picked her yet obsessing about it anyway, it is worrying about her daughter and her family suffering more than her, it is worrying that she cannot talk to anyone about being scared. She has been making herself reach out to strangers such as her new friend Jena (same cancer, same story) and wondering if she ever felt the same. It is worrying she picked the wrong doctors, and it is worrying that treatment decisions may be the difference in her cancer spreading. Ironically, she uses these worries as an opportunity to remind herself every single day that she has a reason to keep going. She has a daughter, a family, a life. Shelley can admit it is scary but not let it consume her. She can worry but she cannot wait to start living. She describes it as a "twisted reality," but it has allowed her to love a little more, be thankful a little more, and if anything, open the door for her to share a little more and not be ashamed.

Shelley went into menopause and experiences hot flashes. This is because her hormones were "thrown off" during chemotherapy. Shelley experiences neuropathy from her chemotherapy. She cannot feel her fingers and toes. Because of this she has a challenging time walking. She takes Gabapentin to assist with this issue.

Fast forward to a year later and Shelley has completed the sixteen rounds of chemotherapy which were spaced out between a period of six months. She has knocked out her double mastectomy, completed physical therapy, and raised a beautiful one year old baby girl while doing so.

Shelley's fight was not quite over. She has completed twenty-five rounds of radiation. She had extreme fatigue and intense itching with it and stated it felt like a sunburn. Shelley started her oral chemotherapy medication at the beginning of June 2022. This would be used as a preventative measure over the course of two years. The oral chemo are pills that are taken twice a day as a preventative/targeted treatment for triple negative breast cancer patients with a BRCA1 mutation. Unfortunately, Shelley reported that after about forty minutes from taking her first pill, she found her lungs feeling like they were on fire, followed by shortness of breath and an ambulance was called. During the ambulance ride to the hospital, she endured a severe allergic reaction and inflamed lungs. Shelley met with her oncologist mid-June, and they discussed further options. Shelley's oncologist told her to cut her oral chemo dose down to a quarter and she would be supervised at the cancer center for the first week to ensure her body adjusts to it.

During the course of writing Shelley's story, so much has changed. She had been declared in remission when she submitted her story, and we began working together. Unfortunately, the cut down to a fourth of the oral chemotherapy did not work and it landed her in the hospital again. She became extremely ill. With this, in addition to her feeling extreme fatigue and a lump on her neck, she requested bloodwork. Her blood came back "all over the place," especially her liver enzymes and hemoglobin. She was called in to have an emergency CT scan. The results of the scan showed swollen lymph nodes, but no cancer! She is considered in remission at this time, but since she cannot take the oral chemo, she must be on something. She has been seeking out second opinions, including Mayo Clinic.

Shelley will do anything to survive cancer. "I have a "kicking cancers ass journal" to complete and way too much purpose in carrying the title "mom" to my beautiful daughter Novalee." Every battle has become a chapter in a temporary part of her life and despite each battle she will continue to carry the "best version of myself across each finish line."

"I could spend an eternity telling you all the negative things breast cancer does to you, but let's be real here, no one has ever said cancer was or is going to be easy, so instead I choose to continue checking each portion of treatment off a checklist and will continue to use each portion as another excuse to tell you that I am extraordinarily grateful for this thing called life and everyone in it. I have found my purpose to love harder than I ever have. I have been reminded repeatedly that I have strength from within that I never even knew existed and most importantly that no matter what stage, what diagnosis, and what situation, I am always going to be a stronger and better version of myself because of it."

As far as work, her insurance was great, but her disability and insurance was up in May, so she is now figuring out how to get on Medicaid. She is still on a leave of absence from corrections. She was hoping her reconstructive surgeries would be sooner, but that has been delayed until she can find a preventative that works. Shelley is trying to see if she can get Social Security, as she would have to go back for a while to get another leave of absence. Shelley says she would love to go back to being a correctional officer. Unfortunately, she is not mentally or physically ready. She wants to be in a position where she feels safe, because she handles weapons and people. Her coworkers have been great. They check in on her, and her Union President has been making everything understandable and easier for her.

I asked Shelley the following question:

If you had received this cancer diagnosis and not have a child, would you fight differently?

Her answer was this:

"I find this to be a complex question and whether it be wrong or right here is why. I have found myself listening to repetitive attempts to lift my spirits a lot through my journey all in a similar fashion, whether it be friends, family, nurses, and doctors, and I am reminded that when I am saddened by the outcome of another cancer patients' passing or fearful that "their journey/fight is not mine" or that "I am so strong" and to be "thankful I had Nova as my reason" and to be quite honest over the course of time it has infuriated me in the aspect that no one receives a cancer diagnosis and accepts that as their fate. Everyone has a reason but I'm not quite sure it varies the fight we all have or find within, nor the outcome of a disease so uncertain and I say this on behalf of children who may not have their mom anymore because she lost her battle, and only because it makes it sound as though she didn't fight just as hard as the moms who are still here. I do believe that I was blessed with my daughter exactly when I needed her, and I know for certain there were days I opened my eyes to see her reaching for me while I battled my "chemo coma" and for those days I pushed myself harder than I might've without. Yes, she is my peace, my extra blessing and part of what makes my world whole now. But I think to sum it up, the blessing and beauty in all my fight would be the significance I've found in fighting for life period and each blessing I took for granted that goes with it, undoubtedly my family being at the top and with that is the extra strength having Novalee has given me to do so, so that she knows a love no different. I don't disregard my daughter and the purpose she has given me and I can't speak for everyone but I fight to see the sun set another day, I fight on behalf of being a better person, I fight for my niece, my nephew, the smell of freaking rain, shit; I fight for my damn dog too. Do I believe becoming a mom made me stronger as a person despite my diagnosis? Yes, I believe it changed my outlook on life before diagnosis, yes. Do I believe I wouldn't have found my strength or faced this any differently? No. The will to live and the mother/person I fight for leaves my daughter and everyone else an extra opportunity to appreciate the small things and gives them another opportunity to feel the love/fight I have in me for everyone and everything but not a single one shall ever feel as though they weren't enough for me to give it my all. Everyone's fight is my fight now and although differences in treatment separate us, everyone that has fought is fighting, thriving, and surviving and has that strength. Yes, Novalee is an extra reason, but I would not have tackled this any differently."

I loved her answer so much...the way she put it in a journaling format, her mind reckoning and arguing amongst itself, that I decided to include the whole thing.

Shelley obviously has a fear of the unknown, anyone would, but she is equipped with an armor of a support system.

Please pray for Shelley and send good vibes her way as she sees a new Breast Oncologist August 9th.

I am certain Shelley is going to kick cancer's ass.

                                                           Shelley and Novalee

                                                             Jessica Slocum

                                                        Gold Rush Photography

                    Shelley would like to dedicate her story to her daughter, Novalee.

Part VII

Jori, age 29, Hebron, IL

July 12, 2022

"So yeah, it's a fire

It's a goddamn blaze in the dark

And you started it

You started it

So yeah, it's a war

It's the goddamn fight of my life

And you started it

You started it"

-Taylor Swift

'Ivy''

"evermore"

The Fire Did Not Burn Her Spirit

Jori was my first applicant to my Survivor Series 2022. She was also my first selection. I had Jori's photo shoot idea right away...I saw lemons and vintage trucks. But I also saw fire. I saw her lighting a match and staring straight into the camera. Like a big "F You" to her burns. As you know I have been pushing these women outside of their comfort zones, and for Jori to light a match was huge. I am so glad she did it because you can literally see her strength in the photo.

June 8th, 2019 was a day that changed Jori's life. She had a "freak accident," tumbled eight feet down a hill and into a raging bonfire. She is a third degree burn survivor. The irony is that she was at a retirement party for a firefighter. There was a small bonfire, three to four feet wide at the base of a hill. The fire was in a bowl (pit). Jori was standing on a pallet at the top of the hill and went to move. Her sandal ended up catching onto a slit in the pallet and she tripped and tumbled down the hill directly into the bonfire.

The bonfire area had a retaining wall of cinder blocks that was built up around the fire pit. She ended up falling and laying in the worst possible position that she could have. She went face first into the cinder blocks. Her left leg was directly in the open flames and her right leg was on the other side of the retaining wall. For four to five seconds she burned, could not move, and passed out from the pain. To paint this picture, Jori was wearing a long-sleeved top and shorts. She had decided on this outfit a half hour prior to the accident and was between this and denim jeans and a tank top. Her shirt was damaged in one spot and surprisingly her shorts were not damaged. She stated had she chosen the other outfit, the burns would not have been half as bad. According to professionals, denim smolders and will protect from these types of burns.

Jori does not remember who pulled her out of the bonfire, a police officer, or a firefighter. The next thing she remembers was being walked to the house between the two of them, her one arm over each. Once at the house, she blacked out again. When she "came to" her friends were driving her to McHenry Hospital. At the McHenry Emergency Room (ER), she was offered Fentanyl for the pain and refused because of losing friends in the past to the drug. She accepted Norco instead.

McHenry was not equipped to treat her there, so they sent her to Rockford where they have a Burn Unit and Trauma Intensive Care Unit (ICU). Jori looked at her leg and felt no pain. When you get third degree burns, they burn your nerve endings. She told her mother she was lucky to even have a leg because she could not feel it. She describes being in shock at this point. She knows that she could not feel the pain because her nerve endings were numb, and she had an adrenaline rush. No one knew the extent of her burns until she was evaluated at Rockford. Jori needed surgery, a skin graft, to save her left leg. Without this surgery, she was at risk for infection, amputation, and sepsis.

They had to wait until four days after the accident for a certain blood test to come back and for the burn specialist surgeon. Her surgery was four hours long. During this surgery they took six strips of skin from her right leg (shin and thigh) to graft onto her left leg. This was in hopes to stop infection and regenerate the skin to heal on her left leg. There was also a 60 percent chance that her left leg would reject the skin graft. Luckily, it did not.

Jori spent three and a half weeks healing in the Burn Trauma ICU. She had to relearn how to walk and did not walk for 6 days post operation. This was because of all the bracing on her legs and the possibility gravity could alter the adhesion of the skin to her left leg. During this time Jori was on intravenous (IV) antibiotics, oral antibiotics, pain medications, and a massive regiment of vitamins to promote healing. She was not getting enough sunlight due to being hospitalized. The vitamins were a vital part of getting everything working again. Jori was on protein three times daily to promote healing. Without the graft surgery, her skin would not have healed on its own and would not have regenerated.

Here are the classifications of burns courtesy of Stanford Children's Hospital, so that you can understand the severity of Jori's injury. She was diagnosed with Third Degree Burns.

"Burns are classified as first-, second-, third-degree, or fourth degree depending on how deeply and severely they penetrate the skin's surface.

• First-degree (superficial) burns. First-degree burns affect only the outer layer of skin, the epidermis. The burn site is red, painful, dry, and with no blisters. Mild sunburn is an example. Long-term tissue damage is rare and often consists of an increase or decrease in the skin color.
• Second-degree (partial thickness) burns. Second-degree burns involve the epidermis and part of the lower layer of skin, the dermis. The burn site looks red, blistered, and may be swollen and painful.
• Third-degree (full thickness) burns. Third-degree burns destroy the epidermis and dermis. They may go into the innermost layer of skin, the subcutaneous tissue. The burn site may look white or blackened and charred.
• Fourth-degree burns. Fourth-degree burns go through both layers of the skin and underlying tissue as well as deeper tissue, possibly involving muscle and bone. There is no feeling in the area since the nerve endings are destroyed."

Stanford Children's Hospital

Jori made friends in the burn unit. She met someone else who had a bonfire accident like hers, but they only sustained first degree burns due to wearing denim jeans. Relearning how to walk was a challenge for Jori. As one could imagine, she was in horrific pain. She describes her right leg hurting even worse than her left. She started this journey by sitting up, then motioning to get off the bed, and then eventually standing. This took two days. Next, she had to have two nurses and a walker. They started by walking to the door of her room and turning back to the bed (about twelve feet). She describes this as extremely exhausting. She froze once and could not turn around. They needed to get her a wheelchair just to get back to her bed. She had a lot of exercises she had to do. She was not progressing as quickly as her doctor wanted, so they took out her catheter (catheters are sometimes necessary for people, who for a variety of reasons, cannot empty their bladder in the usual way, i.e., passing urine into a toilet or urinal). So now, Jori was forced to get out of bed and walk to the bathroom.

A week after surgery, Jori needed a blood transfusion because her hemoglobin dropped below 7.0 per 100mL of blood (A healthy individual human has 12 to 20 grams of hemoglobin in every 100mL of blood). Jori stayed in the ICU until she left the hospital because of fear of infection due to the nature of her injury. She claims her mother was her biggest support throughout this journey and has kept her from "going to dark places." Her sister visited her every three days and she had three separate friends who came up to the hospital to be with her and her mother. They were on a rotating schedule. Jori also said her aunt and uncle were a very helpful support to her as well. They were able to bring her Starbucks, and even brought her garlic salt so that the hospital food would taste better.

The staff in Rockford did tell her that she was one of the most positive burn unit patients that ever came through. She had to stay longer because one part of her leg was not healing as fast as they wanted. This made her mad and she stayed another week but rolled with the punches.

Jori needed to do physical therapy for a month to bend her foot for it to work properly and train new skin how to stretch. She admits she was babying it.

I asked Jori if she has gotten any nerve endings working again in her leg. She states that she has 90 percent of feeling back, but that took a full year. She says one of the strips on her left leg is still not working (no feeling). Six months after her accident she met her now boyfriend Nick. He has been an awesome support, has never judged the look of her legs, and is genuinely curious and interested in the medical aspect of her injury. She is grateful for him and his support and love.

Jori starts to get anxiety around warmer weather when the seasons change. She still claims to get a lot of scoffs and comments from passersby such as "ew, gross" and "why doesn't she wear pants instead of shorts." She tries to brush these comments off and has gotten more comfortable with wearing shorts and dresses over the years. She recalls one incident at Art in the Park in McHenry just one month after surgery. A mother and someone else said something nasty. The child that was with them asked her mom "why does she look like that?" Jori told the little girl that she was in an accident and got burned. The little girl replied "wow, that's cool!" Sometimes children are more accepting than adults and Jori hopes that that child's mother learned a lesson from her own daughter that day.

Jori does not have fear of flame now, but if someone is standing too close to a bonfire or open flame, she will get a wave of anxiety and step back herself. She states no other triggers from the trauma.

She claims this injury has wreaked havoc on her self-esteem. Coming up on three years since her tragedy makes her feel good that she is recovering but also reminds her that she will never look "normal" again. She says she is still struggling to come to terms with that. I asked her exactly what she meant by this. "Winter I am fine, but once summer comes, I find myself going back to comparing myself to people who do not have burns on their legs and can wear shorts and do not have scars.

Personally, I think her scars are absolutely beautiful.

Without the support from her family, boyfriend, and best friends she does not know where she would be today. She feels her story is small to a lot of people, but she always feels it is worth sharing. Jori states she should start to embrace rather than hide. When Jori first sent me her pictures of her legs, I found them to be stunning. I immediately knew what aesthetic I wanted to go with. Something fun, vintage, and light and something badass...like her.

Jori does not want to let the fire burn her spirit. After meeting her and working with her...the fire in her soul is much greater than the burns on her legs.

Jori in the Burn Trauma ICU

Jori after her burns started healing into scars

Jessica Slocum

Gold Rush Photography

Dedicated to Jori's mother Shannon.

Part VI

Christine, age 31, Woodstock, IL

June 30, 2022

"So when it feels like all of this pain is never

gonna end,

Brought to my knees by all of these things I

don't understand, don't understand.

I will let the weight of my fear fall like sand,

Out of my hands and into Yours! Out of my

hands and into Yours!"

-Jeremy Camp

"Out of My Hands"

'The Story's Not Over'

The Storm's Over, Mom

Christine has had to overcome numerous serious health scares by the age of thirty-one. Her most recent struggle being her pregnancy with her son, Barrett Milhouse. Here is her story.

It is important to understand that Christine had a very high-risk pregnancy to begin with. Doctors were unsure if she would even be able to get pregnant at all - now here she is, blessed with two beautiful children.

Christine has hydrocephalus, a rare brain disease where there is a build-up of cerebrospinal fluid within the ventricles of the brain. She also has pseudo-tumor cerebri, where she exhibits every symptom of a brain tumor (increased pressure in her skull, permanent loss of peripheral vision, chronic migraines, seizures, and hearing loss) but no tumor is actually present to remove. To treat both diseases, she has a ventriculo-peritoneal (VP) shunt, which is a long "tube" or catheter, that runs from the center of her brain (ventricle,) all the way down to her pelvis, so that the pressure is being relieved from her brain at all times to prevent her from having a stroke. She was diagnosed just a few days after she turned eighteen-years-old, after having numerous seizures and extensive testing. Christine had her first of fifty-two surgeries on Christmas Eve 2008. She has undergone nine brain surgeries and forty-eight spinal taps since then.

She also had a neuro-spinal cord stimulator placed, where there were metal leads placed on her spine. There is also a battery in her hip/abdomen, and between the two, they give off vibrations to her abdomen to relieve the severe pain from a botched surgery she had in 2013 that was performed to revise her VP shunt. She also has a PowerPort in her chest for vein access, since she has "no veins left" from having so many IV's during the past several years. She has had IV's in her neck, thumbs, and even her big toes.

Due to her complicated medical history, Christine had to be monitored closely by Maternal-Fetal-Medicine (MFM) Specialists, nearly an hour and a half away from her house, which is also where she delivered her son, in addition to the regular monthly appointments. She had to be seen twice a week for the last four weeks of her pregnancy amid winter in Chicago!

This is the most vulnerable thing Christine has ever shared. In September, when Christine was fifteen weeks pregnant with her second child, she and her fiancé Mike held a gender reveal party. They were ecstatic to find out they were having a baby BOY! They have been together for nearly nine years and already had a 5-year-old daughter, McKenzie.

Little did Christine know, just two days after the reveal, she would start having symptoms of the pregnancy disease that would debilitate her for the next six months. At fifteen weeks pregnant, Christine had bloodwork come back that indicated that her son was at "an elevated risk for neural-tube defects." The biggest concern at that point was anencephaly (an underdeveloped brain) and/or spina-bifida (an underdeveloped spinal cord.) She went for an ultrasound at MFM just two days later, where things "looked optimistic," so she felt extremely thankful.

It was a Monday morning and Christine got sick for the first time. There was no warning...she did not feel nauseous at first, her stomach did not turn yet...it just...happened. From her first heave (vomiting episode), she INSTANTLY KNEW that she was in trouble; but what she did NOT know, was just how FAST her life was about to change. She started averaging thirty vomiting episodes per day, heaving over one-hundred times a day. After being in the Emergency Room (ER) numerous times already for intravenous (IV) nausea medications and fluids, she KNEW the diagnosis was coming. After she "lost a substantial amount of weight" and the medical personnel saw "significant metabolic changes," she was diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG), and she claims it was ALL downhill from there.

For those who do not know, HG is defined as "a debilitating and potentially life-threatening pregnancy disease that may cause weight loss, malnutrition, and dehydration due to severe nausea and/or vomiting with potentially adverse consequences for the mom-to-be and the newborn(s) with a fetal loss rate of 34%." This disease only happens in one-to-two percent of all pregnancies. "Rare" is an understatement. The cause is unknown, but it is believed to be due to an excess of the hormones GDF15 and IGFBP7 found in the placenta. HG typically goes away by week fourteen of pregnancy. Doctors were confused when Christine presented with symptoms at fifteen weeks of pregnancy. It is very rare (though not unheard of) for hyperemesis gravidarum to last the entire pregnancy. Well, hers lasted until the day her son was born.

Until now, Christine did not know that HG and cachexia, also known as "wasting syndrome" are biologically related and is actually the cause of death in 20% of cancer patients. Cachexia is "a general state of ill-health involving marked weight loss and muscle loss which comes along with HG or other diseases." Due to the severity of her nausea and vomiting, she was prescribed a total of ten antiemetics (anti-nausea medications), none of which controlled her nausea or vomiting.

From sixteen-weeks-pregnant until she delivered her baby boy at thirty-seven-weeks, she went to the hospital two-to-four times per week strictly for IV fluids and IV medications through her chest port. The port in her chest was accessed (had a needle in it) for over twenty weeks straight, with the needle being changed every seven days. They ranged anywhere from one to six bags at a time, and it took an average of 1.5 hours each time; not including travel time. The fluids literally kept her alive - they had vitamins, minerals, and glucose in them that gave her energy (for the short term) all while nourishing her unborn son...this did not include the routine trips to MFM for ultrasounds, non-stress tests, and regular visits.

Christine had three brain computerized tomography (CT) scans and three chest x-rays during her pregnancy. The CT scans were to check that her shunt was functioning because if not, it can be life-threatening. The x-rays were to check to see if she developed more blood clots in her lungs due to the symptoms/pain she was having, but it turned out to be that her shunt was mangled around her diaphragm and liver, causing extreme pain that mimicked pulmonary embolisms, which she does have a history of. Due to this, Christine was on blood thinning injections during her entire pregnancy for the safety of herself and her son.

Throughout this pregnancy, Christine's high-risk specialists prepared her for the worst, while she was optimistic and prayed for the best. She had a few more hurdles this pregnancy, which included:

• having a "threatened miscarriage" at six weeks, where she thankfully got to the hospital for treatment in time.

• her son had an enlarged kidney in-utero which he eventually grew into after a few weeks.

• Christine was on two blood thinners during this pregnancy because she has a history of multiple pulmonary embolisms (blood clots in her lungs), so she needed to be proactive in preventing those from occurring again.

• she was diagnosed with a "moderate case" of COVID-19 at thirty-two weeks pregnant and was luckily asymptomatic the entire time.

• due to her multiple illnesses, her body and kidneys started to shut down at one point.

• Christine was put on partial bed rest at twenty-six weeks due to extreme pain from her shunt being displaced from her pelvis and being mangled around her diaphragm and liver.

• during this time, her son was in distress, and they talked about inducing her, but she was able to avoid it.

• Christine was diagnosed with anemia (lacking enough healthy red blood cells to carry adequate oxygen to the body's tissues) which required multiple, five IV iron infusions through her chest port...it also made her very tired and weak.

• she was severely malnourished, was chronically dehydrated and she suffered muscle atrophy (losing a lot of muscle). Due to the change of pressure in her abdomen from twenty-eight weeks on, her shunt could not drain as it should, which lead to an increase in headaches. She had numerous visits and inpatient stays to Labor and Delivery, along with dozens of ER trips throughout her pregnancy.

• Christine was diagnosed with cholestasis (ICP) which is "an exceedingly rare and dangerous pregnancy-related liver condition that can lead to still-birth after thirty-seven weeks gestation." It causes EXTREME itching and burning sensations without a rash present.

• Barrett had an Intrauterine Growth Restriction (IUGR) diagnosis, where the baby's stomach was measuring at just the fifth percentile. The IUGR diagnosis is thought to be a direct affect from the lack of nutrients and the hyperemesis gravidarum.

In the "HG Community" (an online support group for women who suffer from this disease), there is something called a "safe food," which is a term for food pregnant woman CAN actually eat without vomiting. This "safe food" can change daily, it could be the same "safe food" during the course of the HG journey, or there can be no "safe food" at all. The only "safe food" Christine consistently could stomach was Arby's sauce. There would be times she would sit and eat ten packets at a time, straight from the packaging. Another one she had some days was warm Coca-Cola (it HAD to be warm and in 12oz bottles), and the most strange "safe food" she had was raw pancake batter...yes, the only thing she could stomach at one point in her pregnancy was raw pancake batter (don't worry, just the kind you just add water to).

But there were many, many days that she could not stomach a single thing...not a bite of anything, not a sip of anything...everything that went down, immediately came right back up. If it was not immediate, it was within minutes. Water was her BIGGEST aversion; she did not have a sip of water from fifteen weeks pregnant until her son was fifteen weeks old. That is forty ENTIRE weeks without a sip of water, where again, she is very thankful for the IV fluids during pregnancy. Water was the only lasting aversion after delivery.

Mentally, Christine was not okay. She states that no matter how strong she seemed, she did not know how to express how she really felt. "There was not enough therapy in the world to give me the strength and comfort I needed. Please check on your pregnant friends, ALWAYS." Telling her story to others made it feel so raw for Christine...she and her son truly feel so blessed to be alive.

Barrett Milhouse was born at thirty-seven weeks gestation on February 9th, 2022, at 12:21am. He was 6lbs 3oz and 18.5in long, joining his big sister McKenzie. Christine was blessed with a flawless labor and delivery despite her pregnancy challenges! She was induced due to an increased risk of still-birth and the amount of pain she was in on a daily basis. She was in labor for just two hours and ten minutes and her son was born in four pushes with his daddy (Mike), her number one support by her side. She had an epidural, but it did not work. She was still able to move around and feel everything (typically you cannot because you are numb from the waist down.) The epidural did not work because the metal leads on her spine prevented the medicine/epidural from moving up her spine like it was supposed to. She never felt a single contraction and never felt any pain, even though the epidural failed. Aside from poor-weight-gain and a little jaundice, Barrett could not have been healthier. Their worry of spina bifida or anencephaly were diminished. Barrett's blood sugar and body temperature held stable. He nursed like a champion. They were truly blessed.

He truly was the puzzle piece to their family that they did not know they were missing - their daily prayers have finally been ANSWERED!

By 3am Christine found herself STARVING, but all the hospital had to offer were crackers. She thinks she ate about ten packages and was ecstatic when 6am rolled around and it was time to order breakfast. Christine thinks "she ordered one of everything," and of course when her tray got to her room, she took it slow and only ate a few bites - oatmeal and 2% milk were her preference. She also had four chicken caesar salads before being discharged home the next day.

Unfortunately, at six-weeks-old, Barrett had to be admitted to the PICU for two days due to an upper respiratory infection. He was diagnosed with a condition called tracheomalacia and laryngomalacia, where his trachea (the airway that leads from the larynx to the bronchi (windpipe) collapses occasionally when he breathes from it being underdeveloped, and his larynx (voice box) is underdeveloped as well. Due to this, it takes his body about ten times longer/harder to fight off even the smallest of infections. His pediatrician and ear, nose, throat doctor (ENT specialist) believe he should "grow into it" by the time he is one-year-old. Once his oxygen saturation level was stable (stayed over 90%) he was cleared to go home, where he remained congested for another five weeks, but eventually recovered.

While in the PICU, the doctors decided to do an ultrasound of Barrett's brain due to Christine's medical history. What they found surprised them all, including the doctors who have never heard of this in someone so young. They discovered "lesions" on both sides of Barrett's brain, but the neurologist was hopeful that they were "just" calcium deposits. The next day, "Baby Bear" had a repeat ultrasound to verify the findings, and THE LESIONS WERE GONE!! With tears in their eyes, Mike and Christine were both thrilled and confused at the same time. Barrett soon after had an EEG (electroencephalogram) to check for seizure activity, which came back negative. Shortly after that, a THIRD brain ultrasound was completed...there was no evidence of hydrocephalus, pseudo-tumor cerebri, or lesions (as previously noted). Barrett does NOT have the same brain diseases that Christine does, and her family could not be more relieved, and give credit to these miracles to God.

Barrett was almost deemed Failure-to-Thrive because he did not hit birth weight by six-weeks old, so Mike and Christine made the decision to give Barrett donor breastmilk. Barrett was quick to take on the donor milk, and slowly gained weight. He still nurses on-demand to this day and although does not get much from mom (based on weighted feeds) ... it is still worth it to Christine for the bond they share during those special moments. Last they checked, he was thirteen pounds, ten ounces and thriving!

Christine could not be more thankful for her wonderful fiancé, Mike, and her daughter, McKenzie, who were her number one support systems during her entire pregnancy. They did nothing but encourage and support her and try to uplift her when she felt her weakest. They were understanding when Christine could not go into a restaurant because of the smell, or when she had to change the channel on the television because they were talking about food. They brought Christine her emesis basin when she was too weak to get up, and they made sure the bathroom was always empty/available. What makes Christine emotional to this day is the drawing that McKenzie once made her that reads, "I don't like seeing you like this" with a sad-crying face on it.

"Mike is my person. He is my soul mate and my better half. He is perfect for me and going through this season together made me realize that he is even MORE amazing because he turned into "Mr. Mom" throughout all of this. He brought McKenzie to all her activities, cooked all her meals, took care of all the household chores, and did everything I usually did. I've always said, 'if I had one wish for the world it would be that everybody gets to experience a love like ours' and he proved exactly why I would wish for that."

Christine's mom, Mary, was another great support for her. She would call Christine every morning on her way into work to check in and see how she was feeling. She was constantly offering to help in any way she could, but just knowing that she was "there" was enough to comfort Christine during the darkest time of her life. She is forever thankful to have her mom there as she still struggles with daily health challenges, her best friend for the support and comfort she needed during that time in her life.

Christine is now four-and-a-half-months postpartum and has been officially cleared from MFM's care for some time now. As much as Mike and Christine would love to have another baby, MFM and Christine's other doctors all agree that "she cannot risk her life again - that she may not be as lucky next time," and she wholeheartedly agrees. She is excited to continue this journey of life as a family of four, as she uses this experience with HG to help educate others and give them HOPE in the process.

It has been nineteen-weeks that "Baby Bear" has been earth-side and Christine is still trying to gain knowledge from the HER (Hyperemesis Education and Research Foundation) website as to why she is continuing to gain weight. Christine feels defeated and confused - although she was ten pounds below pre-pregnancy weight when she delivered Barrett, she is now thirty pounds heavier, and continuing to steadily gain. Through research, she found that "for every month of HG she had, it takes two months to recover." At this rate, it will take 12 months to even START to plateau. What's essentially happening, is her body is AFRAID of going into starvation mode again, which is what happened for six months straight, so it is holding onto every calorie she consumes. She understands that her metabolism will NEVER be the same again, and it is a hard concept for her to grasp.

Unfortunately, Christine is struggling mentally now, worse than ever before. She already has a history of mental health illness, which puts her at a higher risk for postpartum mental illness, but this is much more intense than she ever imagined. She was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) from the hyperemesis gravidarum, Postpartum Depression (PPD), Postpartum Anxiety (PPA), and Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). Thankfully, Christine had been in close contact with her psychiatrist since early on postpartum, but now it is just a matter of finding the correct dosage of medication to help her symptoms. In addition, she has been in weekly therapy sessions to help manage her symptoms and find coping skills.

Christine also attends physical therapy twice a week to try and regain some of the muscle that was lost. She tried doing postpartum workouts at home once she got clearance, but she always ended up in too much pain within the first few minutes - pain from her shunt moving around, pain from her battery site, her back, etc. Christine's doctor suggested that she needed professional guidance, and she agreed. She is working vigorously with a physical therapist, Mark, and she has come a long way already. She is focusing on "isometric exercises" where she uses her muscles, without bending or twisting her core, which was the root of her pain. She has a long way to go, but she is optimistic about the future. She is dealing with symptoms of high blood pressure, which she has never had in her life, due to the weight gain. The hyperemesis left receding gum-lines on her teeth which cannot be reversed and is currently waiting on lab work to check her blood levels.

All-in-all, Christine is beyond blessed to be alive. She leaned on her faith in God to get her through the toughest time of her life - she is so thankful that the physical storm is over, but the mental storm is going to be an ongoing battle for some time. With the support of her mom, Mike, her best friend Sam, her sister Nicole, her children McKenzie and Barrett, and her faith in God, nothing is impossible. She will continue to DREAM, FIGHT, BELIEVE (the slogan she came up with when she first got sick) and she will persevere. 

                           Christine eating Arby's sauce packets, one of her "safe foods."

                           Christine in the hospital getting her IV medications and fluids.

Christine barely showing at 36 weeks pregnant, just 1 week before delivering her baby boy.

                      Christine feeling awful and in so much pain, right before labor began.

Christine during labor - the one time in over 6 months that she forced herself to do her hair & makeup to feel pretty for labor.

                           Christine and Mike just a few hours after Barrett was born.

                      The new family of four! Mike, Christine, McKenzie and Barrett. Photo and                                  Editing: Jessica Slocum, Gold Rush Photography

Jessica Slocum, BS

Gold Rush Photography

Christine would like to dedicate her story to her family: her amazing fiancé, Mike, who was there for her in more ways than she could have imagined.... her daughter, McKenzie, who watched her suffer daily for nearly seven months. Also, her mother, who was there for her every day as well. She would also like to dedicate this to her son, Barrett, who would not be here today if it were not for her pregnancy that ended in success. She is so grateful for each, and every person named. 

Part V

Kylie, age 24, Crystal Lake, IL

June 21, 2022

"Like Daylight

It's golden like daylight

You've gotta step into the daylight

And let it go

Just let it go"

-Taylor Swift

'Daylight'

"Lover"

At the Heart of it All

Kylie always knew she wanted to be a mom. She loved playing with baby dolls, making families on "Sims," and dreaming up future baby names. She loved playing with babies and little kids, and always looked forward to entering that chapter in her life one day. A lot happened leading up to Kylie having her little miracle daughter, Lily Rayne.

Loss was not something new to Kylie. On May 16, 2010, when she was just twelve years old, her Aunt Ani passed away after a prolonged battle with cancer. She was like a second mother to her, and Ani believed in every one of her dreams. Ani always made an effort to spend time with Kylie and support her. Because of her cancer she could never have children of her own, but Kylie remembered Ani telling her that if she could have had a girl, she would have named her "Rayne." Kylie knew one day she would use that name if she had a daughter as a way of honoring her. Losing Ani broke a part of her, but with Kylie being so young, even though she knew she was gone forever, she did not fully realize how long forever would feel.

Kylie's Aunt Stephanie and her mother Carissa both suffered from bipolar disorder (also known as manic-depressive illness). Bipolar is a serious mental illness characterized by extreme mood swings. They can include extreme excitement episodes or extreme depressive feelings. Mental Illness, as well as the disease of substance abuse can run in families through generations and can also be inherited. This was the case within Kylie's family. Stephanie and Carissa grew up with a father (Harrison) who had a substance use disorder, alcoholism, and he would often turn aggressive and violent with the girls and Kylie's grandmother Patsy. Kylie never met Harrison, as he passed away from lung cancer when Carissa was pregnant with Kylie's older brother Dustin. Kylie believes that their childhood really took a toll on them and that her mother never really recovered from that trauma.

Carissa, already having been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and anxiety fell into a deep depression after her sister Ani died. She turned to alcohol to cope. She began to repeat the cycle of abuse within her own family, sometimes becoming verbally and physically abusive. She would fight with Kylie's father, and he ended up moving out before Kylie started high school. It was not that they did not love each other, they just could not figure out how to live peacefully. It is important to note that this is how she grew up, and this environmental factor, coupled with her mental illness and substance abuse disorder did not make her a bad person. Just someone who needed help and did not receive it.

Kylie also makes it very clear that her mother was wonderful when sober. She states that she always wanted to give her the things she never had. She would make sure her birthdays were always amazing and was the number one person who had her back.

When Kylie and Dustin were younger, he would let her play with his toys and show her his games. He was also an outstanding guitar player. He was eight years older than her, so at some point she says she just turned into the annoying little sister. Dustin was Kylie's half-brother (different fathers).

Kylie says middle school was particularly hard for her. Aside from her home life starting to regress, she did not have many friends in school, and she would fake asthma attacks to go to the school nurse. She took a nebulizer treatment at lunch, so she did not have to sit alone at the lunch table. At this point in time, Kylie began to struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts. A shining light throughout her middle school experience was her father. When he would get home from work, they would watch shows and play video games together. Visiting her grandparents' house and them making such an effort with her helped.

Kylie and Dustin grew apart. Dustin began to suffer severe depression and anxiety, and medications did not help him. For five years, Dustin did not see or speak to his family on his mother's side.

Unfortunately, Kylie's issues continued through high school. Her home life grew much worse, and Kylie began to self-harm as well as develop an eating disorder. Thankfully, she was able to move in with her grandparents after she graduated and began her self-love, self-care journey. She was glad to get out of a toxic environment, even though she loved her mother. She began to heal from her childhood. Kylie's grandmother Patsy had found Tom after she and Harrison split, and Kylie saw him as a grandfather her whole life. Kylie started to love herself again, and one by one, her self-harm tendencies, suicidal thoughts, and depression eased. Kylie admits she still struggles occasionally with her eating disorder, but her husband Lucas is a huge support for her. Kylie also wanted the cycle of self-destruction to end with her.

In 2018, Kylie's Aunt Stephanie passed away from COPD complications, leaving her mother to be the last of her siblings.

June of 2019 started what was the worst year of Kylie's life. On June 8, 2019, her cousin Samantha died shortly after suffering through throat cancer. She was only thirty-one. Her life was cut short and filled with so much pain in her last few years. Six months later, on December 3, 2019, her grandfather Tom passed away. He was one of the biggest supporters in Kylie's life and had a profound sense of humor, something her family really misses. In between those two losses, Kylie had her wedding and married the man of her dreams, Lucas. She is incredibly grateful that she ended up going through with her wedding because it turned out to be a beautiful blessing in an otherwise terrible year. Kylie knew after suffering three losses in two years that she wanted to bring new life into her family...something joyful.

In January 2020, Lucas and Kylie decided to try for a baby, and miraculously on January 19, she found out she was pregnant. Her mother Carissa, after her last remaining sister and her niece Samantha had passed away, grew even more depressed. Her health significantly declined. Carissa's doctor informed her that her liver was starting to fail due to years of alcohol abuse, so Carissa got sober at the end of January that year. For a while, Kylie thought things would get better, and the news of the new baby helped. After about a month, Carissa began drinking again. On May 7, 2020, in the middle of Kylie's first pregnancy, her mother Carissa suddenly passed away in her sleep. It was later discovered that Carissa had undiagnosed heart problems that led to heart failure. Out of all the losses in her life, this one hit her the hardest.

She remembers being in her house after she was taken away, just falling to the floor sobbing, and because of Covid-19 she had not seen her in person for a couple of months. She never even saw her baby bump. Kylie remembers that morning was so beautiful outside. She remembers thinking; how can it be such a beautiful day out, when something so terrible has happened? This struck a chord with me, as I lost my father at age 15, he too in his sleep. It was a gorgeous day and I remember thinking how people could go on living, how the world could keep on turning when I was going through the most traumatic event of my life?

Kylie imagined Carissa at peace, and finally reunited with her sisters and the rest of their family. She was sad she never got to tell her the name they picked was "Lily," as she knew her mom loved that name. In fact, Carissa almost named Kylie "Lily"! Still, the crushing loss affected her daily.

With all the losses Kylie had suffered thus far, you would not imagine it could get worse...but it did.

Before Kylie could even process and recover from the loss of her mother, her older brother Dustin died suddenly six weeks later. He and Kylie had recently began building a relationship again, as he had started seeing the family again.

Some details about Dustin's death are unclear, but he was taken to the ER at 4am by his father and grandparents because he woke up not feeling well. He arrived at the ER alive. He took supplements, diet pills that he obtained overseas because he also struggled with body image as well (he was never overweight). He did not do drugs (other than prescribed medication and supplements). The ER doctors were unable to stop him from dying...apparently there was an ingredient in the supplement that acted as a poison in high doses. He ended up going into heart failure. It is unclear if his death was intentional or not, and it is unclear how many of the supplements he may have taken. Losing his mother could have sent his depression over the edge. He was only thirty years old. Kylie was devastated and heartbroken over the life that he would never get to have. She cried more in those few months than she had in her entire life, and she remembers being worried for her unborn baby girl.

Kylie had to get a special ultrasound done because her midwife noticed an echogenic intracardiac focus, which is a bright spot on the baby's heart. Lucas and Kylie knew they were having a girl, and named her Lily Rayne. She found this out three days before her mom passed away, and she remembers being terrified something was wrong with Lily's heart. She did learn it does not affect the function of the heart, but now she wonders if it did.

The rest of her pregnancy (physically) went well for Kylie. Lily was due on September 27, 2020, and on September 28 she went in for her 40-week checkup. Kylie was hooked up to the non-stress test, and the nurses were acting confused. After readjusting a couple times, they let her know that the heartbeat sounded faster than their machine was picking up, and that they were going to have her go to the hospital to use their machine since theirs may not be working right. They handled the situation amazing, because Kylie did not suspect anything and stayed calm, when she is sure they knew something was wrong. She went to the hospital and was hooked up to their machine. The same issue happened, and the OBG-YN at the hospital told her that she would be having her baby that day. That is when Kylie started to panic.

Her OBG-YN told Kylie they had to break her waters and put a monitor on her unborn child's head (she later learned the monitor is a little corkscrew that goes in the baby's scalp). Almost immediately after applying the monitor, they said they needed to get her baby out NOW, which she knew meant a cesarean section.

Kylie had planned for a drug-free, natural birth, so she was terrified. But she learned that while a normal heart rate would be around 130-150, Lily's was stuck at 270+ beats per minute (bpm), and the longer she was stuck with that heart rate, the weaker her heart would get. All at once, she had her IV put in, the catheter put in, her Covid-19 test, and signed a slew of paperwork. Her hand was shaking so badly from fear, she remembers her signature being just a squiggly line. Kylie cannot remember how she got her gown on, and parts of the birth she has no memory of. She does remember being wheeled to the operating room, and genuinely believing she was going to die. She does not think her mind could let her think something bad would happen to Lily. Sometimes our brains file things away when we go through traumatic things. Kylie held on to the OBG-YN who would be delivering her baby (someone she had never met as her Midwife did not do C-sections, and the OBG-YN at her office was out of town) while the anesthesiologist was trying to give Kylie her spinal injection and kept missing his mark.

Finally, she was laid on the table and given oxygen. She kept asking for her husband, who was finally able to come in the room and hold her hand. Once she was numb, they began the surgery. Kylie remembers there being a dozen nurses in the room. It felt like they were lightly pushing on her stomach, and then after one big push, she heard Lilys' first cry. She remembers her fear starting to fade after that.

Kylie did not see Lily in person until two and a half hours after she was born. Lucas was able to see Lily an hour after she was born, and he called Kylie on face time so she could see her. Kylie did not know this until later, but to get her heart rate down, Lily was given four doses of Adenosine through an IV (a drug meant to bring your heart rate to a normal rhythm). Thankfully, the fourth dose was successful, otherwise they told the first-time parents they would have had to start shocking her. Kylie remembers when she got to hold her, it was truly her happiest moment ever. Lily's skin was so soft and seeing her face for the first time was so surreal. She was absolutely perfect.

Kylie was able to hold her for about five minutes before she was told that Lily needed to be transferred an hour away to Javon Bea hospital in Rockford, IL (a hospital that had a cardiologist). Lucas went to stay with Lily, while Kylie's grandmother Patsy stayed with her during the day.

Patsy is her biggest supporter and has been a mother figure to Kylie. She is so grateful for her and everything she has helped her through, and truthfully, if there is any survivor, Kylie states it is her. Losing all her children, the love of her life, two of her grandchildren, all her siblings and her parents. She is the strongest person Kylie knows.

For Kylie, C-section recovery was rough. Luckily while laying down, her pain was virtually nonexistent, but walking was brutal. The hardest part was not being able to be with her baby. Thankfully, the hospital had a live stream so she could tune in to see how Lily was doing. She also had jaundice, so she was under the blue light.

After two days Kylie was able to be with her. Lily seemed to be issue free with her heart, and after one more night in the hospital, they took her home. They enjoyed the newborn days and feeling a sense of normalcy. Then, when Lily was exactly two weeks old, she was struggling to fall asleep. They put on her Owlet Smart Sock (something Kylie recommends every parent invest in) and it alerted them that Lily's heart rate was at 300 bpm!

Lucas and Kylie rushed Lily to their local emergency room (ER). They learned Lily had what was called Supraventricular tachycardia (SVT). They were able to diagnose her with this after she took an electrocardiogram (EKG). SVT is as an irregularly fast or erratic heartbeat (arrhythmia) that affects the heart's upper chambers (Mayo Clinic). SVT is also called paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia (Mayo Clinic). Lily was given adenosine which thankfully brought her heart to a normal rate again. Nurses from Javon Bea came to transfer Lily once again. They were not allowed in the ambulance, so they drove separately.

When they reached the other hospital and got settled in, the cardiologist came in, and based on her EKG was able to give Lily the diagnosis of Wolff-Parkinson White Syndrome, a rare syndrome in which an extra electrical pathway in the heart causes a rapid heartbeat. They were told there is hope for a cure when she is older, when her heart is big enough, she can receive a catheter ablation in the hopes to burn or freeze the extra pathway, but in the meantime, her symptoms will need medication. They said most need one medication, few need two, and very rarely three. He was very confident the first medication would help (propranolol), but after six days of them staying in that hospital, with very poor communication that left Lucas and Kylie confused with what Lily's dosages were, them adding a second medication, digoxin, on the last day that was not helping either, they decided to have her transferred to Luries Children's Hospital in Chicago.

They immediately removed digoxin and adjusted her propranolol dosage. What Kylie loved about Luries was that everyday Lily's team had a meeting in their room, kept her very informed and educated, and had a set plan daily of what to do. It took an additional twelve days before the right medication combination was found, and Lily did end up needing to be on three medications (Propranolol, Amiodarone and Flecainide). Lucas and Kylie had to memorize the dosages and learn to properly draw up the correct amount (Amiodarone and Flecainide are especially strong medications). Once they got that down and Lily was no longer going into SVT, they were finally able to go back home after a total of eighteen days between both hospitals.

Kylie is so grateful that Lily has not gone back into SVT. She is almost two years old and has been weaned off Amiodarone and Flecainide. Kylie is grateful that her condition, though at first was scary and uncertain as it is rare, did not require a major surgery.

Kylie is relieved that she is doing well, and so grateful that she gets to be her mom. Despite the heartbreak and grief while she was pregnant, the fear during Lily's birth, and the uncertainty while figuring out her condition, her daughter has shown her there is always something to be thankful for.

Kylie wishes all the family members who she has lost could have had their own survivor stories. Through everything, it has taught her to appreciate the little things, and try to do everything she can to stay healthy and live a fulfilling, happy life for her daughter.

I asked Kylie how she now copes with some of the struggles she dealt with in high school. She says she really does not have any coping skills, just a desire not to harm herself anymore. She said that grief is just something she has learned to live with. It never goes away.

Kylie's support system includes her husband Lucas and his family, her grandmother, her father, and her younger brother Evan. Her father and brother come over twice a week to watch their favorite TV shows.

At the heart of it all, each breath matters. Some are easier to take than others, but we do it, none the less, every day. We must cherish every moment we have with our family, blood or chosen. Kylie is a warrior. She had to endure the most special and scary moments of a woman's life without her mother. She has held it together like no one else I know. She is a doting mother and wife and opened her OWN salon at age twenty-three, Lily Rayne Beauty Bar in Woodstock, IL. This has been her other baby...one that she has cultivated and adorned with local jewelry, natural soaps and organic goods made by her mother-in-law, and wonderful services. She has dedicated coworkers, and they are all so talented.

I met Kylie by going to her when I first moved to the area and another stylist had damaged my hair. She fixed it and made me feel so much better about myself. So, when I decided to do this Survivor Series, she was the first person I asked to donate her time to do hair and makeup for the photo shoots. Not only did she say yes without hesitation, but she has also been positive and lovely throughout the entire process, making every survivor feel special. I just hope she knows how special she is.

Kylie's Aunt Stephanie, her mother Carissa, her grandmother Patsy, and her Aunt Ani and Kylie as a baby.

                            Kylie's older brother Dustin, her mother Carissa, and Kylie.

                                                             Kylie's grandfather Tom.

                                                           Kylie with her Aunt Ani.

                                         Dustin, Kylie, and their younger brother Evan.

                                 Kylie's cousin Samantha and their grandmother Patsy.

                                             Carissa and Kylie on her wedding day.

                                               Kylie's dad and her daughter Lily.

                                                 Lily, Kylie's husband Lucas, and Kylie.

                                               Lily in the hospital when she was sick.

Jessica Slocum

Gold Rush Photography

Kylie would like to dedicate her stories to her family, living and deceased. Each of them has contributed to who she is today.

Lily Rayne Beauty Bar

103 E Judd St.

Woodstock, IL 60098

Part IV

Samantha, age 27, McHenry, IL

June 8, 2022

-Matchbox Twenty

'Unwell'

"More Than You Think You Are"

The Love for Your Child is Limitless

In August 2021, Samantha gave birth to a healthy baby girl named Mia. She was aware that she was at an elevated risk of postpartum depression due to increased risk factors. Samantha had been diagnosed with depression and anxiety before pregnancy and was on medication pre-pregnancy. The last six weeks of her pregnancy she started experiencing low energy and a depressed mood. Unfortunately, it got much, much worse. This is her story of struggle and bravery.

Increased risk factors for postpartum (the period after a baby is born up to two years) depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and OCD include:

• A personal or family history of anxiety, OCD, bipolar disorder, or depression
• Previous perinatal anxiety or depression
• Mothers of multiples
• Thyroid imbalance
• Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (a severe, sometimes debilitating form of premenstrual syndrome that includes physical and behavioral symptoms that usually resolve with the onset of menstruation) (PMDD or PMS)
• Financial, marital stress, or a major recent life event
• Complications in pregnancy, delivery, or breastfeeding
• Mothers whose infants were in the NICU
• Low self esteem
• Childcare stress
• Single relationship status
• Unplanned or unwanted pregnancy
• Difficult infant temperament
• Lower socioeconomic status
• Mothers who have gone through infertility treatments
• Inadequate support in caring for baby

*Courtesy of Massachusetts General Hospital and Postpartum Support International.

Samantha had to be induced into labor because her body was not progressing on its own by the 40-week mark and her umbilical cord was at an increased risk for separating from the placenta. Samantha was given Pitocin (a synthetic form of oxytocin, used to induce labor) slowly overnight. A few hours in, she started to have lower back pain that ended up being constant until her baby was born. Because of this back pain and the fetal monitor needing to be adjusted every time Samantha moved, she did not get much sleep that night. In the morning, the doctor checked her cervix, and she was only a few centimeters dilated. Her doctor then broke her waters, and labor progressed quickly after that.

Because of her previous experiences with mental illness, Samantha was put on Lexapro (Antidepressant - Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRIs)) immediately after delivery, a medication she had been on twice prior to her pregnancy. Samantha and her husband Nick were both surprised when she felt great after delivery. Samantha felt bonded with Mia right away. She encouraged Nick in his new role as a father so much that he called her his "cheerleader."

This continued after Samantha and Mia came home. Samantha felt social because "I wanted to talk about my baby to anyone who would listen. I had a lot of energy, despite not sleeping much, and spent any time that I was not caring for Mia either cleaning or writing. Nick and I were puzzled by all these positive changes but did not want to question it for fear that it would go away."

Then, as some time went on, Nick made a comment that she was "acting crazy" and needed to go to sleep. Samantha has a psychology degree and made a connection...or self-diagnosis. She had not slept in two days, but she had excessive amounts of energy. She realized she was manic for the first time in her life. An emergency therapy session confirmed her mania. Samantha was diagnosed with postpartum bipolar disorder after more appointments with specialists. They were hesitant to give her the diagnosis because it seemed too early, but they did, so that she could be treated promptly. The exact cause of bipolar disorder is not known, but a combination of genetics, environment, and altered brain structure and chemistry may play a role. Sleep deprivation, life changes, stress, and antidepressants without a mood stabilizer can trigger manic episodes, and these all likely played a part in Samantha's episode.

Samantha was uneasy caring for Mia on such little rest because she feared she would fall asleep and drop her, or that her mania would deteriorate quickly, and her impaired judgment could potentially cause harm to her or Mia. Samantha felt she needed to be hospitalized; however, both her therapist and Nick felt she could stay at home and try to "sleep it off."

But Samantha could not sleep. She tried to sleep for Nick's sake. He was adamant that she try despite her protests. She was telling him there was no way she would be able to sleep, as her mind was racing. Hours of relaxation only resulted in an hour or two of actual sleep, but she would still wake up feeling rested and energetic. It did not seem worth the effort. Samantha had so much energy, she felt like she had consumed two pots of coffee or a line of cocaine. She did not feel like she was going to be able to sleep until she burned through her energy.

Samantha became convinced that she needed to solve why she had developed bipolar disorder. She works in the mental health field, and this was now happening to her. She also felt the need to prove that she was not "crazy." In fact, she felt she had unlocked all her brain's true potential, much like the movie Limitless. Nick had taken away her phone and journals in an effort to force her to sleep out of boredom, but she snuck a stack of Post-it notes into their bedroom so that she could write down the ideas that were flying through her mind. She was trying to figure out her manic episode. She asked herself "how could this happen to me?" She felt like she had to do a lot of reflection and see what was causing it. Samantha stayed up all night and finally felt like she had "solved her breakdown." The worst was over.

Her conclusion was that Freud's theory was correct, explained to her by her therapist, that her brain had gone into overdrive to cure her depression and anxiety when she needed it most. She had been under tremendous stress before birth, worrying about Covid-19, SIDS, shaken baby syndrome, labor and delivery, work, and the health of her dogs after one had a scary incident with a peach pit just before her due date. In addition to this, labor was the catalyst that activated the bipolar gene. When Nick found her in the morning, "I looked like Charlie from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia tracking down Pepe Silvia, with Post-it notes all over our bedroom. He did not believe me when I told him it was over, that I was better now."

After a long, drawn-out argument, she finally convinced Nick to give her twenty-four hours to prove to him that things were okay now. In fact, she felt they were better than okay. The final turning point for Nick was when she told him that her brain was as "efficient and brilliant as a supercomputer," and the only reason the "supercomputer could beat me was because I had physical needs that I had to tend to." After hearing that, Nick made plans to send her to the hospital's psychiatric unit for help. Samantha went willingly, although she was disappointed that she was not able to see where the "greatness of my mania would take me."

Had she not been a new mom, Samantha might have enjoyed her stay at the hospital, as she is an advocate for self-improvement and a firm believer in therapy as a mental health professional herself, with a few caveats. She had no access to music because headphones were a safety hazard on the unit and devices with a camera were not allowed for HIPAA privacy reasons. Instead, Samantha sang to herself "You'll Be in My Heart" by Phil Collins from the Tarzan soundtrack, thinking of Mia as she did so. Hoodie and sweatpant strings were banned as well. Even chocolate and pens were considered contraband. Everything about being admitted to the emergency room (ER) and the psychiatric unit moved slowly, and every patient there was uncertain about when they would discharge, or even what the discharge process would look like.

Every so often, a nurse would come by to do a safety check, so Samantha often left the door cracked, even while she pumped milk for her baby. She had to dump her breast milk because they did not have a way to store it and they did not know if her medications were safe for breastfeeding. Mia had never learned to latch, as she had struggled with low blood sugar in the hospital due to being a larger baby and had to be given a bottle right away. Samantha had loved pumping for her before her hospitalization as "it was self-care time for me as I read, watched TV, wrote, and caught up on social media. It was exhilarating to feed my baby, passing off a fresh bottle to my husband like a baton in a relay race." After her hospitalization, Samantha no longer felt this way and instead saw pumping as a chore.

To pass the time in the hospital, Samantha engaged in groups such as art therapy. She journaled frequently. Samantha carried a notebook with her everywhere as her memory was poor due to the sleep deprivation. She was having thoughts about starting a 'baby blog.' She also wanted to document everything so she could write a book one day. One of her manic delusions was that the story of her manic episode would become a New York Times bestseller like An Unquiet Mind by Kay Jamison Redfield. Samantha brought this book with to the psychiatric hospital to prove that she was not crazy and that her story was the same.

The five days in the psychiatric unit away from her newborn were the hardest of her life. Because of Covid-19, she was not able to have visitors. Nick sent her pictures of Mia that she poured over during her free time on the unit. She shared them with anyone who would look. On one of Nick's trips dropping off items for her, she waved at him through the window on the second story as he signed 'I love you.' Her psychiatrist let her Skype her baby during one of their sessions. She tried to focus on treatment as much as possible to distract her from missing Mia. She felt she had to get better for her child. Samantha was given Abilify (Antipsychotic-Atypical, D2 Receptor Partial Agonist-5HT Serotonin Mixed · Bipolar Therapy Agents - Atypical Antipsychotics) in the hospital.

Because of her psychology degree and experience in the mental health field, Samantha found it hard to be a patient on the unit. She found herself giving referrals to her workplace for a homeless Veteran and going over substance abuse treatment facilities for many people struggling with co-occurring disorders. While still in the ER, Samantha had felt triggered by another patient's severe illness because she felt like she needed to be helping him while being severely ill herself.

Being a mental health counselor and substance use disorder counselor for thirteen years myself, I can relate to this need to help others...especially to distract from your own issues.

When Samantha returned home from the hospital, her depression and anxiety returned. Since the medications were regulating her mania, the depressive episode started to emerge. When she got home from the hospital, her parents visited. Samantha had a troubled relationship with her mother, and when they came to visit, they let Samantha and Nick know only thirty minutes before their arrival. Samantha was angry at first, convinced that they were coming to tell Samantha how to care for her mental health. When they arrived, Samantha realized they had come because they had been so worried about her. Samantha thought of how much she loved her daughter and felt the anger melt away. Since having her daughter, Samantha's relationship with her mother has improved as Samantha has a new appreciation for the love a mother harbors for her child. Her mother has also learned to respect her boundaries.

Her parents helped for the first week and stayed in a hotel. Samantha was only sleeping two hours at a time and was not on the correct medications (Abilify and Lexapro). She felt that everyone treated her like she was fragile and wanted her to prioritize sleep while they cared for Mia.

Samantha started experiencing emptiness, hollowness, and no interest in holding Mia. When she did hold her, she would find herself staring off into space with no motivation or ability to make decisions. She had a challenging time caring for her. Nick was frustrated and expected her to be close to 100% better when she got home from the hospital. This is normal. Often men/husbands want to "fix" what is wrong...and when it cannot get "fixed" right away, they can get frustrated. This is one of the differences between the female and male brain, and that is okay. Sometimes they are just wired differently. Men also do not have to deal with the significant hormone shift that happens after birth.

Samantha no longer felt bonded to her baby. She felt detached and thought "what's the point in even caring for Mia," because she was not "Super Mom" anymore. "Super Mom" (the manic version of Samantha) knew what Mia needed in an instant and could soothe her with a single touch. Samantha realized she did not know how to care for her without being manic, and she felt too depressed to try. She still felt unsteady in her own treatment and did not feel like she had recovered enough to care for Mia. Nick needed her to "step it up" after he had been a single dad for a week, but she was not ready.

Samantha was admitted to a Perinatal (the period during pregnancy and one year or more after birth) Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP). The groups met four days a week for four hours per day. It was like a "bootcamp for your postpartum brain." They led groups on anxiety, spirituality, expressive therapy, sleep, and improving your relationships. Samantha found the groups to be super helpful and picked up knowledge she had not learned during her psychology courses in school. One of those things was that exposure therapy is the best way to treat anxiety. She learned that several marriages struggle after bringing a baby home, and she argued frequently with Nick those first few weeks. This is partly because of the emotional toll it had taken on Nick to care for Mia on his own while Samantha was in the hospital, and because Samantha was still manic, which can be expressed as agitation (at times). Samantha says that her mania and having a newborn "brought out the best and worst times of my marriage."

She was placed on the medications Zyprexa (Antipsychotic -Atypical Dopamine-Serotonin Antag-Thienobenzodiazepines · Bipolar Therapy Agents - Atypical Antipsychotics), Zoloft (Antidepressant - Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRIs)), and Gabapentin (an anticonvulsant medication primarily used to treat partial seizures and neuropathic pain). It is a first-line medication for the treatment of neuropathic pain caused by diabetic neuropathy, postherpetic neuralgia, and central pain. This medication can also be used to treat anxiety in some cases, like Samantha's. Her Abillify and Lexapro were removed.

Bipolar Disorder (also called Manic Depression) is a disorder associated with episodes of mood swings ranging from depressive lows to manic highs. Things improved once Samantha was on the right medications (Zyprexa, Gabapentin, and Zoloft) and when she and Nick found their rhythm as new parents.

Samantha has been out of IOP since October 2021. She still has symptoms, but she now has the coping skills and the motivation to address them. Some days, it feels like she "is wading through quicksand as my brain fights to break old habits that perpetuate depression." Other days, she wakes up on the "right side of the bed" and things feel effortless. Samantha has also learned the importance of giving your body and mind time to rest. Recovery is not linear, but now she knows that with the correct medication regimen, challenging negative thoughts, eating healthy, performing self-care, and engaging in regular exercise that she can have more good days than bad...and have better bad days.

I asked Samantha what self-care or self-love looked like to her. She said it looks like dancing with her daughter, writing her truths, journaling, reading for fun or to expand her mind, being in nature, and singing in the shower.

In April 2022, Samantha switched to a postpartum therapist. The latest issue has been that Mia has not been bonding with Nick very well, which leaves Samantha being the primary caregiver during the day and at night.

Samantha remembers her manic episode clearly, although some details are fuzzy from the sleep deprivation, and she has noticed her memory is not as sharp as it was prior to her episode. She tried to document as much as she could during her episode and her time in the hospital. She saved her text messages as well. She still plans on eventually writing a book.

Her daughter gave her the motivation she needed to finally get serious about her mental health. Samantha is grateful for the support she received from her husband during her recovery. Samantha is unabashed in sharing her story with others because she is passionate about promoting awareness of postpartum mental illness and reducing the stigma of bipolar disorder. She followed through with her goal of starting a mommy blog. You can read more about her experience at www.realmotherhood.net.

Postpartum mental illness is more common than one would think. In fact, it is the most common complication after childbirth. As many as twenty percent of mothers and ten percent of fathers will develop a perinatal mood disorder. Furthermore, the postpartum period carries the highest risk of developing bipolar disorder in the human lifetime. Fifty percent of all women with bipolar disorder will be diagnosed after having a baby. Mania occurs in every one to two births out of one thousand and usually appears within the first two weeks after delivery. Up to 50% of women with postpartum depression may actually have bipolar disorder with postpartum onset due to them not recognizing their symptoms of mania.

Symptoms of mania include:

• Inflated self-esteem
• Decreased need for sleep
• More talkative or pressured speech
• Flight of ideas or racing thoughts
• Distractibility
• Increase in goal-directed activity
• Engaging in risky or impulsive behaviors

Samantha has been very brave in sharing this vulnerable information. I know, because I will be sharing my own story of survival from postpartum depression and anxiety during this Survivor Series. Her story hit home for me, and for the last five years, I have been an advocate, a peer support, and fighting the stigma from it. Therefore, I chose her and her story. I am especially grateful for her honesty and candidness regarding the struggles within the home and in her marriage. It is raw and real.

This June 25th, she will be participating in an event called Climb Out of the Darkness in Chicago to raise awareness. It is a walk where mothers, friends, family members, and allies come together in fellowship to receive education and destigmatize postpartum mental illness. A few years ago, I was a speaker at this event. It is sponsored by Postpartum Support International, a nonprofit organization that helps mothers with prenatal and perinatal mood disorders. It is a wonderful resource...one I still utilize and donate to when I can.

I applaud Samantha for her advocacy of herself in this journey. Being a mental health professional, you see the stigma that surrounds mental illness...especially postpartum mental illness all the time. For her to go to the hospital and then on to outpatient groups was a huge step. She is a true warrior.

Samantha when she was feeling her worst. 

             Samantha, Mia, and Nick Fall 2021 (photo and editing: Jessica Slocum, Gold Rush                   Photography)

                   Mia Fall 2021 (photo and editing: Jessica Slocum, Gold Rush Photography)

Jessica Slocum

Gold Rush Photography

Dedicated to Samantha's daughter Mia, for showing her the importance of self-care, to the women she has met along the way who helped her feel less alone, and her husband Nick for supporting her through it all.

*Registration for Climb Out of the Darkness is at 9:00am and the walk is 10:00am on June 25, 2022. Event lasts until 5:00pm and includes activities for kids, a resource fair, and a mini yoga class followed by a two-mile walk around the Humboldt Park Lagoons. Location is Humboldt Park Boathouse 1301 N Humboldt Dr Chicago, IL.

Part III

Donna, age 58, Antioch, IL

June 2, 2022

"You're braids like a pattern

Love you to the moon and to Saturn

Passed down like folk songs

The love lasts so long"

-Taylor Swift

'Seven'

"Folklore"

It Really Does Take a Village

Up until Donna was forty-one, she was a very healthy person. She was very independent and never had to deal with any type of illness. Then she and her husband Dennis became pregnant with her first child. She knew that having a baby at forty-one years old was going to change her life. She just never imagined that on top of learning to live with and care for an infant, that she would be struggling to recover from a major life-saving surgery.

Seventeen years ago, when Donna was 37 weeks pregnant with her daughter, she suffered an aortic dissection. An aortic dissection is a tear in the inner layer of the large blood vessel branching off the heart (aorta). Up until that point she had had a very uneventful pregnancy. Pregnant for the first time at 40 years old, she was healthy and active. She was still working; walking several miles a day and had only gained nine pounds. Then one morning around 5:00 a.m. she was awakened by what felt like "an electric current running up my spine." She got out of bed and walked around her living room trying to catch her breath. It felt like something was "sitting on my chest." Since she had never experienced labor before, she had no idea if this was normal or not, but something inside told her that it was not. A woman's intuition is usually always right...especially about their own bodies. Donna woke Dennis and told him that he needed to take her to the Condell emergency room (ER). That was where she had planned to have her delivery.

By the time they arrived, she was in severe pain. It radiated through her chest and back. Once Donna and Dennis arrived at the ER, she told them she felt like she was having a heart attack. She was scared and had no idea what was going on. Fortunately, they took care of her immediately and secured one of her obstetricians to come to the ER. Luckily, her obstetrician was also located at Condell. The female obstetrician ordered a computerized tomography scan (CT scan). This was not something the ER doctors wanted performed on a pregnant woman, but her obstetrician insisted. Initially, she thought Donna might have had a blood clot in her lung. Both the obstetrician and the technician that performed the CT scan were the first to save her life. The technician was the first that found that she had an aortic dissection. Once that was discovered, it was determined that Condell was not equipped to care for her.

Condell arranged for an ambulance to come with a doctor and a nurse from Evanston Hospital. Before they put Donna in the ambulance to go to Evanston, she had to sign a document that stated who the priority was if anything were to go wrong during the drive there. They asked her to make the choice before getting in the ambulance; either to save her...or her unborn child. She chose her unborn child.

They cared for her during transport. Once she arrived at Evanston, a vascular specialist was called in. Around 7:00 p.m. that night Donna's daughter, Abby, was delivered via c-section. Abby went to the nursery at Evanston for a week while Donna's family figured out a plan to care for her while she was in the hospital. Donna went directly to the ICU. Dennis was able to stay with her.

During the week that Abby was in the nursery, an exceedingly kind nurse would sneak Abby into the ICU each night so Donna could see her as Donna was not strong enough to go to the nursery. In writing this, that made me emotional. Nurses are angels on earth, and they save more lives and make more impressions on people than they even realize. This was a precious, selfless act; and is remembered and shared over seventeen years later.

Donna was heavily sedated after surgery and in the ICU because any spike in her blood pressure would have caused the dissection to increase. Initially the medical team hoped the dissection would repair itself. Unfortunately, that did not end up being the case. Over the next week her organs started shutting down. Her liver and kidneys were shutting down due to a lack of blood flow caused by the dissection. She also became unable to use her legs to walk across the room. She feels that was because of a lack of blood flow as well.

By the eighth day it was determined that she was going to have to have major surgery to repair her aorta. The thoracic surgeon that came up with the plan to save her was "just cocky enough to think he could perform the surgery with good results" according to Dennis. This made me laugh...because sometimes these are the best kind of surgeons. His name was Dr. Edgar Chedrawy. When Abby was just nine days old, Donna underwent an 18-hour surgery to repair the dissection. She was placed on a heart and lung machine that kept her heart and lungs working while she was in surgery. It was such an extensive surgery that afterward she was so swollen and bloated that her own mother (Liz Schmehl) said she was unrecognizable. Thanks to the "Grace of God," her amazing, confident thoracic surgeon Dr. Chedrawy, and excellent medical care, she slowly started to get better. Donna believes having a brand-new baby gave her the strength to push through the worst pain she had ever experienced. She was so physically and mentally exhausted, there were many times that she wanted to give up. In those moments, she would think of Abby, and she would force herself to endure the physical therapy and other things she needed to do to get strong enough to go home to her.

Donna is grateful for every nurse that took care of her, the physical therapists that pushed her to climb a flight of stairs when she did not feel strong enough to stand. The social workers who tried to make sure that she was mentally stable and all the support staff at Evanston Hospital. When she complained that she had not seen the sun for two weeks because she was in a room without windows, they moved her to another room so she could look outside. When she was finally well enough to be moved out of ICU and into a regular room, the President of the hospital stopped in to see if she needed anything. This made quite the impression on Donna.

Dennis spent most of his time with Donna at the hospital. He was trying to help care for Abby at home, but before she was born, he had never even held an infant. He was always great with kids once they reached two years old (like many men) but was leery of babies. With him being a new father, and technically the primary caretaker at this point...it can be scary for anyone.

Also, mothers tend to bond with their children easier and earlier...since they can feel the life inside of them. Fathers usually bond over time.

Donna is very vocal about how many people rallied around her to help her recover. She was told that hospital staff had to ask people to stop coming to see her because there were so many people in the ICU waiting room for her that there was not enough room for other families. In addition to her immediate family, each day aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends came to see her. Not just from her side of the family but from her husband Dennis' side as well. She received flowers, cards, and letters from so many friends and family. She even got cards from people she did not know because friends asked their family members to pray for her. One of her sisters is a nurse and she was their liaison to communicate with the doctors and nurses to make sure that Donna was getting the best care. Dennis' brother would stay with him at night at the hospital so that he did not have to be there by himself. Every single person in her immediate family did so many things to help with her recovery. There were so many acts of kindness and prayers for her, and she wants it to be known that she is grateful for each one.

After almost one month in the hospital, she was finally able to go home to her daughter. Donna was so weak that day that she could barely dress herself but was too stubborn to let anyone in the hospital know. She was determined to get home.

Liz ended up moving in to take care of Abby while Donna recovered. She stayed to take care of Donna as well when she was able to leave the hospital and return home. Her mother-in-law, sisters, and a few friends were extremely helpful in taking care of Abby and then Donna once she returned home. Her dad and father-in-law were instrumental in helping her with her recovery. They would come over each day and help her walk around the block so that she would start to regain her strength. Her brothers-in-law also helped with Abby. The way that all her extended family and friends came together to help Donna during recovery was remarkable. She had so many people praying for her. She remembers one of her friends saying to her that the whole town of Antioch was "praying for me, and I remember really feeling that everyone was wrapping their arms around me in prayer."

"There were just so many people that helped me in both big and small ways. I am so grateful for every act of kindness."

Donna remembers the first time she went back for a follow up visit with Dr. Chedrawy after she was released from the hospital. He almost did not recognize her because he had only seen her when she was in pain and weak.

Donna has a ten-inch descending aortic dissection scar that starts just below her left shoulder blade and curves around and under her left arm. I prefer the term "battle wound".

For the first month of Abby's life, Donna did not get to raise or bond with her. She only got to see her a handful of times while she was in the hospital. Then, once she got home, she was not supposed to even pick her up because she was recovering from surgery. But, somehow through all of that they did eventually bond well. In addition to that, she was not able to drive for at least three months after she came home. That was difficult for Donna because she was used to being able to go wherever she wanted whenever she wanted to.

Donna can remember one Saturday night begging Dennis to take her to the new Walmart in town so that she could get out of the house. It was a major undertaking for her to get in and out of the car and then walk around the store for about twenty minutes. But it felt so good to get out of the house for a little while! One of the first times that Donna was able to drive on her own, she took Abby alone to a pediatric appointment. Up until then either her sister or mother-in-law would drive them to her doctor appointments. Just as she was getting to the doctor's office, she started to see flashes of lights and was having trouble focusing on the road. She thought she was having a reaction to one of her medications, but it turned out that for the first time she was having an optical migraine. She still gets them occasionally, something that she never had before her aorta surgery. "Being the stubborn, independent person that I am, I somehow drove to the pediatrician's office and made it through the appointment even though I could barely see his face clearly. I didn't say anything about what was going on to him, but I often wondered if he could tell something was wrong with me."

Donna reveals that she is not the same person she was before all of this. As for long term side effects she has been fortunate. At first, she lost the function of one kidney and was told it would not come back, but miraculously it did! She has frequent pain in her back due to scar tissue. She is on blood pressure medication because she must keep her blood pressure lower than usual. Donna states she gets dizzy from low blood pressure at times. She claims her brain does not work the way it used to. Donna states most people would never notice but she does. Sometimes when she is reading, it gets muddled in her mind. At first, she had short-term memory issues, but that has gotten better over the years. She has been told that it is because her body temperature had to be so low during the 18-hour surgery and because of being on the heart and lung machine. Other than that, she tries not to overexert herself. She gets yearly magnetic resonance imaging (MRI's) to make sure there are no changes, and everything looks healthy.

There were so many adjustments that she had to make after she had the aortic dissection. Some of them very small, but at the same time life changing for her. She does not think a single day has gone by in over seventeen years that her husband has not asked her "how are you feeling today?" It changed his life too because he has worried about her every day since the dissection. As the person going through the surgery and recovery; it was difficult, but she thinks in many ways it was harder for him and her family to have to watch what she went through. During the worst of it, she was really "out of it" and only knows some of the details from hearing her family talk about it. They were fully aware of what was going on throughout the whole thing.

Donna has had to endure other medical issues since suffering the dissection including meningitis, a hysterectomy and most recently gallbladder surgery. She has a compromised immune system but is grateful to still be here. Donna wanted to discuss why she had to have a hysterectomy.

For two years she was having severe "female problems". Donna was seeing her primary care physician, gynecologist, and various specialists. She thought she was just going through menopause. But she continued to feel worse and worse. The day of Abby's confirmation they had a small party at their house. Her sister Barb noticed that it was difficult for her to walk up a few stairs. She urged her to see her doctor as soon as possible to figure out what was really going on. Donna went in a few days later for a blood test. That evening her doctor called her at home from her own home phone to tell Donna that she needed to get to the ER as soon as possible for a blood transfusion. Her hemoglobin was extremely low at just 6 (it should be between 12 and 15). She was extremely anemic. She asked if it was okay to drive herself to the ER since Dennis was already asleep. Her doctor was concerned if she would be able to do so, but she explained that she had just gotten home from work and would be okay, so she said Donna could drive.

Her doctor sent the instructions to the ER that she would be coming in for a blood transfusion. By the time she got to the ER it was difficult to walk into the building. Donna had the transfusion and by the time she left six hours later, she felt so much better. Unfortunately, that transfusion just gave her a boost for a few days. She had to go in for another transfusion about one week later. After that she worked hard to try to make sure to eat several iron rich foods every day. She was unable to get her hemoglobin over 8. Donna saw more specialists and finally saw one that diagnosed her with Adenomyosis. This is a condition when the inner lining of the uterus (the endometrium) grows into the muscle wall of the uterus. This results in painful and heavy menstrual bleeding.

The best solution was to have a hysterectomy which she had been trying to avoid because of her past medical history. But after talking with her primary doctor and her gynecologist, she realized that she could not continue having such low hemoglobin because it was especially dangerous to her with her history of aortic dissection, so she decided to go ahead and have the hysterectomy. Donna says this was the right choice. She had the surgery on a Monday, went home on Tuesday and by Wednesday she felt well enough to attend a wake for a friend's brother. She was amazed at how quickly she recovered from that surgery and how much she felt better after that.

When the Covid-19 pandemic hit, she had to be extra careful. She stayed quarantined and secluded for three months. She slowly began venturing out around people when she felt safe. She did end up testing positive for Covid-19 in November 2020. Donna says it was a very mild case and was lucky that it just felt like a bad cold. Her cough did hang on for several months, and she is worried she may have some long-term effects of Covid-19. She is now vaccinated and feels that she can fully live her life without much worry. She states that she has been "blessed to raise an amazing 17-year-old daughter".

Through it all, she tries to have a positive outlook and "just keep going." Her prognosis could have been so much worse. The chances of having a stroke or becoming paralyzed during her aorta surgery was extremely high. In fact, surviving at all was questionable. But here she is, still living life to its fullest!

Donna went to see Dr. Chedrawry again about five years ago and he gave her a big hug. She believes he was shocked at how well she was doing. He is now at a different hospital and teaches. He said he often shares the story of her surgery with his students. Who knows how many more lives will be saved because of this?

Volunteering is a big part of Donna and Abby's life. Ever since Abby was two years old they have been volunteering at One Hope United in Lake Villa to raise money for their child abuse prevention programs. By the time Abby was ten years old she (they) raised over forty thousand dollars by selling raffle tickets and auctioning off baked goods and artwork that they had created. Donna was a member of the One Hope United Lake County Ambassador Board for several years. She played a leading role on many community events over the years and has gotten exceedingly good at facilitating silent auctions. Donna is currently working on two upcoming events. One is for a longtime friend whose wife passed away suddenly in October and the other is for Kindred Life Ministries which is a non-profit that helps teen moms learn the life skills needed to support their children. Last November and December she organized donations for Thanksgiving dinners for families in need and Christmas gifts for the boys that live at the residential care program for One Hope United.

"Volunteering in our community is something that I'm very passionate about and I've tried to instill that in Abby as well."

Donna's extreme strength, faith and bravery got her through one of the toughest times in her life. Labor and delivery are the most dangerous time in a woman's life (medically and mentally) and even a perfect pregnancy can end in disaster (not to intentionally scare anyone, it is just a fact). The unknown that comes with having a child is a fear any mother will tell you exists. I still hold my breath when I find out one of my friends is in labor. The dangers, trials, and tribulations of labor and delivery are not discussed enough. Birth trauma is a very real thing. Donna is a true survivor.

Donna says that this entire process has stirred up many emotions for her. Even though it has been seventeen years, it can be raw and emotional for her to discuss. She feels bad sometimes because Abby has never had a "healthy" mother. She says she is doing very well, probably better than anyone would have imagined she would be seventeen years ago. She fears that there is always the thought that something could happen to her just beneath the surface of their lives. She does not dwell on it, and she does not think anyone else does either, but it is always there. As a mother, I can relate to this.

"They say it takes a village to raise a child, but in my case, I felt like I had the most awesome village of family and friends surrounding me to help me recover. And in so many ways everyone has continued to help me in one way or another over the past 17+ years."

When I met with Donna face to face to do her photo shoot, I could immediately feel her warmth. She is just the type of person you come across that has kindness deep in their soul. I'm honored to tell her story, and when I tell you she SHINED on that beach...she SHINED. 

Donna and Abby right after birth.

           Donna and Abby on Lake Geneva. Photo and editing: Jessica Slocum, Gold Rush               Photography.

Jessica Slocum

Gold Rush Photography

Donna would like to dedicate her story to her mother Liz, her husband Dennis, her beautiful daughter Abby, and her entire extended family and dear friends. 

Part II

Jenn, age 32, Woodstock, IL

May 27, 2022

"You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes

Spinning in my highest heels, love

Shining just for you"

All I do is try, try, try

I'm still on that trapeze

I'm still trying everything"

-Taylor Swift

'mirrorball'

"folklore"

Make it to Another Day

I must say, this photo shoot made me a bit emotional. Due to Jenn's Multiple Sclerosis (MS), her legs were not cooperating, and she needed to be carried up and down stairs. Let me tell you though, this girl persevered! One of the things I am doing in this Survivor Series is getting these women out of their comfort zones...pushing them a bit. So, when I suggested her to stand in five-inch black heels with red bottoms for a few pictures, I thought she would crumble. But no. Not Jenn. With assistance leaning against a brick wall and holding onto her bedazzled cane, she stood there, without any help. And smiled. And posed as if she was modeling for Vogue. That woman used all her strength and energy to show how much of a warrior she really is. They were my heels, and I brought them because we have the same size shoe. I thought it would be powerful for Jenn to wear such high heels (if it were possible) even though she must use a walker. After a four-hour shoot, we were all hot and exhausted. Later that night, Jenn sent me her bucket list, and one of the things written on it was "wear red bottomed heels." There was a checkmark by it.

Jenn was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis at age 17 as a senior in high school in 2008. She has "been dragged through the flames of hell with this disease." MS is a potentially disabling disease of the brain and spinal cord (central nervous system).

With MS, the immune system attacks the protective sheath (myelin) that covers nerve fibers and causes communication problems between your brain and the rest of your body. Eventually, the disease can cause permanent damage or deterioration of the nerves (Mayo Clinic). It is often referred to as the "snowflake disease," because no two cases are alike.

Jenn's struggle consumes her every day. She states that there is not a second in the day that "I don't think about this dreaded disease." Jenn has two boys: Declan, age 5 and Vinnie, 18 months. She claims that she is "surviving because of them." They give her the motivation she needs to keep going. Her balance is unsteady, and she cannot walk any longer without the assistance of a "walker or a strong arm." She has battled every single symptom of the disease including but not limited to loss of vision, numbness, chronic fatigue, vertigo, spasticity and tremor, and bladder retention. She has also been paralyzed from the neck down. She was scared and has questioned whether she was strong enough to live this life. She has gone to bed "okay" and woken up with triple vision. She has been on five different MS medication therapies...and relapsed on every single one. She questions her worth, battles severe anxiety and depression and often cries out in frustration (you could never tell this by being around her. She has an infectious smile and laugh).

Imagine battling your own body every single moment of every single day. Jenn stays positive and smiles through it because her kids need her. She would like to think that even through her struggles: legs that do not work and various daily symptoms, she has come out on top and is "killing it at this mom game."

All of Jenn's scars are internal. She has lesions on her brain and spine. Medical imaging is like a journal that shows the horrible journey she has been through. Her MRI scans of brain "spots" would bring you to your knees; they are heartbreaking.

So...my big question for Jenn was...how did you have two children with MS? Here is her astounding story.

Rewind back to 2015. Jenn was 26 years old and experiencing the worst relapse to date. Her spinal cord was riddled with white lesions, and before she could grasp the fact that she was not feeling well, she was instantly robbed of her ability to do everything. She was numb and tingling from her neck down. Her whole body was being electrocuted and asleep, a nightmare that she could not escape. It was not long after that episode that she landed in her neurologist's office. Jenn had already done steroids to bring the inflammation down with no relief. This surprised her doctor. She went home to get some rest and "wait it out." Now fast forward three months later. Still no relief and now Jenn was unable to walk, use the bathroom, get dressed or cook alone. She went back to her doctor, crying and at the mercy of his advice. She could not do it anymore; she was giving up. Her own body was failing her. Betraying her. Jenn's doctor then looked at her blatantly in the face and said, "have you considered getting pregnant? It brings MS relapse into remission." Jenn's boyfriend and high school sweetheart Sean was by her side in the office when the doctor mentioned this. They were both puzzled and looked at him like he was out of his mind and joking. They went home and were in shock and awe of this news. Jenn's high school sweetheart could provide her with a gift that no one else could, a priceless and selfless gift. A gift that would change their entire lives. She was desperate at that point, but Sean was not ready to have children. It took another month to convince him that he would be able to help her. They tried for two months and just like that, she was pregnant! It was not long before Jenn felt drastically better. She could not believe it. She soon regained her ability to walk and dress herself and at four months pregnant the numbness subsided. The rest of her pregnancy was great. As she got bigger it was quite a challenge maneuvering her big belly because she was only ninety-five pounds (not due to the MS, she is just naturally tiny). On June 24, 2016, (her dad's 50th birthday) at 6:14pm she delivered an 8-pound 13 oz beautifully perfect baby boy naturally. The labor was fast, and she was in and out of the hospital within 25 hours. She felt like Superwoman. Sean and Jenn named him Declan Jay and she calls him her "miracle baby." She never imagined she would be in this wonderful of a remission, let alone a mother.

Sean and Declan were her saviors, her rays of light. They brought her out of the worst relapse of her life...up until that point.

I asked Jenn candidly if she had thoughts about how she would be able to take care of her baby with MS if the symptoms returned after the baby was born. She said that she felt so wonderful, she did not think about that, and her doctor had assured her that her symptoms would also stay at bay the longer she breastfed. She did breastfeed.... for ten months. Although her symptoms were not there while breastfeeding, she was struggling with malnourishment and was down to eighty-five pounds. The baby was taking everything from her, and she was unhealthy, so she had to make the emotional and difficult decision to stop breastfeeding.

I was curious as to what it was during pregnancy that stopped symptoms of MS. Jenn said it was the hormone Prolactin. So, I did a little research on this. A study of Prolactin, a pregnancy hormone,may repair nerve damage and might help treat multiple sclerosis (MS), Canadian researchers report. So far, the scientists -- who work at the University of Calgary -- have only studied prolactin in female mice, not in people.

Jenn and I discussed this and naturally I asked her why women with MS cannot just take the Prolactin hormone. She said that there is a mysterious X-Factor. There is something in a pregnant woman's body in addition to the prolactin hormone that assists women into remission. Scientists and doctors have not yet figured out what that is. They have figured out a synthetic prolactin...but it is not working due to that unknown component. Jenn also mentioned that she could not take any of her MS medications during pregnancy because they were not safe. A couple of months after Jenn stopped breastfeeding, her symptoms returned. Worse than ever. Thoughts of not being able to care for her baby destroyed her for the first time, and it was the first time she awoke to being paralyzed from the neck down. Jenn's mom helped her every day for months until she was feeling better. She could not hold her baby, walk and take care of herself. With medications and IV infusions, she got a little better. Enough to care for her new son.

I also did a little research on whether MS is genetic or not. MS is not directly inherited, but people who are related to someone with the condition are more likely to develop it; the chance of a sibling or child of someone with MS also developing it is estimated to be around 2 to 3 in 100. -National Health Service, UK

A few years later, Sean and Jenn started seeing things a little differently, and started growing apart as high school sweethearts often do. They decided that it would be best for their little family to part ways romantically. Jenn describes this time as one of her biggest struggles and the hardest thing she ever had to let go of. He was her everything and she had spent 15 years of her life with him. They had been through everything together. She thought she would never be able to find another "Sean." She thought "no one was ever going to love a new mom of a 2-year-old, with a progressive disease and no job". Or so she thought.

Enter Joey. One day Jenn received a message from a man named Joey on Facebook, saying he was friends with her brother. It took a few months of convincing, but she decided to meet him for breakfast. Jenn had to bring Declan with because she was "a single mother" and he went everywhere with her. She walked into the restaurant pushing her stroller because she needed it as support to walk. This moment was a turning point for Jenn. Joey hugged her so tight that she felt all her broken pieces snap back together. He was different, he felt different, he hugged different. He opened his arms to Declan and said, "can I hold him?" Her eyes welled with tears, and she said, "YES YOU SURE CAN!" Jenn continued seeing Joey and before long they were inseparable. She was not experiencing any symptoms and overall was feeling well.

I got to witness the relationship between Jenn and Joey firsthand. He was present at her photoshoot and carried her up and down stairs, assisting me in posing her and looking on, protective. You can see the love and care he has for her. To add to this, he felt terribly ill this day, but knew how important it was to Jenn, and wanted to be there to help.

At the start of the Covid-19 pandemic, he was spending more time with Jenn and Declan at home as no one was really "allowed" to go anywhere. They were scared, especially with Jenn's MS. Jenn joked that there was not much of anything "else" to do...so, the inevitable happened. She got pregnant. She states her second child was not planned; he was a "beautiful disaster of a mistake and a miracle of being quarantined." He was their surprise pandemic baby. Jenn's second pregnancy was normal except for feeling exhausted every single day for 9 months because she also had 4-year-old Declan.

Vincenzo "Vinnie" Joseph was born November 23rd, 2020, weighing in at 7 pounds, 7 oz. She states that her labor and delivery was easier and faster than the first. Again, she was released from the hospital within 25 hours. Jenn felt blessed her family was complete.

Jenn says her boyfriend Joey is her soulmate and sunshine to all her dark days. He "puts up with complete chaos" and he "deals with me when I can't deal with myself." She states, "I could not do this life without him."

Jenn started her monthly (every 28 days) IV infusion of a medication called Tysabri a week after she had Vinnie. It is pumped into an IV in her arm over the course of two hours. She also takes compounded medication to help her walk, an anti-anxiety and anti-depression medication and Botox injections into her calf muscles every three months.

Right now, Jenn is stable, every day is a struggle because of the damage that has already been done to her body from the last 15 years, but she is positive and optimistic. Jenn says that if she can get through 100% of her hardest days, to her, that's success. She also tells me "You can't wait until life is easy to be happy." Jenn also has no new MRI lesions and no new symptoms. Jenn is immensely proud to say she can drive and do EVERYTHING on her own, it just takes her a bit longer.

Jenn uses a walker or cane and tries to make the best of every day. She goes on to say, "we don't know how long we have here."

Jenn states Sean is the best dad to Declan and she and him remain best friends.

Jenn has the most beautiful smile and talking with her, you would not even notice her disability. Her outlook on life, her children and her lover are unmatched. She has a sweet heart and soul, and it radiates off her. She is also a complete badass. These are all the things I want conveyed in her photos. I hope you learn something and take something away from her story. I certainly have.

                                                  Jenn during one of her IV infusions.

Jessica Slocum, BS

Gold Rush Photography

Jenn would like to dedicate her journey to her beautiful children, Declan and Vinnie, her parents and amazing family, her best friend Brenda, Sean, and boyfriend Joey.

Part I

Amanda, age 36, Woodstock, IL

May 9, 2022

"And when the storm's out, you run in the rain

Put your sword down, dive right into the pain

Stay unfiltered and loud, you be proud of that

skin full of scars"

-Pink

All I Know So Far: Setlist

You Never Know Who is Listening

Amanda just celebrated TEN years of sobriety this March 2022; St. Patrick's Day to be exact. Her drug of choice was heroin. She began using at age thirteen. She went through the prison system four times before she turned twenty-five. She has overcome homelessness. She was held captive at "The House of Horrors" in Chicago. She was raped. She was malnourished. She had a baby in active addiction. Here is her story. And it is beautiful.

Over eleven years ago, Amanda was released from prison. She moved into her uncle Brett "Ricky" Strollo's apartment, on the north side of Chicago. She had been clean for about four months while she was in the Illinois Department of Corrections (IDOC). Her uncle was actively using heroin when she moved in. So, the odds of her staying clean were "slim to none." Amanda would make "runs" to the west side of Chicago to pick up drugs for her uncle. While out one day she had met a man on the Red Line "L" train in Chicago. He had a job, but no house. She and her uncle let him stay with them and charged him money for rent so they could afford drugs. Amanda and this man engaged in activities which led her to become pregnant. She had tried to get clean while pregnant, but the drugs had too strong of a hold on her and she had her son in active heroin addiction. Amanda ended up delivering a baby boy and named him Niko. In the hospital, Niko was in full opiate withdrawal and needed to be tube fed. Miraculously, on the second day, he latched onto a bottle. Her uncle Ricky visited her and Niko in the hospital right after he was born. The next day, Amanda kept calling her uncle, but he was not answering. Two days after delivering Niko, Amanda was discharged from the hospital and went to the apartment she shared with her uncle. Niko was still under observation in the NICU. To her devastation, she found her uncle on the floor dead from a heroin overdose. Since he was her closest confidant; and the only family still speaking to her, she could not feel the joy of having a child.

Niko's "father" was no longer living at the apartment and was not in communication with Amanda at that time. He was not responsible enough to care for a baby. In addition to that, Amanda was not ready to be done with heroin. The moment she found her uncle, it sent her into a downward spiral. She went back to the hospital long enough to meet with a DCFS worker and sign her rights over for her son, as she knew there was no way she could care for him. After this she claims she "hit the west side of Chicago HARD and was on a mission to die." What happened next was the thing of nightmares.

The following article was from CBS News Chicago on February 1, 2013. I do not think I would be able to articulate Amanda's story properly without it.

Authorities Shut Down Prostitution 'House Of Horrors'

FEBRUARY 1, 2013 / 9:37 PM / CBS CHICAGO

(CBS) -- Police say they've broken up a prostitution "house of horrors" that did business in Schiller Park and on Chicago's west side.

Keith Williams, 52, allegedly served his prostitutes crack and heroin twice a day on a silver platter, but prosecutors say he was one brutal master, WBBM Newsradio's Bob Roberts reports.

He allegedly would beat women for rule infractions, real or imagined, with his fists and feet. He would choke them, handcuff them and lock them away for days at a time without food or drugs, making them ill, authorities said Friday.

Cook County State's Attorney Anita Alvarez says the multi-agency investigation, dating back to May, showed a pattern of preying on women who were down-and-out. Some admitted they went to work for Williams despite a violent reputation.

"What started out as a standard investigation into drugs and prostitution quickly evolved into something much more complex," Alvarez said in a news release. "As it turned out, Keith Williams was the Chief Operating Officer of a sex trafficking house of horrors, providing the sexual services of drug addicted women to countless numbers of paying customers and collecting all of the significant cash profits for himself and his associates."

Bond is set at $650,00 dollars for Williams and at $350,000 each for driver Roman Kurek, 49, and prostitute Sylvia Topolewski, 37.

First published on February 1, 2013 / 9:37 PM

© 2013 CBS Broadcasting Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Amanda had been "recruited" and was a part of this house of horrors. Amanda states that everyone called Keith Williams "Shampoo" because he was a barber. He was the "leader, the "top dog" and oversaw the operation." Roman was the driver. He would transport the girls to "calls" or "dates." Williams "preyed on every girl in that house, everyone was a drug addict." Amanda says he would cut their hair, buy them clothing, get them hygiene and cosmetic products, and serve them three grams of heroin and three grams of cocaine every day on a literal silver platter.

Amanda states Sylvia was the "house mom" and she would get groceries, cook, clean, and also coordinate the "dates" ...like a receptionist for sex trafficking. She would also "recruit" girls who were homeless and addicted...ones that were vulnerable enough to make their operation successful. She claims that Sylvia would have them all get their LINK cards (food stamps) and then Williams would take everyone's card once they received them. It was another tactic of keeping the women dependent on them and not being able to leave the house of horrors. Amanda says she and the girls had to make $250-$500 per night. If they did not earn that, they had to stay on the street until they made it, regardless of weather conditions. Amanda states that she and a few other girls were drugged, beaten, and sold for sex.

Amanda and another girl managed to escape. Roman dropped Amanda off for a "date." He was waiting for her out front. She took the money she made from the date and left out of the back of the hotel, threw her phone, and caught the next bus she saw. She had somewhat planned it out. Before the "date" she had packed a few things that could fit into her purse. She was fearful that Keith would find her, not only did she leave, but she left with "his money."

She spent an additional ten months on the streets of the west side of Chicago, selling her body to continue her habit. She lived in an abandoned building with other users. She was raped, beaten, and left in an alley. At this point she had no family, friends, son, or real shelter. She wanted to die. She went to her "dope spot" and bought six or seven bags of heroin. She used it ALL in one needle. When she woke up, she was angry that she did not die. So, she went back and got more. At this point in time, her tolerance was extremely high. She was consistently doing three grams of heroin per day. She purchased another large amount of heroin and before she "shot up" asked God to "either take me away or show me another way."

Twelve hours later, Amanda woke up in the hospital. She had no idea how she got there. She had tubes coming out of her chest and the emergency room (ER) doctor informed her that she had double pneumonia and low oxygen levels and gave her a 20% chance of living if she left. She was "dope sick" (experiencing extreme withdrawal from heroin) and ready to leave the hospital so that she could go use and feel better. Withdrawal from heroin is an awful experience. It includes but is not limited to restlessness, muscle and bone pain, insomnia, diarrhea, vomiting, cold flashes with goosebumps and uncontrolled leg movements.

Amanda was about to leave against medical advice (AMA) because all that she cared about was getting high. At this point in time, she had been estranged from her family for 9 months. Her dad's friend who happened to be a homicide detective was even looking for her. Amanda's phone rang and it was her brother. She had used with him in the past for many years. He was sober for a year when he called. He begged her not to leave and told her he was two hours away and wanted to come and talk with her. She reluctantly agreed on the phone. After one hour, Amanda ripped her IV out and was getting dressed to leave when her brother walked in with his sponsor (someone who holds you accountable in your sobriety journey) Tommy. She did not want to hear anything they had to say, she just wanted to get high. Something DID stick out though. After they left, Amanda thought about it. Her brother had said, "there's another way." She asked the nurse for help that night. The nurse coordinated a transfer to Southwood Interventions for detoxification.

Detox, or detoxification is a medically managed space where one can safely rid their bodies of drugs and alcohol. They can obtain medications for some of the awful withdrawal symptoms that usually lead one back to use. Amanda was on morphine for the pneumonia pain, as well as heroin and methadone (from the street) still lingering in her system. Southwood offered Medication Assisted Treatment (MAT) to treat the disease of opiate addiction. Their form of this (there are many) was a drug called methadone. Methadone is a synthetic opiate that when used correctly and dosed right will take away withdrawal from opiates, but it will not get one high. Southwood Interventions offered her a dose of methadone on the first day...and Amanda refused it. She decided against MAT and wanted to be completely clean and sober of all substances. She said, "if I'm going to get sober, I'm going to do it all the way." It was extremely rough. She went two to three weeks of being sick from withdrawal and refusing her dose of methadone every day. For an opiate addict to rather "gut out the pain and sickness of withdrawal and refuse a medication that could take all of that away instantly" is an exceedingly rare feat. That tells me how tough Amanda is. She made it through detox, talking to her brother the whole time and praying with him.

The next step was completing a residential program. It was at this time that she reconnected with her mom and dad. Then a miracle happened. It was close to Mother's Day, and she was called into her counselor's office, not knowing why. The same DCFS worker Amanda had signed the rights to her son away with was in the room. With Niko. Niko immediately recognized her and called her "mommy" and hugged her. Bewildered, Amanda looked to the DCFS worker. She told Amanda that she had a "gut feeling" about her the day that she signed over Niko and placed him in foster care until she could find her again. The DCFS worker told her "You have one shot." The DCFS worker had showed Niko her picture consistently and that is how he knew her. Amanda claims this was a "fire that was lit to do what I needed to do to get Niko back." Amanda completed residential treatment and transferred to a halfway house in Englewood. That was rough because the house was next to dangerous situations (gang activity, drugs, drive by shootings). She left that house and went to Grace House behind the United Center on the west side of Chicago. While there, Amanda went on to receive her high school diploma, obtain a job, and had supervised visits twice a week at DCFS centers with Niko.

Amanda went through the court system to get her rights back. She moved to Woodstock, IL to Wish House, a three-quarter house (less strict than a halfway house). She wanted to start building a life and be closer to family. She did not want to raise her son in a bad neighborhood in Chicago. Amanda took the train to court dates. At one court session, Niko's foster dad stood up and said, "we are ready to adopt Niko right now." The Judge said "ABSOLUTLY NOT" and that he had "never seen a more determined mother in his life" and gave her ninety days to find proper placement for her and her son. At this point in time, Amanda had been dating Tommy, her brother's sponsor. She had a job at Dunkin' Donuts and would not be able to afford rent in Woodstock alone, so he asked her to move in with him. They got an apartment in Woodstock. When they were settled, the Judge gave them overnight visits immediately. Shortly after overnight visits started, they went to court. The Judge told her that she had done MORE than he had asked her to do, and Niko was going home with her THAT DAY. That was such a proud milestone for Amanda.

Amanda and Tommy got pregnant with their daughter in 2015. They named her Vera Lynn after one of Amanda's favorite Pink Floyd songs. Amanda and Tommy got engaged and married in 2018. Tommy has 16 years clean and sober currently.

It has been over ten years and Amanda is still clean and sober. She has a beautiful family and is genuinely happy. She has a home and a career. She is a mom, daughter, aunt, friend, wife, and employee. Today she can proudly say that she is a survivor of something that almost killed her multiple times.

Amanda says, "now I am a person I never thought I would be. I am Project Manager at a successful restoration company, an honest member of society and a contributor to my community. Who would have thought that I would be a baseball/football/cheer mom, serving as a Board Member for Youth Sports in my community? I put myself out there. During the day I am working in chaos at my job and by early evening, into the night, I am at my children's sporting events, and I stay active."

Amanda went to AA up until a year and a half ago. She still applies the core principles to her daily life. Her drive is her family. Amanda claims she has her handful of "mom friends" with similar backgrounds that keep her grounded. Amanda has sponsored others in the past and gives lectures to substance use disorder facilities and rehabilitation centers. "We feel most bonded as a family when we are out on the field watching our son Niko play baseball or football. We have met some AMAZING families in our community that share the same "sports family" lifestyle and they accept me for who I am."

Amanda has covered most of her external scars with tattoos. This is a way for her to journal, a way for self-expression. It is a way of taking back the power over her body. Deciding what SHE wants for it. Amanda has been so brave putting herself out there and sharing her story, especially with all the stigma that still surrounds Drug and Alcohol Use Disorder.

One of the reasons I selected Amanda, is because I was a Substance Use Disorder Counselor for over thirteen years. My favorite and most challenging patients to work with were opiate addicts. I lost so many patients to overdose, one in particular that I was very close with and hopeful for. His name was Jake Mathiessen. So, I have seen firsthand how rare Amanda's story is. And I am so proud of her. She is such an amazing example to others in this situation. Amanda is open to sharing her story "because you never know who is listening."

                                               Amanda before she got clean and sober.

                    Amanda, her uncle Brett "Ricky" Strollo 12 hours before she found him passed                          from an overdose.

Jessica Slocum, BS

Gold Rush Photography

Dedicated to Amanda's uncle Brett 'Ricky' Strollo, Jake Mathiessen, and everyone who passes away daily from this dreaded disease.

"I would also like to dedicate this to my son, Niko. He does not know it now, but he saved my life."

-Amanda