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7 things I wish I had known when I was diagnosed with breast cancerWritten by: Krissy White December 2, 2019 is the day my world stopped spinning. That is the day I got the phone call no one ever wants to receive with the news no one wants to hear. It’s the day my life was split in 2 parts: BC (before cancer) & life after cancer, and nothing would ever be the same. I will never be the same. I was diagnosed with stage 2 invasive ductal carcinoma, better known as breast cancer. There was so much I didn’t know. So, I have decided to use my story for good. To help others. To spread awareness & hope. And to offer support and guidance to all the newly diagnosed. When you are first diagnosed it’s like someone just handed you a bomb and your whole life just shatters around you. You are left completely overwhelmed and lost. So much information is thrown at you and it feels like it’s all in another language. There is just so much I didn’t know. So, I came up with a list of 7 things I wish I had known. Obviously there is probably 5,844,864 more but let’s start with 7. This short list will absolutely help anyone newly diagnosed or someone who knows someone newly diagnosed. 1. Their story isn’t your story. Every diagnosis is different. There are so many factors that go into it like where the tumor is located, how big it is, how fast it’s growing, the stage, what’s feeding it & whether the cancer is in your lymph nodes or anywhere else. After you have a complete diagnosis, then comes the treatment plan. There are as many treatment plans as there are stars in the sky. No two are alike. I’ve had friends that just had a mastectomy, friends that just had chemo and then there is me that had ALL the things. You just have to trust your oncologist and medical team but also know you are absolutely allowed to get a 2nd, 3rd or even 4th opinion. Just don’t try to compare your journey to someone else’s. It will make your head hurt. 2. Cancer is a life sentence. If follows you forever and changes your life completely. When I was first diagnosed I thought “ok, so I’ll have some chemo, maybe a surgery or 2 and be done.” WRONG! I fought hard for 18 months. I did 16 rounds of chemo, double mastectomy, lymph node dissection (had to go back in to remove more lymph nodes), 28 rounds of radiation, oophorectomy (ovaries & tubes removed), reconstruction & now have to take a pill for 10 years and have an infusion every 6 months. I will always have follow up scans & appointments as well as pills to take. I also have to take a handful of pills/supplements to counteract the pill I take for 10 years. Not only that but now I have to click the “history of cancer” box on every medical form for the rest of my life, and my kids will, too. Cancer will be a part of me for life. 3. Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t catch cancer. Nothing you did, didn’t do, ate, drank or thought about gave you cancer. Cancer doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if you are young/old, rich/poor, fat/skinny, tall, blonde, healthy, a fast runner, good at math or anything else! Just by being a female your risk is 1 in 8. You can work out everyday, eat healthy, smear yourself down in essential oils, take all the supplements and still get cancer. Unfortunately there isn’t a whole lot you can do to prevent it. 4. It’s not a free boob job. I get it. It’s a joke. It’s meant to be light hearted and maybe make you laugh but nothing about cancer is funny. We all had to make hard decisions. Decisions to have parts of our body cut off or out to live. I basically had everything removed that makes me a woman and will never be of feel whole again. Yes, I got a “free boob job” but nothing about it was free. I paid a hefty hefty price physically, mentally, emotionally and financially just to look “normal” on the outside. This is just one of the things I thought was okay before I was diagnosed. Unless someone tells you, you don’t know. So, I’m telling you. 5. The pink ribbon. Ask any fighter or survivor their thought on the pink ribbon and they will all say the same. They have a love/hate relationship with it. Part of me loves it because it helps raise awareness and shows support however it’s also a constant reminder of everything you went through. Cancer is awful, evil & ugly. It’s definitely not pretty and nothing about it is pink. Sometimes I think that slapping a pink ribbon on it makes you think it’s not as bad as it is. Also, did you know that 100,000’s of companies capitalize on pink to sell products but most of the time ZERO (or almost zero) of the funds actually go to research or breast cancer support? Please investigate all BC or pink purchases to ensure at least 5% of proceeds go to a credible organization. 6. What to get someone who was just diagnosed or your friend that’s fighting? Make sure they feel loved & support. Check on them, keep inviting them, offer to pick up things or watch the kids. Also, 2 words - gift cards!! Chemo steals your tastebuds and also makes you queasy so you never know what is going to sound good and when so I HIGHLY recommend DoorDash or Uber eats gift cards. Also thank you cards and stamps are an awesome gift. I would stay away from pink ribbon things. You don’t want to be a pink ribbon walking billboard for cancer. Blankets, journals, water bottles and socks are all great but those are the common go-to’s (especially when you ask Google or Pinterest 🤣) so maybe feel them out to see if they already received 17 blankets before you purchase. A maid to clean their house or do their laundry would be amazing. The biggest thing I can say is, instead of the normal “please let me know if I can do anything,” just DO IT. “Hey I’m sending you dinner, what would you like?” or “I am going to the liquor store, what do you want?” Things like that are amazing! 7. Attitude and activity. Attitude is everything! I was told by SO many people that the way I handled my situation was inspiring. I am just a normal hot mess mom just taking it day by day and trying to keep my promise to my kids to life as normal as possible. Don’t get me wrong, it 100% sucked. There is no part of cancer that is fun however being negative and complaining doesn’t help at all, so why bother. I was chosen, not condemned. God has a bigger plan and sometimes you don’t understand. You just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other 'til you get through the darkness. Also I 100% attribute me staying active to making my journey look “easy”. Believe me, it was far from it but it could have been SO much worse. All my doctors were shocked at how well and quickly I rebounded after all my surgeries. I’m not a sitter, a layer, a napper. I am a mover & a never sit downer. I was told to do whatever I felt like I could so I ran and when I could no longer run, I walked. A lot! I was up walking 2 days after my double mastectomy. Were their days I wanted to lay in bed, absolutely and you have to listen to your body. The more active I stayed the better I felt and I had to keep going for my family. Lucky for me I fought cancer through a pandemic & quarantine so I had PLENTY of time to walk!! These are just a few things I thought I would share to help educate and spread awareness. Pink ribbons & fuzzy aside, if you truly want to honor someone who has fought breast cancer or who is currently fighting, then schedule a mammogram and encourage everyone around you to do the same. That is what truly matters and what makes the biggest difference. Early detection is key. Treatment and research have come a long way even though we still have a WAYS to go. Keep fighting, keep getting your mammograms and most of all KEEP LIVING your LIFE 💗
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Reposted from Busy Beauties If you're here, you might be asking yourself: "Should I be using retinol?" Maybe you spent your youth basking in the sun and now you're skin is paying the price or maybe your skin is just aging faster than you are! The short answer is yes! Ask any dermatologist what you need to fight aging and they’ll tell you: Sunscreen and Retinol. In this post, we discuss what you need to know about retinol - the magical unicorn of skin care. So, what is Retinol? Retinol, aka retinoic acid, or retinoid, is derived from Vitamin A. It helps your skin turnover to make way for new, young cells, which ultimately decreases the appearance of those pesky fine lines and wrinkles, make large pores appear smaller, even out skin texture, improve blotchiness, and dark spots… it also prevents collagen from breaking down, helps fight acne, and protects from the sun’s damaging free radicals! Umm, yes please! I mean, why would you NOT use this? With all these benefits, anyone over 30 should definitely be using it. I have even heard some dermatologists say that it’s never too early to start using a retinol product! Is there anyone who shouldn't use it? Yes! As an OB, I definitely need to point out that, as amazing as retinol is, it should NOT be used during pregnancy.
Are there any side effects? What can I do to minimize them? Over the counter preparations such as ours, are typically slow release and don’t have the nasty side effects that you see with prescription doses, which are much higher concentration and delivered all at once. Some users might still notice some skin sensitivity after using it, such as redness, mild flaking or peeling at first but with continued use, their skin will usually adapt and those effects should go away. If you have sensitive skin or notice some sensitivity when using retinol, try easing into it, by starting with 3 times a week and increase as you tolerate it. It can also cause your skin to be sensitive in sunlight so sunscreen is a must. Not to mention, sun damage is the biggest cause of aging skin, so you want to protect it well! So when should I expect to see results?
It takes about 3-6 months of nightly use to notice a difference with over the counter retinol creams, shorter if you have a prescription dose. As you can see, there is a reason retinol is so widely used and recommended by all the professionals. If you want more youthful skin, retinol (and sunscreen, of course) is a MUST. Give it a try - it might just be your secret to younger looking skin! If you are looking for an awesome retinol formula, amazing gentle exfoliating cleanser, light moisturizer, or sunscreen, check out Busy Beauties skin care products! Reposted from Busy Beauties The average woman will spend 40 minutes per day fixing their hair… that’s 10 days or 240 hours lost per year FIXING HAIR… according to a poll done by European professional haircare company fabriah.com. And 75% of that time is spent drying and styling. Not only is that a lot of time you have to spent on your hair that you could be doing something much more fun (like sleep, amiright?), that is a LOT of heat for your hair to endure. How does all that heat affect your hair? Direct heat with the high temperatures encountered using dryers and styling irons can be very traumatic to your hair, destroying proteins and eliminating its natural oils. This will cause cracks in the hair cuticle, which can lead to loss of moisture, frizz, split ends, and broken strands of hair. It can also fade your (natural or artificial) color, cause it to be weaker, less elastic, and less shiny! The more chemically treated (permed, colored, etc) your hair is, the worse the effects seem to be. I think I can safely presume NO woman wants to destroy the thing we spend so much time and money trying to make beautiful. So what can you do about it? Well, there are a couple things (besides not fix your hair at all) you can do to still have great hair without killing it by styling every day.
The top one is pretty self explanatory… and we’ll discuss how you can look great and style your hair less often at the end of this post. The second is a little more difficult because you have to know what your’e looking for. First, let’s talk about heat protectants in general. What are they? Heat protectants are polymers that are able to remain strong and flexible in high temperatures and act as a barrier between your styling tool and your hair. This helps to seal in moisture, prevent damage, fight off frizz, and boost shine. Think of it as the hair equivalent of sunscreen! What are the different types and what should you look for in your product? They can be water-based or water-resistant (silicones or oils). Water based products such as polyquaterniums and acrylate copolymers form a film on the hair to protect it but don’t perform quite as well with high temperatures when used alone as the water resistant silicones such as dimethicone. So, if the water resistant silicones work so well, why are some people saying to avoid them? There are a couple reasons. Some silicones it can be heavy and weigh your hair down, and they can also build up with time because of the fact that they are not soluble in water. BUT, if used in combination with another silicone called cyclopentasiloxane, the heavier silicones are more spread out, taking away that heavy feeling. And all that talk about build up? All you need to do is wash with a good shampoo that has a gentle surfactant to break it up such as cocamidopropyl betaine. As busy women, we want great hair but we also want healthy hair. We get that. That’s why when we were researching ingredients to use in our product, we made sure that we were using the best heat protection. By combining FOUR heat protecting polymers plus an oil and other natural extracts, we got a product that gives long-lasting style while also protecting your hair. You fix your hair less and use heat protection, which lessens all that would-be damage… and you get some of those lost hours back!
5/16/2018 2 Comments THE IMPORTANCE OF GIRLFRIENDSBy Monica THE IMPORTANCE OF GIRLFRIENDS |
| My sweet family. Aren't they cute? |
These are all solid reasons why I have said no to a girls dinner or night out in the past. You see, I have 3 boys who play every sport you can think of and a husband who travels most weekdays (and 2 dogs…its like a zoo around here). My sisters and I are working on a start-up company and my entire extended family lives five hours away. I am so tired! And I am not the only one, I am the norm. A normal, overworked, under-appreciated, tired mom. Of course, I love my boys! I honestly enjoy them and some might even say I brag about them a little too much. But damn, they wear me out!!
So, this is where my girlfriends come into play. Before I can tell you how awesome they are, and how they honestly make me a happier person, I need to start from the beginning. I met these girls years ago in college, and man did we have fun together. From date parties to spring break to summer getaways. But then college ended. We got married and started having children (lots of children!!) and well, life got in the way and my girl time became nonexistent. Don’t get me wrong, I was still happy, but I had completely lost my identity. I was known as the mom with 3 boys. We were all feeling the same way, but too tired and too busy to change anything.
One day, we were texting and decide to get together for a dinner. A “reunion” we called it. I had to get a sitter, arrange dinner early, shower in the middle of the day and put on something beside my workout clothes. It took so much planning that I almost backed out. When we got to dinner, we ordered a bottle of wine and had REAL talk. Not small talk or the “everything is fine” conversation, but the “I think I’m losing my mind” kind of talk. We laughed and talked so much that night that none of us wanted to leave. We closed the place down and vowed to do a girls dinner every month. Slowly, I started to feel like the old me again. | Time with my girls helps me stay sane in the chaos of it all. |
By carving out some time with my girls, I felt less isolated and more capable of handling the curveballs life throws at me. I realized we are ALL going through major life stuff in just our little group… the loss of Kellie’s brother, divorce of parents, loss of jobs (or husband jobs), loss of family members, and miscarriages… and we lean on each other so much during those times. Of course it’s not all venting and crying with each other. We have celebrated a lot of amazing things too: marriages, the births of our 12 children, promotions, new homes, birthdays… We celebrate everything!! I’m not kidding, we find an excuse to celebrate even the smallest things. I think that is also important. Life is too hard to overlook the small wins. I know that there are some really big things are in our future and I will be needing them even more… for hugs, to get me out of the house, to listen to me vent, and of course… to celebrate!
They also remind me of who I was before…. Before all of our growing responsibilities, when I was care free and young at heart. Before I was a wife. Before I was a mom. Before I was starting my own company. Just before. I think everyone needs to be reminded of their inner child. To dance till your feet hurt and laugh till your sides hurt. To be able to talk about anything and not feel judged. To start the night off crying over yet another miscarriage and end the night winning another dance off. My girls bring out the best in me and they remind me to be me!!
I have read countless of articles about the importance of girlfriends. I have even printed a few and placed them on my husband’s computer a few times. Happy wife = Happy life! How girls who hang out with friends are happier, less depressed, have more energy. I cannot agree more!
So here is my challenge to you: Call up an old friend (or 5) and get together for a “reunion.” Then be REAL!! You will be so glad you did!
They say you are an average of the five people you hang around with the most. Man, did I get lucky.
To MY girls: I remember the day I told you all in Broken Bow that I was starting a business with my sisters. I didn’t have all the details worked out and I was extremely out of my comfort zone. I was fumbling through my “business plan” you went around the table figuring out ways you all could help, I teared up. You didn’t care if it was a perfect business plan, you just focused on how we would do this together!!! I am a better person because of YOU! I love you all! To Kellie; my soccer star tomboy who knows how to truly live. To Kendy: my ride or die who is always along for the ride To Tam: my girl with the best dance moves and a heart of solid gold To Jill: my sweet girl who is just as beautiful on the inside as out… (closet smart too) |
Follow my start-up company progress on Instagram at 3 Crazy Sisters.
Follow the Fab Five Chicks on Instagram for highlights of our latest shenanigans!
By Katie
Getting an epidural in labor is a personal choice. I am going to give you the reasons I chose to get one that you may not have considered.
As an OB, I have this conversation often, so I thought it could be useful to the masses (or at least the 10 people who might read it).
First time mamas: be forewarned, I am discussing topics that may freak you out if you haven’t heard about them already.
As an OB, I have this conversation often, so I thought it could be useful to the masses (or at least the 10 people who might read it).
First time mamas: be forewarned, I am discussing topics that may freak you out if you haven’t heard about them already.
- Lacerations. Many women tear, especially if it’s your first baby. Usually it’s a small to average tear (see 1st or 2nd degree laceration, if you want to learn more). Sometimes it’s a really big tear… like all the way through your rectum (see 3rd or 4th degree laceration). Those need to be put back together. Putting that back together can take a lot of time… and needles… around your rear end. It’s really nice when you don’t feel that and you can enjoy your new baby while you’re doctor is hard at work on the puzzle that is your vagina.
- Shoulder Dystocia. This is when your baby’s shoulders are so big that they get stuck after the baby’s head comes out. This is a medical emergency and requires some (usually painful) maneuvers to help get the baby out. You being relaxed and comfortable can really help it go quicker and help restore oxygen to your baby's brain.
- Postpartum Hemorrhage. Your uterus’s job after delivering your baby and placenta is to continue contracting so you won’t bleed too much. Sometimes after delivery, your uterus is as tired as you are. It stops doing its job and you bleed. If you bleed too much, your doctor may need to do an exam where they literally have their arm inserted up to their elbow in your vagina to help get the bleeding to stop. It’s nice for both of you if you can’t feel your bottom half while that’s happening.
- Emergency C-Section. That is obviously never the goal, but is a real possibility, no matter who you are. If you don’t have an epidural, there is often no time for regional anesthesia (spinal or epidural) and that means you go to sleep. Intubated, sedated, and asleep. You can’t have anyone in the operating room with you (husband/boyfriend/baby daddy/girlfriend/mom/dad/sister/friend… no one). You can’t see your baby fresh out of the oven (usually not until hours later). Not to mention, general anesthesia is riskier to you and the baby. If you already have an epidural (and it’s working well), they give you a higher dose of medicine, and you can be awake and have your “person” in the operating room with you.
- THE PAIN! Ok... so, those WERE my 4 reasons until I had my 3rd baby. As an OB, those were my biggest fears because I see them. I always figured I could handle whatever pain came with labor. I have seen many women do it with such grace and even smiles on their faces (something I will admittedly never understand). Insert baby #3. I had been contracting on and off for weeks (the anticipation is the worst part, amiright?). Then my water broke at home. Finally… it was time. The contractions I had in that car ride to the hospital finally taught me what my 10/10 pain was. You could have swung a baseball bat at me and I don’t think I would have hurt more. I got my epidural and delivered like 15 minutes later. #worthit. Turns out labor hurts and/or I’m a big wimp.
That smile is at the peak of a contraction. Zero pain.
Bonus! The nap after an epidural is glorious. Labor is exhausting, so that rest can be really helpful! Both my husband and I were very disappointed we missed out on this bonus with baby #3. Good thing he’s cute.
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1/8/2018 2 Comments
Dear Old Skinny Me...
By Andrea Moscoso
I have not seen you in years. And honest to God, I do think about you almost daily. Every day my hips, which once shimmied into a size 0 or 2 jeans, reprimand me for tightly filling my barely size 6 almost 8 work pants. The memory of your toned and tiny arms is greeted by the jiggle of my triceps as I wave at you in the far distance. I barely recognize the once upon a time tight stomach I loved to show off in bikinis and crop tops (yeah...crop tops) and now is hidden beneath rolls and silky loose shirts. And I am yet waiting to see the belly disappear, 5 years later from the birth of my child.
But when I remember you, freely frolicking on the beaches and night spots of South Florida, I see the sadness, fear, loneliness and doubt behind your smile. You thought of yourself as confident and you felt beautiful but you WERE petrified of life and of being who you are.
I sometimes judge you harshly as someone who was very narcissistic and self-centered. Or I yell at you in my memory, for being reckless and out of focus. For not realizing everything you have always been and not recognizing your value. I judge you for giving yourself always too easily, heart, body and soul. For unknowingly waiting for someone else to make your life ok, or even safe from your fears of inadequacy. Perhaps you hoped someone else could restore the faith and belief in yourself.
And then I pause- and I see you for you. And it’s not the size of your pants I miss. I miss the certain degree of creativity and spontaneity that came as part of the lack of focus. I miss the sense of adventure that accompanied the recklessness. I miss the naivety and innocence that held your hand as you easily opened your heart. And all in all, you were also courageous and loving and so free. And I miss you. And ok...maybe the size 2 jeans a little bit too.
I sometimes judge you harshly as someone who was very narcissistic and self-centered. Or I yell at you in my memory, for being reckless and out of focus. For not realizing everything you have always been and not recognizing your value. I judge you for giving yourself always too easily, heart, body and soul. For unknowingly waiting for someone else to make your life ok, or even safe from your fears of inadequacy. Perhaps you hoped someone else could restore the faith and belief in yourself.
And then I pause- and I see you for you. And it’s not the size of your pants I miss. I miss the certain degree of creativity and spontaneity that came as part of the lack of focus. I miss the sense of adventure that accompanied the recklessness. I miss the naivety and innocence that held your hand as you easily opened your heart. And all in all, you were also courageous and loving and so free. And I miss you. And ok...maybe the size 2 jeans a little bit too.
It’s taken a very tricky road, filled with monsters to battle and challenges to overcome, to realize, my dear old self, that all along you were your own champion. Along this road, you began to understand you were the only one responsible for making your life whole and that looking for others to make you happy is a fruitless pursuit.
I clearly remember the moment you had enough of “mistakes happening” and you walked away from a Champagne and loneliness infused scene filled with wrong turns.
Little did you know that there would be a rough road ahead filled with turmoil, heartache and illness- but more importantly- filled with blessings, lessons and miracles. It took a lot for you to see it differently- a nasty divorce, single motherhood and beating cancer kind of hard. Yet you’ve always been stubborn so you can’t be surprised at life hitting you in the head with a pan to have you pay attention and wake up. And wake up you did. So here I am writing to you. Because in this life I have now, as much as I tried to shove you to the back corner of my soul, I realize I very much need you.
My life has become so rigid. My shoulders have learned to carry a lot. But I lost you along the way. I can say I am pretty responsible: I have a mortgage and bills I pay on time, I work hard, drive my kid around to activities, take care of my pup, try to empower my child to grow to be a decent and kind adult and keep the wheels spinning and the engine moving in my “responsible” adult life.
But my “responsible” life barely holds space for me at all.
I clearly remember the moment you had enough of “mistakes happening” and you walked away from a Champagne and loneliness infused scene filled with wrong turns.
Little did you know that there would be a rough road ahead filled with turmoil, heartache and illness- but more importantly- filled with blessings, lessons and miracles. It took a lot for you to see it differently- a nasty divorce, single motherhood and beating cancer kind of hard. Yet you’ve always been stubborn so you can’t be surprised at life hitting you in the head with a pan to have you pay attention and wake up. And wake up you did. So here I am writing to you. Because in this life I have now, as much as I tried to shove you to the back corner of my soul, I realize I very much need you.
My life has become so rigid. My shoulders have learned to carry a lot. But I lost you along the way. I can say I am pretty responsible: I have a mortgage and bills I pay on time, I work hard, drive my kid around to activities, take care of my pup, try to empower my child to grow to be a decent and kind adult and keep the wheels spinning and the engine moving in my “responsible” adult life.
But my “responsible” life barely holds space for me at all.
I am finding a way to reconnect this new me I’ve uncovered with the great parts of who you are.
Sure, now I have somewhat better, or rather less self sabotaging, habits in a way. But not in others (do I really need to reach into the pantry for snacks when I get anxious?? Better than partying my ass off, I guess). But I miss the healthy things we used to do.
I mean, is it really healthy to not go to yoga because I can’t make time or find energy? Or to have stopped doing things I love because I can’t fit them in my “schedule”?
So this is why I am writing to you. I am invoking the good parts of you back into our life.
I want to marry the wisdom I’ve hard-earned these last few years with your zest for life and your curiosity. I want to blend that respect and reverence I reserve for that intimate part of my heart with the openness and passion you had when you fell in Love. I want to honor myself and take care of my body as you did when you worked out and ate healthy. And teach you to find stillness in your mind and peace in your heart.
Sure, now I have somewhat better, or rather less self sabotaging, habits in a way. But not in others (do I really need to reach into the pantry for snacks when I get anxious?? Better than partying my ass off, I guess). But I miss the healthy things we used to do.
I mean, is it really healthy to not go to yoga because I can’t make time or find energy? Or to have stopped doing things I love because I can’t fit them in my “schedule”?
So this is why I am writing to you. I am invoking the good parts of you back into our life.
I want to marry the wisdom I’ve hard-earned these last few years with your zest for life and your curiosity. I want to blend that respect and reverence I reserve for that intimate part of my heart with the openness and passion you had when you fell in Love. I want to honor myself and take care of my body as you did when you worked out and ate healthy. And teach you to find stillness in your mind and peace in your heart.
So let’s make a deal: I give you the whole best of me now, as I bring back the whole best of you then. It will be a new adventure for us.
And I am ok with not being a size zero or two. I will settle for healthy, fit and happy with sizeable life measured in love given, dreams and purpose fulfilled and lives touched.
So welcome back- it’s time to grow on.
And I am ok with not being a size zero or two. I will settle for healthy, fit and happy with sizeable life measured in love given, dreams and purpose fulfilled and lives touched.
So welcome back- it’s time to grow on.
Author
Andrea is a believer of intention, possibility and action. Originally from Ecuador and a long-time South Florida resident, Andrea works full time with her family in Real Estate and enjoys connecting with and supporting her clients and her team to achieve their home goals. Andrea loves yoga and holds various certifications including a Y4C (Yoga 4 Cancer) certification. She has always loved to write as a way to express herself. Her main goal in life is to teach her daughter, by example, to create an empowered life and choose her own version of “happy”.
10/25/2017 1 Comment
Be Brave, Stand Courageous!
STANDING UP AGAINST DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND ABUSE
I believe all women are brave. I believe all women are courageous. We are all fighting a good fight by battling obstacles in our everyday lives. Women find a way to persevere and get it all done. The reason I am sharing my 10-year-long story on domestic violence within my home and family is to possibly help one woman out there who doesn’t know where to turn. I want to get through to one mother, daughter, aunt, co-worker, friend or neighbor who could possibly be experiencing a situation similar to mine. As a survivor of Domestic Violence, I want to create awareness and put domestic violence and abuse on people’s minds. I want this to be a topic of conversation so we can educate others about the statistics in our counties, states and nation. If we join together, we can teach others about signs of domestic violence and help those experiencing it find ways to get out of their dangerous situation.
This October marks the 30th anniversary of Domestic Violence Month. When Monica approached me to write my survivor story, I thought this was the most appropriate time for me to put my story out there. I want to offer words of encouragement for those who are presently going through their own battle with domestic violence, and enlighten members of our communities around Texas and our great nation about possible warning signs to watch for. You can be brave and stand courageous against your abuser... you have to!
I believe all women are brave. I believe all women are courageous. We are all fighting a good fight by battling obstacles in our everyday lives. Women find a way to persevere and get it all done. The reason I am sharing my 10-year-long story on domestic violence within my home and family is to possibly help one woman out there who doesn’t know where to turn. I want to get through to one mother, daughter, aunt, co-worker, friend or neighbor who could possibly be experiencing a situation similar to mine. As a survivor of Domestic Violence, I want to create awareness and put domestic violence and abuse on people’s minds. I want this to be a topic of conversation so we can educate others about the statistics in our counties, states and nation. If we join together, we can teach others about signs of domestic violence and help those experiencing it find ways to get out of their dangerous situation.
This October marks the 30th anniversary of Domestic Violence Month. When Monica approached me to write my survivor story, I thought this was the most appropriate time for me to put my story out there. I want to offer words of encouragement for those who are presently going through their own battle with domestic violence, and enlighten members of our communities around Texas and our great nation about possible warning signs to watch for. You can be brave and stand courageous against your abuser... you have to!
My story of abuse began with my high school boyfriend. I had only known him a few months before we started dating. Within the first couple months, I realized he was manipulative with his friends and myself and he was controlling towards me. I believed he was controlling “out of love”. His personality was strong-willed, somewhat jealous, and he liked be the center of attention. But, he was also charming when he wanted to be. It was about 4 months into our relationship when he first spit in my face and pushed me into the brick wall of my house. My 8-year-old brother walked out and witnessed this. I can never take that image away from my little brother. I can only imagine how frightened and upset he must have been. This is the day I should have walked away from that boy and never looked back. Our friends started noticing that we were arguing all the time. My girlfriends would encourage me to leave him and he, of course, did not like me listening to their negative comments. However, he had control over me. I felt like I could “fix” his anger issues and I would be able to demand that he respect me.
We had a small break when I went off to college, but not for long; he followed me to my University. In no time at all he was controlling everything I did. Controlling who my friends were, with whom I could hang out, when I had to call him, etc. The physical abuse worsened in college, too. My abuser was cunning. He would do things like pull my hair, twist my arms behind my back, shove me down to the floor, bang his fist on our apartment door until my roommates and I were so scared, we answered. It all started small… scary, but small compared to where it lead.
During 5 long years of college break-ups and make-ups, I was officially robbed of my spirit. I lost it and I still don’t know where it is. He worked so hard to destroy the person my parents raised me to be. I didn’t like the person I was. I often prayed to find a way out of this toxic, abusive relationship but there was no way I could do it alone. I needed God’s help. Certainly, He showed many ways for me to leave, I just ignored them because I was convinced I could change him and save him.
That high school and college boyfriend became my husband. I know. I married him. I knew it was wrong when I walked down that isle. I didn’t even make it through the wedding night before I was physically abused and made to sleep on the hotel floor with my wedding dress as a blanket. I can’t even remember all the thoughts running through my head that night. I felt alone and afraid in this big world. I just remember praying all night long for God not to leave my side and for Him to guide me through it.
We had a small break when I went off to college, but not for long; he followed me to my University. In no time at all he was controlling everything I did. Controlling who my friends were, with whom I could hang out, when I had to call him, etc. The physical abuse worsened in college, too. My abuser was cunning. He would do things like pull my hair, twist my arms behind my back, shove me down to the floor, bang his fist on our apartment door until my roommates and I were so scared, we answered. It all started small… scary, but small compared to where it lead.
During 5 long years of college break-ups and make-ups, I was officially robbed of my spirit. I lost it and I still don’t know where it is. He worked so hard to destroy the person my parents raised me to be. I didn’t like the person I was. I often prayed to find a way out of this toxic, abusive relationship but there was no way I could do it alone. I needed God’s help. Certainly, He showed many ways for me to leave, I just ignored them because I was convinced I could change him and save him.
That high school and college boyfriend became my husband. I know. I married him. I knew it was wrong when I walked down that isle. I didn’t even make it through the wedding night before I was physically abused and made to sleep on the hotel floor with my wedding dress as a blanket. I can’t even remember all the thoughts running through my head that night. I felt alone and afraid in this big world. I just remember praying all night long for God not to leave my side and for Him to guide me through it.
We got back from our honeymoon and things went from bad to worse. Now, my new husband felt as though it was his obligation to keep me in “order”. The very first time he felt I spent too much money, he came into the bathroom where I was taking a bath, grabbed my hair, dunked my head under water and held it under for a few seconds. Screaming and cursing at me, he finally let go. That was the first time I was truly scared for my life. I realized that I was no match for this 6’4” and 260 lbs. man. Over the next 2 years, there were a series of busted lips, bruised cheeks, bruised arms, and a lot of missing special occasions for friends because I could not hide the bruises or bloody lips.
Then finally, some joy! We had our son! My son was 2 weeks old when I had him swaddled up in a blanket. My predator was yelling at me for something and when I didn’t pay any attention to him, he was angered. While holding my 2-week-old son swaddled in my arms, he backhanded me on my face. I knew there was no stopping him and he wasn’t going to stop himself. I even moved out several times, but he would always profess his “Great Love” and become obsessed with getting me back. I always gave him another chance. That is where I was so wrong. The codepency is what he needed and it was what I had learned to need, too. I was so beat down emotionally, I truly believed him when he told me no one else would take me and that I would amount to nothing.
Our lives kept marching on. We had our lives with each other, and different one in front of all our friends and family. No one realized that he was abusive. No one. Not even my family knew. They knew he was narcissistic and possessive, but I never let on that I was hiding a secret. Finally, after 9 years of ups and downs, our lives were crumbling… so heavy with heartache and irrefutable damage that I felt as though I could not breathe. Close to the Christmas Holiday, he abruptly stormed into my home office demanding that I give him money. When I declined his request for cash, he got so angry he kicked over my chair with me in it. I knew right then that this would end badly. I slowly got up from the floor and limped down the hallway to a chair in the family room to get away from him, but he followed me and started to beat the side of my head over and over again. That was the moment I knew that I would never stay with this monster again. Everything we had was dead. He was relentless. I headed for my kitchen where he threw me into the kitchen island and down into a chair. This terrible act of violence lasted for close to an hour and I somehow ended up in my son’s room. There, I was put in a forward chokehold until I faked passing out so he would let me go. I was crying, I was begging for him to stop, but it only seemed to enrage him more. Finally, he just stopped. I had stopped defending myself because my body was hurting to badly. He then walked over my shaking body on the floor to get himself a soda from the media room. Seconds later, he walked back over my body, down the stairs and out the door.
I was brave and courageous this time. It took me a decade to find it within me. I called my mom and told her everything. I threw random stuff in bags, grabbed the kids and we left that house. I did not even have my wallet with me and my kids had no shoes on their feet. But we were out. I went down to my family’s home in South Texas and as a family we worked through the situation. This marked the beginning of our new life.
From here I’d like to say that I would be nowhere with the constant love, support and council from my family. My entire family formed a bond around me and the kids like I never knew was possible. Together, we worked through this whole nightmare and joined together on taking care of the kids and getting them into counseling. I am proud to say I that was brave and courageous enough to stand firm with the state’s prosecution and have my abuser convicted for one of the assault crimes. He went to prison for 6 months and is serving probation for 10 years.
It has been a long fight since 2015. It’s been a longer fight since the day I met my ex-husband. I believe with time, things will get better.
They already have!
Then finally, some joy! We had our son! My son was 2 weeks old when I had him swaddled up in a blanket. My predator was yelling at me for something and when I didn’t pay any attention to him, he was angered. While holding my 2-week-old son swaddled in my arms, he backhanded me on my face. I knew there was no stopping him and he wasn’t going to stop himself. I even moved out several times, but he would always profess his “Great Love” and become obsessed with getting me back. I always gave him another chance. That is where I was so wrong. The codepency is what he needed and it was what I had learned to need, too. I was so beat down emotionally, I truly believed him when he told me no one else would take me and that I would amount to nothing.
Our lives kept marching on. We had our lives with each other, and different one in front of all our friends and family. No one realized that he was abusive. No one. Not even my family knew. They knew he was narcissistic and possessive, but I never let on that I was hiding a secret. Finally, after 9 years of ups and downs, our lives were crumbling… so heavy with heartache and irrefutable damage that I felt as though I could not breathe. Close to the Christmas Holiday, he abruptly stormed into my home office demanding that I give him money. When I declined his request for cash, he got so angry he kicked over my chair with me in it. I knew right then that this would end badly. I slowly got up from the floor and limped down the hallway to a chair in the family room to get away from him, but he followed me and started to beat the side of my head over and over again. That was the moment I knew that I would never stay with this monster again. Everything we had was dead. He was relentless. I headed for my kitchen where he threw me into the kitchen island and down into a chair. This terrible act of violence lasted for close to an hour and I somehow ended up in my son’s room. There, I was put in a forward chokehold until I faked passing out so he would let me go. I was crying, I was begging for him to stop, but it only seemed to enrage him more. Finally, he just stopped. I had stopped defending myself because my body was hurting to badly. He then walked over my shaking body on the floor to get himself a soda from the media room. Seconds later, he walked back over my body, down the stairs and out the door.
I was brave and courageous this time. It took me a decade to find it within me. I called my mom and told her everything. I threw random stuff in bags, grabbed the kids and we left that house. I did not even have my wallet with me and my kids had no shoes on their feet. But we were out. I went down to my family’s home in South Texas and as a family we worked through the situation. This marked the beginning of our new life.
From here I’d like to say that I would be nowhere with the constant love, support and council from my family. My entire family formed a bond around me and the kids like I never knew was possible. Together, we worked through this whole nightmare and joined together on taking care of the kids and getting them into counseling. I am proud to say I that was brave and courageous enough to stand firm with the state’s prosecution and have my abuser convicted for one of the assault crimes. He went to prison for 6 months and is serving probation for 10 years.
It has been a long fight since 2015. It’s been a longer fight since the day I met my ex-husband. I believe with time, things will get better.
They already have!
The “Go Purple” campaign and Domestic Violence Awareness Month – October is so important. There are so many programs and support groups like prevention programs and housing programs among a few, that can assist victims and families. Anyone can go to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence for information or Futures Without Violence for more information.
State Statistics: Texas Council on Family Violence
According to the TCFV, knowing the facts is the first step in supporting victims of domestic violence. There were 146 women killed in Texas in 2016 by a male intimate partner and 1 out of 3 Texans will experience domestic violence in their lifetime. The National Domestic Violence Hotline, Love is Respect received 995 calls from Texas in 2016.
Victims can call, chat or text to that hotline for assistance.
1-800-799-7233
1-800-787-3224 (TTY for Deaf/hard of hearing)
In a single day, 1,539 requests for services were unmet because of lack of resources. This is disturbing, because once a victim has obtained the bravery and courage to leave a violent and hostile relationship with her children; they could be turned away from resources because of lack of funding.
In closing, I hope these words have helped someone out there who might be hurting, knows someone that might be hurting, or who just wants to get involved. Other victims’ stories of bravery and courage encourage me everyday.
You are strong. You are brave. You are courageous. You are worth it.
-A Domestic Violence Survivor
***Additional resources will be added below as recommended by our readers. Please know that they are not affiliated with our website but may be helpful for those looking for resources. Let us know if you know of any other good resources so we can add them!
www.drugrehab.com/guides/domestic-abuse/
State Statistics: Texas Council on Family Violence
According to the TCFV, knowing the facts is the first step in supporting victims of domestic violence. There were 146 women killed in Texas in 2016 by a male intimate partner and 1 out of 3 Texans will experience domestic violence in their lifetime. The National Domestic Violence Hotline, Love is Respect received 995 calls from Texas in 2016.
Victims can call, chat or text to that hotline for assistance.
1-800-799-7233
1-800-787-3224 (TTY for Deaf/hard of hearing)
In a single day, 1,539 requests for services were unmet because of lack of resources. This is disturbing, because once a victim has obtained the bravery and courage to leave a violent and hostile relationship with her children; they could be turned away from resources because of lack of funding.
In closing, I hope these words have helped someone out there who might be hurting, knows someone that might be hurting, or who just wants to get involved. Other victims’ stories of bravery and courage encourage me everyday.
You are strong. You are brave. You are courageous. You are worth it.
-A Domestic Violence Survivor
***Additional resources will be added below as recommended by our readers. Please know that they are not affiliated with our website but may be helpful for those looking for resources. Let us know if you know of any other good resources so we can add them!
www.drugrehab.com/guides/domestic-abuse/
About the Author
By Monica:
The author is one of my good friends from college. We have been friends for over 20 years. She is ready to share her story in hopes that it will help others, but she is not ready to put a name or picture to her story. This is her journey. If she ever changes her mind I will be happy to update this, but I fully respect her decision. She has 2 beautiful children to protect and her abuser was recently released from prison. The thing about this story that personally hurts me is that I had no idea what my good friend was going through. I had no idea he ever touched her!! Not until the day she put some of her belongings in trash bags and disappeared with the kids. She landed at her dad’s ranch where he helped her get back to her new normal. It has been a crazy 2 years for my dear friend. She has battled demons of her own but she is now stronger than ever!!! I’m so proud of her and I am lucky enough to call this survivor my friend!
10/6/2017 1 Comment
So, you have a birth plan...
By Katie
You are preparing to have your sweet new addition. You have prepared the nursery, researched diapers, car seats, and breastfeeding, probably have an app (or two) reminding you of how your baby has grown, comparing your baby each week to a fruit or vegetable… and reminding you of all the things you need to do before the big day. Now, you've reached “make a birth plan” on the to do list.
Before I go any further there are 2 things you need to know about birth plans that seem to confuse people:
1. Birth plans are not required. You don't have to print one off the internet that says a bunch of things you don't actually care about just because you think you need to turn one in. Birth is not a school assignment. Turns out, it'll happen whether or not you have a plan.
2. Birth plans are not contracts. They are a list of preferences that may or may not happen (see below).
Ok, now that we've cleared that up, we can move on to why I am really writing this....
I am an OB and I am here to tell you why you need to get over your birth plan. Before you get all huffy, I want you to know that I am not against “natural birth” or even a birth plan for that matter… and I don’t care if you have an epidural, want to sit, stand, bounce, walk, who cuts the cord (or when it's cut), or if you want to bring your own pillow. In fact, if it means you are delivering in a safe environment rather than at home where you can do nothing in an emergency situation, I will do everything I can to make your experience as ideal as possible. I would love a vaginal delivery for everyone, although that is not possible. If that were the case, “died in childbirth” would not have ever been a thing. Unfortunately, even in these times, it is still very much a thing. In fact, it may have happened to the woman in the room next door to you. And you should know that every loss is taken personally by the doctors and nurses involved.
What I do care about, is when things don’t go as you had planned (and by the way, they often don’t), you act as though the doctor/nurse/hospital wronged you on purpose. No one I work with would ever want that for a patient. We want your experience to be that magical moment you have dreamed of. What I want you to understand is that sometimes your requests are not possible. It cannot cause your (or other’s) care to be unsafe. We have to be prepared for the emergencies that can happen. That usually means an IV (not necessarily fluids), taking vital signs periodically, getting heart tones periodically, and sometimes that means more intervention. No matter how “low risk” you are, you can still have a catastrophic outcome (see postpartum hemorrhage, shoulder dystocia, prolapsed umbilical cord, chorioamnionitis, breech/transverse/face presentation). So much can go wrong in childbirth. Why would you risk your life or your baby’s life just because it is not what you planned or pictured?
As obstetricians, we go through 4 years of college, 4 years of medical school, and 4 years of residency. We do hundreds upon hundreds of deliveries. We have seen babies die. We have seen moms die. The reason we keep going is because of the lives we can save. Please do not put your internet search or opinions from friends (or strangers) above our training. Go ahead and make your birth plan, but please make your ultimate goal “a healthy baby and healthy mom.” That is my goal every day that I work on Labor and Delivery. Ultimately, it is what matters most, and it definitely isn’t guaranteed.
Before I go any further there are 2 things you need to know about birth plans that seem to confuse people:
1. Birth plans are not required. You don't have to print one off the internet that says a bunch of things you don't actually care about just because you think you need to turn one in. Birth is not a school assignment. Turns out, it'll happen whether or not you have a plan.
2. Birth plans are not contracts. They are a list of preferences that may or may not happen (see below).
Ok, now that we've cleared that up, we can move on to why I am really writing this....
I am an OB and I am here to tell you why you need to get over your birth plan. Before you get all huffy, I want you to know that I am not against “natural birth” or even a birth plan for that matter… and I don’t care if you have an epidural, want to sit, stand, bounce, walk, who cuts the cord (or when it's cut), or if you want to bring your own pillow. In fact, if it means you are delivering in a safe environment rather than at home where you can do nothing in an emergency situation, I will do everything I can to make your experience as ideal as possible. I would love a vaginal delivery for everyone, although that is not possible. If that were the case, “died in childbirth” would not have ever been a thing. Unfortunately, even in these times, it is still very much a thing. In fact, it may have happened to the woman in the room next door to you. And you should know that every loss is taken personally by the doctors and nurses involved.
What I do care about, is when things don’t go as you had planned (and by the way, they often don’t), you act as though the doctor/nurse/hospital wronged you on purpose. No one I work with would ever want that for a patient. We want your experience to be that magical moment you have dreamed of. What I want you to understand is that sometimes your requests are not possible. It cannot cause your (or other’s) care to be unsafe. We have to be prepared for the emergencies that can happen. That usually means an IV (not necessarily fluids), taking vital signs periodically, getting heart tones periodically, and sometimes that means more intervention. No matter how “low risk” you are, you can still have a catastrophic outcome (see postpartum hemorrhage, shoulder dystocia, prolapsed umbilical cord, chorioamnionitis, breech/transverse/face presentation). So much can go wrong in childbirth. Why would you risk your life or your baby’s life just because it is not what you planned or pictured?
As obstetricians, we go through 4 years of college, 4 years of medical school, and 4 years of residency. We do hundreds upon hundreds of deliveries. We have seen babies die. We have seen moms die. The reason we keep going is because of the lives we can save. Please do not put your internet search or opinions from friends (or strangers) above our training. Go ahead and make your birth plan, but please make your ultimate goal “a healthy baby and healthy mom.” That is my goal every day that I work on Labor and Delivery. Ultimately, it is what matters most, and it definitely isn’t guaranteed.
By: Kellie Matijasevic
When I was 26, my younger brother, who was my only sibling, died. The day the phone rang at 5am on June 25th, 2006 was the most impactful day of my life. In the fog of “is this real”, “am I dreaming”, “are they sure” turned into a state of shock. Ironically, the rest of my life would then be measured by before Christopher and after Christopher.
B.C.
He was the ultimate sidekick of my childhood. The only other person who knew what it was like to grow up with our specific parents, in our particular house. His laugh was contagious. His heart was genuine. His personality was fulfilling.
Sixteen months apart, his friends were my friends and my friends were his friends. I played soccer, he played soccer. It was an unspoken respect for each other. We both had different perspectives and facets of sibling protection. It was awesome. He was awesome.
I would go on to college at Texas Tech in Lubbock. He would go on to college at UCSB in Santa Barbara, of course. He was the smart overachieving kind of little brother. Student body president, homecoming king, fraternity president, law student, hot girlfriends, tons of friends, you name it he made it happen.
B.C.
He was the ultimate sidekick of my childhood. The only other person who knew what it was like to grow up with our specific parents, in our particular house. His laugh was contagious. His heart was genuine. His personality was fulfilling.
Sixteen months apart, his friends were my friends and my friends were his friends. I played soccer, he played soccer. It was an unspoken respect for each other. We both had different perspectives and facets of sibling protection. It was awesome. He was awesome.
I would go on to college at Texas Tech in Lubbock. He would go on to college at UCSB in Santa Barbara, of course. He was the smart overachieving kind of little brother. Student body president, homecoming king, fraternity president, law student, hot girlfriends, tons of friends, you name it he made it happen.
A.C.
Everyone asks how your parents and their partner are, but everyone seems to forget about you. It’s as if you are not important. Your role is to provide support to everyone else. To plan the funeral and handle the estate because your parents simply just can’t. It’s an interesting place to be.
How was I supposed to be strong for my parents? My parents would never be the same. Neither would I.
A sibling gives you the chance to develop a relationship based on friendship with someone who has known you their whole life. I know that my relationship with my brother was changing as he died. Although he was my younger brother, his wisdom at times made him appear to be my older brother. He guided me. I guided him. I struggled that this had been taken away from me. I struggled that I would never see him get married, have children, or grow old so I could tease him about certain things we always used to joke about. I struggled he would never meet my children, I would never be an aunt to blood nieces and nephews, we would never vacation or celebrate another holiday together.
My parents would then go on to divorce. Statistics are unbelievable when it comes to marriage and the loss of a child. A near 80% divorce rate. The grief was just unbearable. My father was an alcoholic. A drunk driver killed my brother. I guess you could say it was inevitable.
The months and years to follow were intense and agonizing. My brother took his last breath crossing a street in San Diego. I lived in Dallas at the time, my parents in Albuquerque. We traveled to San Diego for every court hearing, sentencing, advocating for him. Newspaper and TV reporters interviewed me. It was an experience I never thought I would ever have. But I did.
As time went on I felt myself beginning to change. These were the life cards I was dealt. I knew the grief would never go away, but I was able to start finding a new perspective on life. A better one and it came with forgiveness. It started there anyway. It was the only way I could go on. The alternative was just too painful. From then on, I chose to hang out with the people that made me better, made me laugh and kept it real. I got rid of the negativity. I traveled, I took those chances I probably wouldn’t have taken B.C. I started truly living and with a new outlook that tomorrow may never come. Life is short. Collect the moments. I am grateful. I am grateful I had the time I did with him. I am grateful he taught me the true meaning of forgiveness. I am grateful he taught me how to live.
Everyone asks how your parents and their partner are, but everyone seems to forget about you. It’s as if you are not important. Your role is to provide support to everyone else. To plan the funeral and handle the estate because your parents simply just can’t. It’s an interesting place to be.
How was I supposed to be strong for my parents? My parents would never be the same. Neither would I.
A sibling gives you the chance to develop a relationship based on friendship with someone who has known you their whole life. I know that my relationship with my brother was changing as he died. Although he was my younger brother, his wisdom at times made him appear to be my older brother. He guided me. I guided him. I struggled that this had been taken away from me. I struggled that I would never see him get married, have children, or grow old so I could tease him about certain things we always used to joke about. I struggled he would never meet my children, I would never be an aunt to blood nieces and nephews, we would never vacation or celebrate another holiday together.
My parents would then go on to divorce. Statistics are unbelievable when it comes to marriage and the loss of a child. A near 80% divorce rate. The grief was just unbearable. My father was an alcoholic. A drunk driver killed my brother. I guess you could say it was inevitable.
The months and years to follow were intense and agonizing. My brother took his last breath crossing a street in San Diego. I lived in Dallas at the time, my parents in Albuquerque. We traveled to San Diego for every court hearing, sentencing, advocating for him. Newspaper and TV reporters interviewed me. It was an experience I never thought I would ever have. But I did.
As time went on I felt myself beginning to change. These were the life cards I was dealt. I knew the grief would never go away, but I was able to start finding a new perspective on life. A better one and it came with forgiveness. It started there anyway. It was the only way I could go on. The alternative was just too painful. From then on, I chose to hang out with the people that made me better, made me laugh and kept it real. I got rid of the negativity. I traveled, I took those chances I probably wouldn’t have taken B.C. I started truly living and with a new outlook that tomorrow may never come. Life is short. Collect the moments. I am grateful. I am grateful I had the time I did with him. I am grateful he taught me the true meaning of forgiveness. I am grateful he taught me how to live.
About the author
Kellie was an Account supervisor for ad agency and medical sales rep turned domestic Goddess. She is an amazing friend, wife, mother of 3 and daughter. Kellie and I (Monica) met 20 years ago when we both pledged the same sorority at Texas Tech. She played soccer at Tech and had a special gift of making everyone feel loved. We became instant friends. She was even a bridesmaid in my wedding back in 2001. In 2006, her brother was killed by a drunk driver. Heartbroken does not describe it - it was truly devastating. I asked Kellie to write about her loss, hoping it could help others.