health, life

The Mirena IUD: Part 1

“is there any chance this is a form of anxiety or panic disorder?”

What? If you know me personally, you know my eyebrow is raised and my face is slightly glazed over, and I’m thinking (out loud) WTF kind of question is that!?

That was the question my ENT finally asked me after “exhausting” all her choose your own adventure (remember those books?) options trying to decide why I had ongoing dizziness and episodes of vertigo.

Ummmm…You’re kidding, right?

When our youngest daughter was 18 months old I showed up in the emergency room and she was draped over my shoulder like a ragdoll. She had been sick with the flu for several days and was severely dehydrated (like I couldn’t keep her awake dehydration). I had been on the phone multiple times with the advice line and they just kept telling me all was fine. I finally decided all was not fine. I stood in line, with a feverish baby vomiting on my shirt, and stated flatly that I wasn’t leaving until they gave her fluids. They took us into the back and after taking her temperature, hooked her up to an IV. Then they admitted her and she stayed for two days. That was when I realized that you must NEVER be afraid to advocate loudly for yourself when it comes to healthcare. Cell phone cameras weren’t a thing back then, but I can still envision her toddling down the hall, in her slippers and tiny hospital gown, diaper hanging out of the gown bottom, pushing her IV stand.

Ten years ago, my husband cut off his finger in an accident. My response when I got the call? “Do you have all the pieces? I’ll meet you at the hospital. “That was it. No tears. No panic. I arranged for a sitter and drove to the hospital.

So, no, I’m not an anxious person. At least, I wasn’t…

and then I met #Mirena

This is the first in a series of posts outlining my personal experiences with the Mirena IUD. I am writing to air my anger and frustration, as well as in hope that other women searching for validation and answers and may find both here. I SEE YOU.

In 2018, at 44, I had the Mirena IUD placed to help with debilitating menstrual cycles. Periods that I now understand were likely the result of estrogen dominance. For those unfamiliar, in basic terms, estrogen dominance happens when your progesterone levels are not sufficient to keep estrogen in balance. There are variables, but most often, when a woman is estrogen dominant, it is because she is not producing quite enough progesterone. The Mirena IUD is a Progestin based contraceptive that is made from silicone. The Levonorgestrel it contains is synthetic progesterone. Truthfully, there probably should have been all kinds of red flags for me. I had been adamantly against hormonal birth control since our fist child was born, I was so desperate, I never gave the idea that it was a synthetic hormone a second thought. At the suggestion of my gynecologist (her selling point was that “the hormone dosage is small and localized in the uterus”) and after reading what information I could find online at the time, it seemed like a good fit. And it was. Until it wasn’t.

Synthetic: ADJECTIVE (of a substance) made by chemical synthesis, especially to imitate a natural product. “synthetic rubber” synonyms: fake, false, imitation, simulated, substitute, pseudo, sham, bogus, counterfeit, forged, pretend, man-made, manufactured, unnatural.

Do you see a trend here?

The thing is, I didn’t even realize what was happening until I was top of my head deep in side effects. Why? The side effects I was experiencing are really difficult to research online. In fact, the information is mostly non-existent unless you are truly willing to dig. Lucky for me, I thrive on research.

In the beginning, it seemed to good to be true, like snake oil, and I was all in. Birth control that would allow me to sail through the last few years of perimenopause and end up in menopause unscathed? Yes, please!! No cramps. No PMS. Lighter periods. No menopause misery. What’s not to like? About a year in, my periods stopped all together. Another win!


That kind of birth control doesn’t exist. The truth is, ALL birth control has positive and negative side effects. That is the one thing you can count on. The question is simply which side effects will YOU experience and to what degree. Maybe they will be minor. Maybe they will be moderate. Or maybe, they will turn your life upside down.

My side effects began slowly. I noticed the bloating right away. As though I swallowed a basketball every morning kind of bloating. I attributed it to age (mid-forties) and slower digestion and thought it probably wasn’t a bad trade for sexual freedom. There it is, one of the only true positives I can attribute to the Mirena. Lighter and ultimately non-existent periods would be the only other “positive”. Turns out, you’re probably better off if you have some semblance of a period while using the Mirena IUD. Why? You’re likely still producing enough of your own natural progesterone. Enough possibly to ward off some of the most troubling side effects.

About a year into having the Mirena (April 2019) I began to pay closer attention to a few things. My nose was breaking out (I’ve ever had acne), my sinuses were perpetually stuffy, my fingers would randomly go numb, and I periodically had bouts of minor dizziness. I was getting hot flashes at night, random heart palpitations, and feeling more distracted during the day. The tinnitus in my right ear had also become noticeably louder. The tinnitus itself wasn’t alarming, just the volume change. I had had minor hearing loss and tinnitus, since I turned 40, from what I believe was an injury to my ear. I suggested the possibility of hormonal changes to my gynecologist. She felt it was more likely a problem with my inner ear. So I emailed my primary care doctor and she suggested having an ear wash and hearing test. Again, I chalked it up to age as I trudged into perimenopause.

Around May of 2019 I began to feel like I had constant PMS. My head felt congested, I had headaches that would last 2-3 days (at my temples, but more painful on the left side), significant water retention (I couldn’t even crack my knuckles!!) and swung wildly between feelings of agitation, annoyance, frustration, hopelessness, and helplessness. Some days I was crawling out of my skin. I tried to track my cycles, but I was no longer getting my period. I remember regularly telling a few of my girlfriends “I just don’t feel like myself”.

How many of us have told our doctors that? “I just don’t feel like myself!” I know I have said it too many times to count and it was always met with versions of the same response “all your blood tests are within range”, “we don’t test hormones because they’re not reliable”, or “it’s just part of getting older”.


Seriously. Feeling like crap as we traverse “Mt. Menopause” is not a necessary part of aging. Why should it be? There are so many options out there that can assist in the transition. I’m not talking about synthetic hormone replacement. I’m talking about things like exercise, dietary adjustments, vitamins and supplements, and if necessary, bio-identical hormones. My friends ask why much of western medical protocol isn’t more pliable in this area. I think it’s pretty simple. Healthcare in America is a for profit venture, driven by pharmaceutical companies, and there is no money to be made in wellness.

More thoughts on that topic later.

During the summer of 2019 I started to notice that I was clenching my jaw more often. I had been known to grind my teeth at night, but this was different. I found myself clenching during the day too and for seemingly no reason. By the fall, I had constant pressure in my head, like a water balloon. I blamed it on allergies and all the smoke in the air from the fires in our area.

In January of 2020 we headed to Disneyland for our annual trip. Three days after we returned, all hell broke loose for me (and I’m not talking about the pandemic).

Stay tuned…



Hi. I’m back.

Three years. It has been three years since my last post.

Can you believe it?

Our world has changed a lot in those three years. Fire evacuations. Civil unrest. Political chaos. Covid uncertainties. Toilet paper hoarding…which I still cannot comprehend.

Yet (for better AND worse) so many things have stayed the same.

In my last post, I talked about feeling like I had been holding my breath for all of 2017 and the overwhelming need to exhale, and I did, for a bit.

I’m doing it again though.

Holding my breath.

Only this time I realized that I have been partially holding my breath for much of my adult life. Holding onto circumstances and emotions and stress and tension; like it was my job.

WTF…who would choose that job?

I’m weary and I’m ready for change. On so many levels, I am ready for change.

Breathe in. Hold.


Breathe in again.

In through your feet, out through your head. Deep, cleansing breaths.


Exhale. Back through your head and down through your feet.


Do you feel it? The tension and stress leaving your body. The pull toward the light. It’s there, the light at the end of the tunnel – I promise. Close the chapter.

Over the years and mostly out of necessity, I have learned patience in several areas of my life. I used to think that patience was a virtue in all things.

It. Is. NOT.

Say it again, LOUDER.


“Patience” can be procrastination and mental clutter in disguise. I wrote a post about clutter and procrastination a few years ago. You can find it here. Patience can lead to complacency. Have you felt like that before? I’ve been existing in this idle place of patience, especially the last few years. Why? It’s comfortable and when life feels overwhelming, it’s easy to retreat to the comfortable options. A false sense of contentment was my quiet hiding place. It’s easy to say that you’ll make plans, tackle a decision, or work on project next week, next month, or next year. I really wanted to blame the pandemic, but the complacency began before Covid forced itself upon us all.

The one thing 2020 did for me was bring a lot of feelings into focus.

2020 allowed me to create space to admit, out loud to myself, that I often feel like I’m existing, but not always truly living. I still cannot fully put the feelings into words that explain it all, but I think this post is a good beginning.

I don’t want to simply exist. So what now?

Go back to the basics and step forward. One foot in front of the other. I know this. I also know that it’s ok take baby steps, and to pause, but not to stop.

So that is what I’m doing.

One more time, #exhale.

Hi. I’m back.


Kicking 2017 to the curb…for the most part anyway

I have heard it repeatedly, so I know I’m not the only one gladly waving goodbye to 2017.

I didn’t make any resolutions this year. I already feel like I’ve been holding my breath for months. I see no need to add to that load of… (feel free to insert your choice of words here).


It’s not that 2017 was all bad, it wasn’t, but this year has left me mentally depleted in a way that I can’t articulate, other than to want to desperately scream “WTF is happening here?” on a fairly regular basis.


January. I went back to school and without elaborating, we had a few unexpected and very heavy emotional moments.

Spring (but really this entire year). I am not deeply invested in politics. I know, I know…but I do vote and I did take a political science class this semester. I learned how much I didn’t know about our political history and structure in the United States and that I actually find the bare bones of politics very interesting. Hmmmph. Imagine that. The 45th president (along with a lot of other politicians) has left me scratching my head and truthfully, in some instances, rolling my eyes. His Twitter feed alone is more than I can handle. I consider myself a “Democrat with a bit of a Republican lean”. Meaning? I don’t agree with everything Democrat and I don’t agree with all things Republican either. I’m an idealist I guess. In the spirit of the Constitution; can’t we all just try to get along and do what is best for our country as a whole? Some people will say that is an impossible request. Maybe it is.

Maybe not.

Moving on.

Summer. We didn’t make a lot of headway in any realm. (head·way [ˈhedˌwā] NOUN 1. move forward or make progress, especially when circumstances make this slow or difficult). I didn’t check off a bunch of to do’s and we NEEDED to. We didn’t squeeze a vacation in and we NEEDED it. The girls had summer school and my other half had a double race schedule. I thought we would be able to take off in late July, but before I knew it school was starting again. If I don’t plan it, we don’t get it done/don’t go. I shouldn’t have been irritated by that, but if I’m being honest, a part of me really was.

Fall is normally a time that I really look forward to. The leaves, sweaters, crisp mornings, the sweetness of the upcoming holidays. This year, fall brought a succession of WTF moments slathered on top of a really busy semester. We lost our Ava girl in early September. That was a significant blow to the whole family. You can find my post about Ava here (I’ll warn, it’s pretty raw and I have been told it’s a difficult read. Just have tissues handy.) In October, our hometown was hit by a massive firestorm, triggered by winds I have never experienced. I remember laying in bed listening to the howling. It was spooky – 70 mph gusts – not the norm for Sonoma County. We were evacuated twice. We live about two blocks from the foothills. We can see the hillside from our backyard. Our home was spared and we know we are lucky. Had the winds been blowing in another direction that night, things most certainly would have been different for our neighborhood.

I have tried to write about it several times and I just can’t wrap my head around it all. I think I don’t want to. The devastation is unreal. Thousands of homes. THOUSANDS. Entire neighborhoods incinerated. We are talking about 4,658 homes wiped away – in a matter of hours – just in Santa Rosa and it’s immediate vicinity! Homes of so many friends. It’s still very fresh and yet, oddly, it feels like a lifetime ago. The photos, news stories and videos don’t do it justice. They can’t. The reality is truly so shocking and surreal that it takes your breath away.

Photo credit to @sonomathankful

That said, I must also add, the strength and sense of unity, born from the ashes of this disaster, will also take your breath away. Our city was covered in signs expressing gratitude for first responders and our community showed up in force to offer support to those affected. I have never been more proud to live in Santa Rosa and Sonoma County.

With everything else happening, the holidays came and went in a blink. We hosted Thanksgiving and I was grateful to be able to do so. For me, our Christmas tree was the bright spot. It is always about the small joys. That is especially true this year.

We usually visit a local farm and cut our tree, but this year we went to Tahoe and cut it down for the first time. If you haven’t done it, I highly recommend it. We had breakfast at our favorite spot (The Red Hut) in town, hiked through the forest in search of the perfect tree, and there was snow on the ground.tahoe_tree

It was a beautiful day!

I finished up school just in time to pull everything together and slow down to enjoy a few family traditions we have (decorating gingerbread houses, baking, Christmas movies, hunting for holiday light displays, and T’was the Night Before Christmas). I truly appreciated those moments more than ever this year.

I still feel like I am holding my breath a little, but I am looking forward to what the coming year has in store. I believe there are far better things ahead than those we are leaving behind.

Yes, I am purposely not using the exact C.S. Lewis quote. His was not about optimism.

My glass is still half full.newyear

EXHALE. I guess that’s my resolution for this year. Simply to #exhale. Then I can step back, breathe in all the possibilities for 2018, and see where they take me.

Wishing you all a bright and beautiful new year!



This too shall pass…

WARNING: My heart is on my sleeve in this post and I did not edit. I just need to pour all of this out.

So many weeks have passed since my last post.

I learned a long time ago that the world doesn’t stop turning when something significant happens in your life. I wish it did and it sure feels as though it should. We lost our sweet Ava girl last week. It was so unexpected, for a few days, I really needed our world to stop turning.

Reading through my last post, I can’t help but be numbed (and maybe just slightly humbled) by how unpredictable life is. I wrote that post mindful of our “borrowed time” with her. I was feeling so grateful that her February blood work had revealed nothing out of the ordinary and I really just hoped to simply have her with us for, at the very least, another year. Not for a moment would I have believed our time left with her could be so short. The reality feels cruel. Our hearts are broken.

Our last day with her was one of the longest of my life and yet, it wasn’t long enough. Watching our family say their goodbyes to our beautiful girl. Knowing what the right decision was, after watching her struggle for more than two weeks, and still second guessing myself out of desperation. Telling the vet, through tears, about when we first met her and her endlessly gentle nature. Remembering the sixteen pound (they aren’t small for very long) ball of fluff we brought home. How quickly nine years went by. Feeling guilty about a few times when I was so tired, I skipped her walk and grateful for everything she brought to my (our) life. Listening to her fade away, with my face buried in the top of her head, thanking her for being such a good dog and telling her, over and over, how loved she was – how our hearts were so full we couldn’t have loved her more. All the while silently wanting to be able to take back what was happening, and just take her home.

I would give anything to jingle her collar and have her meet me at the door, or bury my face in the top of her head one more time.

I wrote the following in an email I sent, to my friend Laura, over the weekend. Right now, there really are no better words to sum up how I am feeling… “It’s really difficult not to have her here with us. The ache in my heart, at times, is overwhelming. There are moments I think of her and for a minute, I can’t breathe. John and I both found ourselves looking for her this last week. During the thunderstorm, I immediately scanned for her and began to tell her it was ok. She really was our third child, my right hand gal, and heart dog.”

There is a piece missing from our every day.  When my family leaves in the morning, I am filled with a gnawing emptiness. I am not lonely, but for the first time in twenty-two years, I am all alone. The house is still. The silence is palpable and the quiet makes me so sad.

Some will say “she’s just a dog”. It’s ok for them to not understand. Many friends have texted, emailed, and sent cards saying they have been there and they understand our despair. I know people are going, or have been, through far worse. Especially right now. Still, it doesn’t lessen the sorrow in our little corner of the world.

This weekend we received a card from our veterinary office. When I opened it, there was a small(ish) piece of paper inside. I flipped it over to find her paw print. It was such a surprise it took my breath away and before I could blink, the tears were spilling down my cheeks. I know, as with anything painful, the flood of emotions will lessen over time. In the midst of it all, I hear my girlfriend Jessica, “this too shall pass”.

For now, it’s right in front of me and I really miss her.


Wildridge’s Sudden Avalanche “Ava”, 8/14/08 – 9/11/17

general, life

Confessions of a reluctant “dog mom”…

Pets are family.

If you had said those words to me ten years ago, I would have acknowledged the idea, but I would not have given it much thought. The idea simply would not have carried any considerable weight for me.

Then we met Ava.

I’ve had pets before and loved them. I grew up with horses and dogs. Truth be told, I have never had a dog entangle my whole heart. If you have ever had a pet like this, you know exactly what I am talking about in this post.

She is family.


She is also aging and THIS. IS. HARD.

Ava is a Bernese Mountain Dog. I can’t count how many times I have been asked if she’s “the dog that carries the barrel around her neck and rescues people?” Let’s get that question out of the way now.

She is not. That’s a St. Bernard.

The Bernese Mountain Dog (German: Berner Sennenhund) is a large-sized breed of dog, one of the four breeds of Sennenhund-type dogs from the Swiss Alps. The name Sennenhund is derived from the German Senne (“alpine pasture”) and Hund (“dog”), as they accompanied the alpine herders and dairymen called SennBerner (or Bernese in English) refers to the area of the breed’s origin, in the canton of Bern. This mountain dog was originally kept as a general farm dog. Large Sennenhunde in the past were also used as draft animals, pulling carts. The breed was officially established in 1907. In 1937, the American Kennel Club recognized it; today, the club classifies it as a member of the Working Group.

Before you scroll down and see all of the other photos, I must relay one very significant piece of information. On average, these dogs are short lived. When we brought her home the average was 8 – 10 years. Sadly, it is now 6 – 8 years according to the AKC Berner page and I will tell you this…IT’S NOT LONG ENOUGH.

It had been four years since our Boston passed away (he was almost 15) when I began to toss around the idea of another dog. Yogi was my husband’s dog before he was our dog and he was a lot of work. It turns out, he came from a puppy mill and sometimes you just can’t take the puppy mill out of the puppy. After Yogi, I had been very reluctant to consider another dog. Instead we got a cat and at the time, he was just the right amount of commitment for our family.

We met two families in the same year who had Bernese Mountain Dogs. Before then, the only time I had ever seen a Berner was on the universal dog breed poster. If you have pets, you know which one I’m referring to. It’s on the wall in every veterinary office you have ever visited.  After meeting their dogs and talking with the families, I did a lot of reading about these gentle souls.

I was sold and I began researching breeders. I found a gal who seemed like the right fit. She didn’t work out and I found myself disappointed. Then a friend mentioned a local litter she had heard about.

Ava was two weeks old when Laura invited us to meet the litter of eight beautiful puppies. They were so tiny! Their eyes weren’t even open yet and they had round little milk bellies. They were like snuggly little sausages.

It was love at first sight.

2 weeks old

We learned that the placement process was very in depth and that Laura would choose which puppy we would be offered. Placement would be based on multiple criteria. We were one of MANY interested families, so if we chose to move forward, we were not guaranteed a puppy. On our second visit, we filled out a puppy questionnaire. It asked about our household, lifestyle, what we were looking for in a dog, and various other dog related concerns. Laura spent time during our visits observing the girls with the puppies and with their mom, Sadie.

I spent the next few weeks reminding the girls (they were 9 and 13 at the time) that we did not know for sure if we would be offered a puppy. I knew that even with preparation, the girls were going to be really disappointed if we did not make the list. We crossed our fingers and I hoped for the best.

When Laura called a few weeks later, we were lucky enough to have our choice of the “blue” or “peach” puppies. Breeders use different colored collars, or yarn, to tell them apart. I was leaning toward the peach puppy, but on our next visit, we chose baby blue. She was the smallest and there was something very special about her.

8 weeks old!

Ava came home at just about 9 weeks old. From the beginning we were smitten. She melted right into our family and it was as though she had always been there. We took her everywhere. She loved to go to pick up the girls from school. Everyone wanted to stop and scratch her and Ava would eat up all of the attention.

She was easy to train (housebroken in ten days!) and with the exception of rolls of paper towels, she has never chewed anything she wasn’t supposed to. I have no idea why, but to this day, she loves to shred rolls of paper towels. ava2She never eats them. She just shreds them into a big pile. I can leave a bag of leftover vacation or soccer snacks on the floor, open bag of beef jerky and all, (I have done it more times than I can count!) and head out to run errands. She wouldn’t dream of raiding the bag. Well, she’s a dog, so maybe she dreams of it, but she would never touch it. A roll of paper towels is a different story. Oh well, if that’s her at her worst, I’ll take it.

As a family, Lake Tahoe has always been our happy place. We used to make a lot of winter day trips to snowboard when our girls were young (off season for soccer).

7 months

On those days, we would load Ava up and she would quietly hang out in the back of our suburban with her toys while we were out on the mountain. Every two hours we would come down to let her out so she could run around and play in the snow. She is truly in her element when we visit Tahoe.ava5


Ava will be 9 in a few weeks and we will celebrate with some dog bakery treats from our local pet boutique. Over the last several years, we have nursed her through several physical ailments, including two torn ACL’s. Through it all, she continues to be her smiley, happy self.

According to many breeders, we are already on borrowed time and truthfully, I have begun to notice her slowing down. Laura has always said “Three years a young dog, three years a good dog, three years an old dog. Anything beyond that is a gift.”

I know some people would probably consider me a borderline “crazy dog mom”. I’m not, but that’s OK. I can own it.

4 months

After several discussions with our vet, acknowledging that we are slowly entering our final stages with her has been far more difficult than I would have imagined. Maybe it’s how gentle she has always been. All the evenings we have spent together when my other half was traveling. The way she always rolls over for a belly rub and her way of accepting new friends is to sit on their feet (as long as you’re not wearing a hat). Or the long walks we would take together after the summer sun went down. ava11

Maybe it’s the way she needs to be laying right near whichever family member is in the room. That she always sleeps on my husband’s side of the bed. How tightly she hugs your arm, with her front paws, when you rub her head and ears. That she lays in between my husband and I at the kitchen table every morning, presumably so we can scratch her equally. That she will look over the arm of the sofa when we watch TV to make sure you know she’s still there. Or that she still believes, even at 100 lbs., she’s a lap dog.

Or maybe it’s simply that she has always just been such a “good dog” – the best dog – and when she looks at you, you can see the love in her eyes.

I can only tell you that she is embedded in my heart in a way I cannot completely put into words. I never expected to be this attached to, or emotional about a pet.

Like I said, if you have ever had a pet like this, you can relate. If you haven’t, I hope someday you do.