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I was drugged. This is my story.

It’s been a month since the incident, so it’s time for an update.

For those of you who are reading this for the first time, I was drugged at the end of April during a
mom’s night out in my town. I blacked out after two drinks (and a sip of my third),
lost four hours of memory, and took an ambulance ride to the hospital where I spent
most of the night. It was an incredibly traumatic experience – both for me who overdosed,
and for my husband, who thought I was dying.

Jeremy and I shared separate posts on the drugging from our own perspectives, in an
attempt to spread awareness – which went viral within a few days. News outlets reached out for interviews, which I initially declined because I was overwhelmed with the attention. Now that I’ve had time (and therapy!) to start processing what happened, I’m ready to talk.

Of course, when you share anything publicly online, you open yourself to criticism:
– “Why didn’t your friends call 911? Why didn’t they know you were drugged right away?”
– “Why did your husband drive you home? Why didn’t he take you straight to the ER if you were in such bad shape?”
– “Why were you there without your husband? Women shouldn’t go out alone.”
– “Did you get a drug test? Show me the results.”
– “Why would you trash the bar’s reputation? It’s not their fault.”
– “I heard you were already trashed when you showed up to the bar.”
– “Prove it, or it didn’t happen.”

These are just a few of the comments, and of course the negative is always more impactful than the positive. But I will say that 90% of the messages I’ve received have been supportive. We’ve had friends and family in the early days drop off dinner, host playdates, and offer support in so many other ways. I’ve had an outpouring of support from strangers. That’s what’s been such a blessing in the midst of this – seeing what a wonderful support network we have.

As a result of sharing my story, 5 more people have come forward who have had a similar experience at
the same establishment. One, the same night that it happened to me. The police also received a tip
regarding someone who was already under investigation for allegedly drugging women, being there
that night. The validity of this tip is yet to be confirmed by the police. I don’t know what to believe – but the police are taking this seriously, and following up on all leads.

As far as the bar is concerned, I am incredibly disappointed their response – or rather, the lack thereof. To this date, there has been no public statement made regarding the incident. They have not acknowledged that this even happened, but have given the perception that they are the victim in my story because I shared that it happened there, and frankly – that approach is mind-blowing to me.

SO – how am I now? Physically, I’m healed. Emotionally, I’m angry.
– When I blacked out, I fell face forward on the pavement and landed on my forehead. The hospital didn’t follow concussion protocol.
– It took begging from my husband to get the hospital to run a drug screen. It didn’t happen until I’d had an IV in my system, flushing out toxins for some time.
– He begged them to take my blood alcohol levels, and the response was “we don’t do that here”.
– I asked my primary doctor two weeks later to do a hair test – and their response was “there are no commercially available tests like that for date rape drugs”.

They simply weren’t equipped to handle this kind of situation.

The sad fact is that 1 in 6 women will be drugged in their lifetime, most commonly with ketamine, rohypnol, or GHB – and there is no reliable way to test for it. We lack national or even statewide testing standards and capabilities for these drugs, which results in victims being re-victimized after the fact. The police knew exactly what I was drugged with, after hearing only the first two minutes of my story, but my only proof will be if they can catch the person on camera. This is incredibly hard, even if there were adequate camera coverage.

It’s infuriating.

Why do we make it so easy to do this to people? Why do we put the burden of proof on the victims?
The police investigation is ongoing. With more victims coming forward, there is a lot of legwork
to do on their part – and while the person who did this to me may not see justice, I’m not letting this go.

I’m going yell like hell about this until something changes, because this is not just my story. This is the story of every woman (and MAN!) that has been drugged without their consent – who never asked for this to happen to them. Who doubted themselves, or were too afraid to come forward.

To you I say: I BELIEVE YOU, it is not your fault, and I will fight for you.

Family Home Improvement

A Cautiously Optimistic Hello to 2022

holiday card

I’ve been on a blogging hiatus for a while now – we moved out of our house in mid-July for our big renovation project, and that’s been consuming all of my mental energy since. To be honest, it’s been a total nightmare and I’m sure our families and close friends are tired of hearing us talk about it. We hired the wrong builder, and our 3 month project that’s now going on 7 MONTHS has been a valuable (albeit painful) learning experience. If you’re in southeast Michigan and are considering a renovation, please message me so I can tell you who to avoid – you’ll thank me later.

This was right after they let it rain INSIDE our house.

Fortunately, the project should hopefully be wrapping up in the next month – Jeremy and I have a TON to share about our experience, and tips for anyone looking for build or renovate. We’ll definitely be blogging (and maybe vlogging!) about it once the project is finally done, and we’ve been able to breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe also have a spa day and find a therapist. The PTSD is real.

In the meantime, I wanted to check in and say Happy (?) 2022! We’ve been staying with my mom this entire time, and the kids loved having Christmas at her house – I think my mom might have loved it just a little bit, too. We are ready to get back in our house though, be done with our builder, and make it our home again.

Jeremy is going to be helping me with content and posts about what’s happening with our little family, so hopefully we’ll have lots of great things to share with you soon. I’ll also be posting some highlights from the last year as well, I can’t wait to share what we’ve been up to! With 2 kids 5 and under, working remotely, managing a renovation, and living away from home – life has been a lot to handle, to say the least.

photo credits: Nina Hersst Photography

I hope regardless of what is happening in the world today, you’re happy and staying healthy. Thanks for sticking with us!

Becky

Pregnancy/Baby

Sawyer George’s Birth Story

It’s hard to believe that our baby boy is 5 months old next week! I’ve had his birth story written out for months, and finally made the time to share it with you. If you’re sitting down to read this, grab a cup of coffee, it’s a long story!

Sawyer George, 9/2/2020 – 7lbs. 7 oz., 21″ long!

Much like with my pregnancy with Isla (you can read more about that here), I loved reading about birth stories and listening to The Birth Hour podcast to get exposed to all of the different experiences women have had.  I personally found it really helpful to get myself in the right mindset, and have an understanding of the many different ways birth can go.  So, before too much more time passes, I wanted to share my birth story with baby #2.


I was officially due on August 26th, and I didn’t share this during my first pregnancy, but I told everyone that my due date was actually 2 weeks after my real due date; I knew that first time moms tend to go over and I didn’t think I had to patience to hear anyone asking “you didn’t have that baby yet?!”.  Sure enough, I went 11 days over with Isla before I went into labor.  I understood however, that second babies tend to come sooner, so I didn’t feel the need to stretch the date this time.  Well, that bit me in the ass as I watched my due date come and go with zero signs of labor, and inevitably started getting texts everyday asking “where is that baby?!”.  The waiting game at the very end is so hard!

40+2 and completely OVER IT.


I watched the days pass as my hope of having an August birthday baby dwindled.  Then, on August 31st, I was woken up at 5am by a real contraction.  The kind that starts in your lower back and moves around to the front like you’re being squished in a vice grip from the inside out.  One that wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, but was too painful to sleep through.  Over the next 15 minutes, two more hit and I started getting concerned.  I immediately went downstairs and laid on the couch to relax and try and time them. 

Over the next 3 hours, they came pretty consistently every 10-15 minutes, so I went upstairs to wake Jeremy and let him know that I thought I was in labor.  I also got SUPER emotional that this could be it, and that I was scared and a little sad that this could be our last day with just Isla.  By 8am, Isla came downstairs for breakfast, and I gave her so many snuggles!

The contractions kept up pretty consistently every 5-20 minutes all day, but never got any stronger, and they weren’t anything I wasn’t able to talk through – but by 4PM I was concerned enough to call triage to get their opinion.  They thought it would be a good idea for me to come in and get checked, so my mom came over to take Isla for the night, and we took our last photo as a family of 3.

As we headed to the hospital, my contractions were 5 minutes apart. By the time I was wheeled up to triage, my contractions spaced out to 20 minutes apart.  Unfortunately, when the midwife checked me, I was only dilated to 2cm and 80% effaced.  So, it was Prodromal labor (also known as false labor), and they sent us home.  I cried out of frustration and felt like I couldn’t trust my body to tell me when it was time.  Jeremy and I headed home, grabbed some Jolly Pumpkin to-go, then went to bed early thinking that things could pick up overnight. 

The view from our hospital room – so pretty.

…Surprise!  They didn’t.  By the time I woke up the next morning, contractions had completely stopped, and I felt normal.  I took Isla to daycare, then signed into work for the day.  On lunch, I took a fast-paced 4 mile walk, and was swearing under my breath the entire time.  Still, nothing happened so we had a pretty normal rest of our day, and I was resigned to the fact that I would just be the first woman in history to be pregnant forever. 

GTFO, baby!


At 4am on Wednesday morning, I was woken up by another real contraction, but this one felt stronger than Monday  Over the next 30 minutes, 3 more came – so again I went downstairs to time them.  These were again about 10-15 minutes apart, but still erratic, so I decided to stop timing them and just carry on with my morning.  Jeremy took Isla to daycare, and I signed into work.  Over the morning they were anywhere from 6-10 minutes apart, but by around 10AM they became strong enough that I had to get on my hands and knees on the floor to work through them.

Still, I refused to fall for another false alarm, so I didn’t believe I was in actual labor and felt like things could stop progressing at any moment.  I even did a few loads of laundry, and cleaned our bathrooms in between work emails just to keep my mind occupied.  By 1:30, I was hungry for lunch and decided to make a protein smoothie and lay down to see if things would slow down. 

So I laid in bed with my pregnancy pillow, and 15 minutes later I was hit with a contraction SO strong that I actually had to vocalize to get through it.  Within 5-6 minutes, I’d had two more that had me in tears – so I yelled to Jeremy that we needed to call triage.  He came upstairs, saw me, and said “forget calling, we’re getting in the car.”  So, he called triage while he loaded everything up, and we were on the road less than 5 minutes later.
  
I’m so glad he made that call, because while it’s only a 15 minute drive to the hospital, my contractions were strong and only 2-3 minutes apart.  I was that classic woman in labor, making LOTS of noise in the car.  So much noise, that I was making Jeremy a nervous wreck that I was going to have the baby in the car – in between contractions I would just grab his arm and say “It’s okay, I’m okay – take a breath.”

We did have a funny moment once we got into downtown Ann Arbor – Jeremy pulled up next to a police officer at a red light.  Hoping that he could get an escort to the hospital (traffic can be really crazy downtown), he rolled down the window, got the officer’s attention and yells “my wife is in labor!”.  The cop looks at him, smiles, says “congratulations!  Don’t get into an accident!”.  Jeremy, realizing that the officer didn’t really understand what he was getting at, yells back “okay well I’m about to drive really fast, so don’t pull me over!”, and we sped off.

We were about 4 blocks away from the hospital at this point, when I started feeling a lot of pressure – I didn’t say anything to Jeremy at the time, but in my head I was thinking please don’t have this baby in the car!  We arrived at the hospital about 5 minutes later – I was pretty much vocalizing the entire way up to triage, which probably startled a few people in the lobby 🙂

Once the staff in triage heard how frequently I was having contractions, they quickly got me into a room, where I heard the nurses say “I don’t think we even need to check her, she sounds like an auto-admit”.  But I didn’t want to be faked out again, so I asked to be checked.  I didn’t want to be sent home again!  Our midwife Lisa (who I’m convinced now is a complete angel – she was the calmest medical professional I’ve ever met) arrived a few minutes later, checked me with a surprised face and said “oh!  You’re at 5 centimeters! Great job!”.  I had a contraction just starting, so while I was ready to scream and cry from the pain, I looked up at Jeremy with a grimace on my face and say “yaaaay, I’m at a 5!”.

Pre-epidural.

I knew this time around that I wanted the epidural right away, so they ordered that and then got me wheeled into my room.  I had about 30 minutes of contractions to work through before the anesthesiology team arrived, and I’d dilated another centimeter in that time.  The epidural went in quickly, but I could only feel it on my left side for the first 20 minutes so they had me lay on my side to get gravity to numb my right side. 

Shortly after I laid on my side, the nurse began explaining “your water hasn’t broken yet – so the midwife might offer the option of breaking it for you, if you’re interested”.  Before she could even finish the sentence, I felt a pop, and a HUGE gush.  I interrupted her with “uh…it just broke.”, and she and Jeremy both started laughing and said “really?!”.  Amazing timing. 

Thankfully, side-lying worked pretty quickly and I could no longer feel the contractions!  So Jeremy and I settled in to rest and wait for my body to do the rest of the work.  He ordered Zingerman’s Deli because I said that was what I wanted for my first meal after birth, and we were thinking we would have several hours before I’d deliver so we’d rather just have it there waiting. I was feeling better, and texted my mom “just got the epidural and feeling great!” with a photo of us.

We had no idea we were only an hour away from having the baby!

We rested for about 30-40 minutes, when all of the sudden I became incredibly nauseous, anxious, and shaky.  I started crying because I felt really, really awful – like I didn’t have any control over my body, and I couldn’t understand why. I was shivering uncontrollably, which isn’t something I experienced with Isla.  Our nurse Suzanne (also amazing), suggested that the midwife check me because while this would mean things had progressed very quickly, that I could actually be in transition.  I didn’t believe it since labor was SO long the first time, but agreed to be checked.
  
When our midwife came back she checked me, and again with a surprised face and said “oh – you’re complete, and the baby’s head is right here!  I think it’s time to have this baby!”  Jeremy and I were completely shocked that I’d progressed that quickly – it’s amazing what the body remembers how to do once it’s done it before.

I started pushing around 5:45, and Sawyer George was born at 6:15!  It was so easy compared to the 3 hours I pushed with Isla, that I could hardly believe it was over. When they put him on my chest, Jeremy and I looked at each other like what just happened?

As we’re looking at each other and our new baby in shock, Jeremy’s phone is ringing.  He picks up and I hear “oh, sorry – my wife was literally just giving birth!  I’ll be down in a minute.”. 

Our Zingermans deli driver had been trying to get ahold of Jeremy, but obviously he wasn’t picking up because he was distracted.  The timing was perfect though, have a baby – get a deli sandwich!  I had the 00 – the Cuban Conundrum (my favorite!), and I ate the entire thing because holy cow is labor hard work!

I can’t believe how different my labor was this time around, if you remember, my experience with Isla was 30 hours and SO painful.  It just goes to show you that every birth is different! 

Thanks Aunt Marylou for the WMU gear!

It’s hard to believe that our Sawyer bean is almost 5 months old now.  He’s the chubbiest, happiest little goofball and we couldn’t imagine our lives without him!

Pregnancy/Baby

A Letter to Isla: Before You Become a Big Sister

To our sweet, fiesty first born: thank you for choosing us to be your parents.

The other morning, while snuggling with you on the couch, you put your tiny hand on my belly and said “Hi little baby! You feeling okay in there?” and gave it a big kiss. You are SO ready for your upcoming promotion to big sister…but are we ready to see you grow up? There is so much joy in this process, but it also feels so bittersweet.

I vividly remember getting two lines on the pregnancy test just a few days before Christmas, and crying hard. Not out of happiness, nor fear (okay, maybe a little shock), but mostly due to the fact that you weren’t going to be the baby anymore.

For 3 years and (almost) 9 months, it’s just been the three of us. Your dad and I taking a million photos/videos, hanging on to every milestone and every word you say, and saying to each other at least 20 times a day “She’s just the cutest.”.

It’s also been filled with us being pushed to our limits with your tantrums, only to get choked up at an “I love you mom and dad!”, or even just watching you sleep. I will always remember the days of just us.

You changed our lives in the most challenging, joyful ways when you arrived on that foggy Thanksgiving morning almost 4 years ago. Each year with you has been such a learning experience for us, one that has taught us compassion, patience, sacrifice, and unconditional love. We’ve grown up a little with you, and we’re so much better for it.

Although this is our second go around with a baby, it will be a lot of firsts for you.  It will be the first time in your life that you’ll have to share our attention, your toys, and your space.  It will be a lot of change – and I expect that might feel a little scary or frustrating for you at first, but just know that we will do our best to make you feel just as loved as you are, and always have been.  You were our first.

Now with just one month to go, we wait for our littlest one to arrive and complete our family. The idea of loving someone else as BIG as we love you feels impossible, but I know our hearts will grow, and just as you’ve been teaching us these last 4 years, you’ll show us the way this time, too.

We love you, sweet girl. Always.

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