May 14, 2013 was the happiest day for my husband and I, the birth of our son Wyatt. We where your typical new parents until life decided to throw us a curve ball. June 3, 2013, 3 weeks after giving birth to our precious baby boy, we where visiting our hometown. During a day of shopping, I had what thought was postpartum bleeding. My husband rushed me to the closes emergency room. The doctors in our home town thought the same and believed I was having just your normal postpartum hemorrhage. They stopped the bleeding temporaliy. 3 days later my little family and I drove back home, to continue enjoying ourlives with our precious new addition. The day after we got home, I started to have another postpartum hemorrhage. I called my doctors office and they asked me to come in. Before I knew it I was being rushed into emergency surgery, woke up to being on oxygen and being pumped full of blood. 3 pints of blood, a pint of iron and 4 days of being oxygen, I finally got to go home thinking this whole nightmare was over, but it was only the beginning of my journey.
A week later after surgery, I go in for a routine post surgey exam. At this appointment I heard the word I would of never imagined, my OBGYN, who I considered saved my life, informed that she was referring me to an oncologist. Told me she had discovered some “suspicious cells” during surgery. Though she wasn’t able or confirm why I needed to go see this oncologist, she highly recommend that I do so. So a week later my husband and I went to see Dr. White, my oncologist, he said the three words I never thought I’d hear, you have cancer. I was a 27 year old woman, who has a newborn that needs me more than cancer needed me. Choriocarcinoma was my diagnoses, cancer of the placenta. Who would of thought that was actually possible.
After tests and scans once I had been diagnosed, they discovered the cancer had spread to in my lungs along with my uterus. My doctor took a very aggressive approach. I was admitted into the hospital 4 days out of every week to receive my chemotherapy. This was the hardest part, being a new mother, my priorities where my son. I’m suppose to be taking care of him, instead I was gone from him every week but that littl boy along with my husband, they where my greatest motivation. I had to get better , I had no other option. After 12 strait weeks in and out of the hospital, a fabulous no hair do, and the self discovery that I had strength I had no idea I had, I went into remission. I am now 18 months cancer free and living life to its fullest with my husband and precious little boy.
Stay strong my fellow warriors and survivors, we all have a bond that is like non other, and just keep smiling.