Today I want to share one of my many blessings with you. While I believe that every child is a blessing, I also know that some lives are a little more miraculous than others. This is all about a girl who almost wasn't. And this is the Reader's Digest condensed version. ; )
You see, when I married the Hubster, we knew that he would never be a biological father. The urologist said so. Then he met me, Fertile Myrtle, and we proved that doctor wrong.
Except that in the beginning of the pregnancy, I had absolutely no idea I was pregnant.
None. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. No reason to think I might be. The fact that I actually was pregnant is the first part of this compounded miracle.
Before I had any reason to even suspect that I might be pregnant, my PAP came back questionable. The doc called me in for a biopsy. He snipped six little pieces of my cervix and sent them off to be studied. It was a painful procedure and caused some spotting and discomfort for the rest of that day. The fact that I didn't miscarry at that point is the second part of this compounded miracle.
Then, while anxiously awaiting the results, the fun began. I was showing all the signs of pregnancy. Basically, I felt icky and bloated and Aunty Flow hadn't shown up for her monthly visit. So I peed on a stick. You can guess the results.
Within minutes of being shocked by the pretty little plus sign, my doc's office called about my PAP and the results were not good. They wanted to schedule surgery.
Then I informed them of my own test results.
The terror began.
My doc told me I'd probably be unable to carry to term; that I'd probably be forced to abort. I told him I would most definitely not abort. I was scared.
Then he said the word 'oncologist' and I was terrified.
I started seeing the oncologist every month when I visited the obstetrician. They kept an eye on cell growth by doing a colposcopy at each visit because the pregnancy would either accelerate the cancer growth or it would halt it.
I'm still here, so I guess you know which way it went. Part three of this compounded miracle, at your service!
On November 10, 1997 I delivered a beautiful and healthy 8# 10 oz. baby girl. (Compounded miracle, part four.)
A few weeks later they did surgery and removed a large piece of my cervix. They wanted to be sure to get all the bad stuff and find clear margins in order to ensure that it had not spread.
I think you know what they found.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero.
God gave us the miracle of Perri and made me healthy so that I could stick around to enjoy her.
For this I am truly grateful.
And the miracles have only compounded since then.
Perri was an easy baby. She slept well, ate well, was almost never ill. She was reading at the age of 4 and seemed to soak up any and every little bit of knowledge that she possibly could. She started kindergarten and was extremely bored. She was tested and found to be reading above a 5th grade level. After much consideration we opted to bump her up a grade. She adjusted beautifully and seemed much happier. In second grade she was tested for the gifted program and has enjoyed the benefits of the challenges it provides. Now, in middle school, she is already earning credits toward high school graduation by taking advanced placement classes. I often find myself watching her, in awe of all that she is and all that she may become, and very proud of what she has accomplished in her 12 years.
This week brought some more happiness for us all, as we attended a lovely ceremony where Perri was inducted into the National Junior Honor Society.
Tucker, Perri and Brie just after the ceremony. :)
I am so very proud of you, Perri, and love you to the moon and back!
Hold onto your dreams and keep up the hard work, sweet girl, and keep reaching for the stars.
You're going to go so very far!
I am so very proud of you, Perri, and love you to the moon and back!
Hold onto your dreams and keep up the hard work, sweet girl, and keep reaching for the stars.
You're going to go so very far!
