My Miracle

Not many know my Marty story, but tonight I have the urge to tell. I did a great job hiding my struggles for a young teenager barely turning twenty. It wasn't until my second cyrosurgery that my Mom even caught onto what was going on.

While pregnant with Jason, my doc was doing a regular exam. There was the "hmmm...okay...hmmm" awkwardness that there always is for that type of visit, but when it was over he handed me a piece a paper and told me it was referral for a biopsy. I was told the referral was written for after I delivered and that I should wait till at least four weeks after delivery to make the appointment.

At the time, I had no clue but the reality was the doc had noted unusual uterine cells in his last examine and smear and was doing the examine as follow-up. He didn't tell me much. Being as young as I was, I didn't really think it was a big deal, so I didn't ask many questions. To me, it was not a big deal until after I delivered Jason. Then I found out that they needed to do a biopsy quickly and wondered what the rush was. Shortly after, I went through five different surgeries and treatments for an early form of uterine cancer. I was told after the last one that I probably wouldn't carry another child full term and that I should consider having a tubiligation or a full hysterectomy. I refused after I had a "clean" PAP and examine from a specialist. I was only 23 then and I knew I wanted more children. At least, I knew I wanted to try.

When I got pregnant with Marshall I was terrified. From my first doc's examine I was put on high risk watch and was treated with the best and most cautious of care. It seemed to be going good for me. However, at five months pregnant, I was moving to Canada and probably doing way more than a high risk pregnant woman should do. I went into labor, not full blown labor, but labor with contractions and not being dilated at all. I thought for sure I'd loose him, that he wouldn't make it and that it'd be all my fault for trying to make something happen that shouldn't. The doc put me on a drip bag in the hospital room and sent me home; I think he was half expecting I'd miscarry before the night was over, but I didn't. The labor stopped almost immediately.

I was put on bed rest and off work from that day on. I didn't always follow the doctor's orders but I tried to. I simply cannot sit still, lay in bed and beg for others to care for me, not even knowing what was at risk.

I carried Marshall to six months then went in for an ultrasound and some other "at risk" fluid tests. At the end of the tests they told me I was even at more risk of losing him because I had scar tissue that had prevented the second feeding tube from forming. They told me he was way under size and under-developed for a child at this point of gestation. When I inquired as to what I could do about it, I was given a diet that made me want to vomit just reading it; red meat, pasta, high protein foods. Uggghhhhh...I've always hated red meat. Every bite I took made me want to vomit, but I did it.

I gained tons of weight, but carried him to full term. After full term they kept watching vitamins and fluids and his weight and development. Then finally they said I could go into labor at anytime and he should be okay. I remember questioning..."should be okay, what does that mean?" Regardless, I was semi-thrilled and begged for my water to break. I walked on the treadmill in the garage every night and nothing happened. Finally I was induced on the last Friday the 13th of the millennium in room 313 at Oakwood hospital. I was freaking out on the inside, but in 4 hours and no time for a spinal, I delivered a fully healthy boy.

To this day, he is my miracle. He's still undersized but he's a Brownell, it was semi-genetic from his short and stout Daddio! No matter, he still continues to amaze me by being a sweet, kind, caring and smart kid. He's a hockey star. He's a social butterfly. He's the kid that wants to and knows how to take care of and help mentally and physically handicapped kids. He is the kid that will stick up for what he believes is right. He is the kid that will rough and tough with me, yet snuggle and love me. He's not yet afraid of public affection from Mom; in fact, he offers it freely.

He is my shining star and I'm so glad he made it into my world in full health. He teaches me that chance doesn't know it's odds and it can persevere beyond any statistic.

Regardless of how God smiled on me, I knew not to push the process of miracles for one more try. I took the doctor's urging to heart and decided no more for me.