Quote From: shelly_80When i saw the title Steel Magnolias I nearly lost it, then I really lost it when I kept reading. In the couple years that I've been posting/reading posts on Dr. Phil's boards I have yet had any post to completely break my heart in two, until this one. Your story truly brought tears to my eyes. I, in no possible way can sympathize with you or the mother who lost her daughter to brain cancer, but my heart goes out to both. If you don't mind me asking, how did your second pregnancy turn out? And the cancer?
My mom suffered two seperate mis-carrages between my sister and I. She wasn't far enough along to determine eithers gender. To this day she talks about them and says she'll get to see her angels in heaven one day. I'm kinda curious what they would have looked like too.
Yesterday was Memorial Day. I confess, I always think of Charlie on Memorial Day.
My second pregnancy brought my daughter, Lauren into the world. I had troubles near the end, and she had something called fetal growth retardation. It means that I carried Lauren for 39 weeks, but she stopped developing at week 31. She weighed 5 pounds and one precious ounce. That ounce meant she could be delivered at the normal hospital. Any less, she would have been delivered at a neonatal unit.
I hold the hospital's record for not asking whether the child was a boy or a girl. Parents usually inquire this before the baby is completely delivered. I lay back with a comfortable C-section listening to that pleasant little voice, mewing away. Finally, they cleaned the baby up. The doctor said, "I don't believe it. I have never had a patient not ask if it was a boy or a girl. Do you want to know?"
I looked at my husband, he looked at me and he said, "I guess so."
We wished Lauren her first "Happy Birthday." I remember plainly the moment when I dared love her. Two weeks later, I brought her home from the hospital to her nursery. As I walked down the hall toward it,
the weight of the world fell off my shoulders. I had my baby, and I got to go home and be her momma!
I had a miscarriage the following year. I bled excessively, and I had a D&C. The worst thing about cervical cancer is that pregnancy speeds up the cancer. And, then it masks the problem. Instead of having distinct symptoms, I was told I had "false labor." I was only imagining the problem, and I would be sent home.
Two years after Lauren, I had my son James. He is the exact image of his brother, Charlie. Six months later, I had a hysterectomy. The cancer kicked in big time.
