God had promised my husband and I
that we would have a family. No matter
how sick I became or how great the emotional struggle was, I knew God would
fulfill His promise. It was 14 years of
applying faith to my pain but I consistently reminded God of the Word he spoke
to my heart.
Then I got the phone call from a gynecologist's
office informing me he had a diagnosis. There is one word in any language that
is difficult to hear. That word is -- cancer.
“Carol, basically you have two
choices and I think it is obvious which one you will choose!” I assumed he
meant two types of treatment. He continued, “Your choices are hysterectomy or
death.” He paused for impact. “You are a very sick young woman.”
Strength and faith welled up inside
of me and I said “No! I do not accept
those choices. There has to be another way! I will find that alternative.”
I had challenged his intelligence. He
rose up from behind his desk, leaned towards me and pointed his finger in my
face. He was so angry he was shooting spit when he said, “Well then, lady, go
home, suffer and…….die!”
I stood up, spun on my heel and
started out of the room. Then I paused, turned, and said in a loud staccato
voice, enunciating each syllable clearly. “I... will.... walk.... in here....
pregnant.... one day.” I couldn’t believe the words that came out of nowhere. But
in my heart, I knew I was going to succeed. Nothing was going to stop me. I
almost screamed out loud “ENOUGH, not this time.” Hysterectomy – I don’t think
so. Death? Not my time yet.
About three weeks later, I was
introduced to natural food supplements. I
changed my diet and started my new food regime. In less than a week I was
feeling better. I researched and took
every course on nutrition I could find.
I was determined to improve my health.
It was the middle of March, 14 years
later, when I made an appointment with the same doctor.
“Hello, Carol. It has been a while
since I have seen you. Why did you decide to come now?”
“I haven't had a physical for a long
time and figured I should.” He examined me, left the room and said he would
return shortly when he got the lab results from my urine sample. It was a full
half hour when the doctor walked back into the examining room.
“Carol, I am very sorry to inform
you, but you are very pregnant.” His head was down as if he were ashamed.
I stood up. “Yes, doctor,
I...am...sure.... you... are... very... sorry... to.... inform... me. You
obviously remember the words you spoke to me the last time I was here.”
I was not prepared in any way for the
next words that came out of his mouth. Trying to gain his composure and his
rightful position, he stood up and whispered a shout, “Who is the father?” He
threw the words at me, the same way he had all those years ago.
He must have remembered, or read it
in my file, that my husband, Paul, was also sterile. However, Paul had received
a report some months earlier of healthy sperm. I wanted to get out of that
awful room which reeked of pharmaceuticals. He left and I never saw him again.
I spent six months in the hospital
with five major complications to this pregnancy. Weekly, the doctors would give me negative
reports. The doctors warned me that if
this baby survived, he/she would never be normal. He/she would probably be born with Cystic
Fibrosis and weigh under two pounds, among other complexities.
Six weeks before my C-section was
scheduled I woke up at 4:45 in the morning with intense pain. “Dear God, help me now. Save my baby.”
Inside of me, a battle was
raging. “What if the baby does not
live? What if the baby is not
normal?” I had to constantly choose not
to believe the lies and stay focused on the truth of God’s promises. He would never leave me. He would honor His word spoken to my heart.
It was only a matter of minutes when
the doctor announced, “You got what you wanted.
V is for Victory.” I was not sure
what he meant by that. He immediately
held up my daughter for me to see her and I began to sob.
“See the V on her forehead?” The
nurse was holding her close to my face.
“That is for victory. She is
perfect. A perfect 10 on the Apgar score
and she weighs six pounds, six ounces which is amazing for a baby born six
weeks early.”
My baby girl defied all the laws of
negativity and is now the proud mom of two children.
As a result of that diagnosis of
cancer over 40 years ago, I became a Certified Health Coach and
Symptomologist. I have helped hundreds
of women realize optimum health. The
community has labeled me Dr. Fertility as I have had the unique privilege of
giving hope to women who had lost all hope of ever having a child.
It all began with a determination to
believe the good report of the Word of God and never letting go, no matter what
happened.