MOTHERHOOD AND THE CANCER SCARE

I don't know about you, but I think it might be cancer when I've had stomach problems for a few days or a severe headache for several hours. The tummy soon feels better, the headache goes away, and you realize you've been a bit of a hypochondriac. 

Over 500,000 people in the U.S. die of cancer each year. Approximately 40% of us will have a cancer diagnosis at some point. People living beyond their cancer diagnosis are increasing substantially every year. The latest statistics indicate that 14.5 million people live beyond a cancer diagnosis. It is expected to rise to 19 million by 2024. 171 individuals out of 100,000 die of cancer each year. 

It took me a few years to decide I wanted to have a baby. It was a relief to finally be through working nights and going to college during the day to finally get a master's degree. And...I was soon launched into a professional job, making a decent wage and working only during the week. I had only been married a couple of years to my husband, who was well-established in his law practice.

Both of us had spent many hard, lean years going to college. Neither of us was one of those students who had their way paid for by their parents to enjoy a typical college student experience. After we finished, we were ready to have a good time. We did. We spent a couple of years flying across the country to various locations in a private plane piloted by my husband. We hiked the Rockies and parts of the Appalachian Trail. We went scuba diving in Cozumel, Hawaii, and in the kelp forest off Dana Point in Southern California. 

I was in my late 20s when I decided to have a baby. My husband was lukewarm about it, but I convinced him we were ready. After all, we were very much in love, had recently purchased our first house, and had good sources of income. And...we were getting older, at least I thought so!

My pregnancy seemed to last forever. The first four months were filled with many days of nausea and vomiting. I thought 'morning sickness' was a misnomer, as it seemed I was sick 24/7. The remaining five months were spent making up for the first four months in which I gained 70 pounds. My job required traveling to various cities in the U.S. every week for at least one or two nights. I continued to fly until I was about 8 and a half months pregnant. I was huge and very uncomfortable.

Marcy finally arrived at Baylor Hospital in Dallas. She weighed 9 pounds, 7 ounces and was one of the most beautiful babies I've ever seen, along with having a deafening cry.

As soon as she was born, the doctor asked if I wanted the 6 little growths removed from my vulva. I noticed they began appearing when I was about 4 months pregnant, but I didn't think anything of it. I told him that it didn't matter whether or not he removed them. He proceeded to lance all of them.

Two days later, he came into my room to give me the good news/bad news. I had no idea what the bad news could be. He told me that my daughter was very healthy. She was so loud in the nursery that it was difficult for the nurses and doctors to hear the heartbeats of the other babies and to listen to their lungs. Marcy's lungs were very healthy. The staff recommended that we be discharged post haste.

Next came the bad news: He explained, "Remember those 6 growths I removed after you had the baby? Five of them were cancerous. You have Malignant Squamous Cell Carcinoma of the vulva. We will watch you closely for the next year, but the prognosis is probably good."

I didn't know what all that meant at the time. When you hear something like that, your mind is altered until you get more information or are ready for more details. My 70-year-old mother-in-law had been diagnosed with breast cancer several months before the baby was born. Her cancer had already spread to her bones by the time she was diagnosed. Her prognosis wasn't very favorable. She was a widow, and my husband was her only child. They had a hard time dealing with the whole issue. When my husband heard about me, he didn't say much other than he was already numb due to his mother's diagnosis and could not think about mine.

It wasn't long after returning home with the new baby when I made a beeline to the Southwestern Medical School library. My undergraduate degree was from the School of Health Sciences, which was associated with medical school. We shared the library, and I still had a library card. What I discovered is that my cancer was a form of skin cancer, and it probably occurred because I had the human papillomavirus (HPV). Hormonal changes in pregnant women also cause a higher incidence of cancer. The most alarming part of Malignant Squamous Cell Carcinoma is that it can spread very quickly, most often to the lungs. If that happens, it's incurable. I was apprehensive. Too much information is not always good. 

It is recommended that parents have their children, ages 11 to 12, get vaccinated for HPV. About 79 million Americans are currently infected, and there are 14 million new cases yearly. There is a high risk of various cancers for those with HPV. 

Like most babies, Marcy wasn't much of a sleeper. Like most mothers, I was breastfeeding every few hours around the clock. When I would look at her sweet sleeping face, I would wonder if I'd ever see past a few years old, much less grown. After months of no sleep and the fear that I might not live long, I began to wonder if she deserved another mother. At this time, my husband decided to leave work earlier each day to help me more. Sleep deprivation and postpartum depression are often under-reported severe conditions in new mothers. There's a stigma associated with both; hopefully, more people will learn the symptoms and seek treatment/relief for new mothers in the throes of those conditions.

Three months later, it was determined that the hormonal changes in my pregnant body were one of the causes of cancer and that I should have a tubal ligation to be safe. I remember awakening from the anesthesia and crying that I couldn't have any more children. It was a few years later that I really regretted that decision. Marcy was such a delight that I wanted more children just like her. 

For about a year, I returned to the doctor each month for a pap smear. His opinion was that my form of cancer could quickly spread to the uterus and/or cervix. It didn't. I've had negative pap

smears for almost 38 years. 

Until a few years ago, my now ex-husband would get follow-up letters from Baylor regarding my status. They were doing mortality studies. He would dutifully report that I was alive and well, even though I'm sure there were times when he wished I would go away.

I'm still here.