It's been a while …

I've spent the past two years wanting to update our blog, but couldn't really bring myself to do it despite the many AMAZING adventures we've had (maybe I'll update on those little by little in the upcoming weeks). Why? It just didn't seem right. Something happened in our lives that I didn't feel I could just skip over, but I wasn't ready to share it. I think I've finally come to a place where I can "put it down on paper" and move on, so here goes:

Ben and I found out we were pregnant in May 2013 and were absolutely thrilled! We had prayed about starting a family and were so happy to become parents. It was hard being away from our families, but we were so blessed to be able to share our joy with some of our great friends in Guam. When I was about 6 weeks along, I started getting really sick which of course was not alarming. As the days went on, I became so ill that I was not able to get out of bed and couldn't keep anything (including water) down, so I went to the doctor. I was told that everything was fine and that my body just didn't tolerate pregnancy well. I stayed in bed for about another week, only getting sicker by the day. When I was just under 9 weeks pregnant, I went back to the doctor and within minutes of being seen I knew something was wrong. My doctor performed and ultrasound and asked if she could bring another doctor in for a second opinion and my heart started breaking at that very minute. I called Ben and picked him up from work to go the hospital for another ultrasound, as requested by my doctor, that could be recorded in my medical record. Immediately after the second ultrasound, I got a call from my doctor that changed our world: I was diagnosed with a molar pregnancy, told that it was impossible to have a viable pregnancy, and that I needed to be seen at the hospital the next day for pre-op. Ben and I found a seat in the empty hospital hallway and just cried, feeling completely defeated. 

First thing the next morning, a friend took me to the hospital to meet with an OB/GYN who was able to explain what was happening and what we should expect. Unfortunately, Ben had a hearing scheduled for that day and couldn't come with me. As I met with my doctor, she determined that I was not in a position to leave the hospital in fear of hemorrhaging, so she scheduled immediate surgery. I had to call Ben immediately and as he rushed to the hospital to be with me, I was being prepped for surgery. I had never been so scared in my life. Our parents had no idea what was going on, so Ben had to call them from Guam to tell them that we lost the pregnancy and I was headed in for emergency surgery. Everything was happening so fast.

After surgery, all I remember thinking was that the salmon was delicious (so weird because I hated fish, but I hadn't eaten in a couple of weeks)! I was still scared, but relieved to have everything behind me. I still hadn't acknowledged that I had lost the pregnancy and I wouldn't for months to come. Over the next couple of days in the hospital, doctors monitored me, gave me a blood transfusion (I lost two pints of blood during surgery), and were able to help me walk again. I remember feeling very thankful to be able to walk, as I hadn't been able to even sit up in bed due to the lack of blood in my body. My OB/GYN came in and explained what to expect from there, and my fears began to come back.

Gifts from friends while in the hospital

When diagnosed with a molar pregnancy, rare in itself with a 4% chance, it doesn't just end there. There is a 1% chance that women with a molar pregnancy (a benign tumor in the uterus) can later be diagnosed with choriocarcinoma, a rare form of cancer that stems from a molar pregnancy. I had to be monitored weekly by blood draws to make sure that my body no longer had hCG (the "pregnancy hormone") in my body, as that is how doctor's find a growing tumor in my case. For a couple of weeks after surgery, my hCH was decreasing rapidly, coming from >400,000 to about 32,000 which was a great sign. Ben and I had planned a trip with some friends months before to Japan and Thailand and my doctor encouraged us to go on the trip and not focus on the past few weeks, so long as I did my blood work the day I got home. 

We went on our trip (so amazing - more on that later!) and came back to our routine of work and blood draws/doctor visits. Right after our plane landed, I went to the hospital for blood work. That night around 8pm, I got a call from my doctor which was my first sign that something was wrong again. She confirmed the worst of our suspicions and told me that my hCG numbers had increased over that week, which meant there was a growing tumor somewhere in my body. Once again, my heart sank and I crept into a deep fear of the unknown. Ben was so loving and supportive, but I'm sure he was terrified as well. We spent the next morning meeting with doctors, getting X-rays, CT scans, and ultrasounds and spent that afternoon scheduling a Med-evac to Hawaii. Within 24 hours, we were off to see a gynecological oncologist specialist at Tripler Army Medical Center in Honolulu. We hadn't even unpacked our bags from Thailand yet, so we just took what was in our suitcases from vacation and were on our way. The Navy (specifically Ben's command and the JAG Corps) was absolutely wonderful in supporting us and taking care of us which is something I am eternally grateful for. They really made this journey a lot easier than it could have been. We spent the day we arrived, a Sunday, trying to find accommodations (thanks a million, Mrs. Toni - my "other mom" from my childhood!) and had so many people that both knew us and didn't know us pull together and do everything they can to help. 

On Monday, we faced our fears. We sat down with my oncologist and tried to digest everything he was telling us: I had about 20 tumors in my lungs, I needed several tests run (scans to make sure the cancer hadn't spread to my brain or liver), I was considered high-risk, I would need chemotherapy if I wanted any chance of survival (which came with a port-placement surgery), and I would feel like a lab rat for weeks - months to come. He couldn't even estimate how long my treatment would be, but we knew it was a long journey ahead of us. [At this point, only a handful of people knew what was going on with me. Many of our friends/neighbors simply thought we had disappeared because everything happened so fast and to be honest, I just didn't want to talk about it. it definitely got lonely].

The port in my chest

I received my first bit of chemotherapy in early August 2013, days after my arrival in Hawaii. It was so different than I thought it would be. I spent a few hours in a chemotherapy chair with several faces around me that I would get to know over the next few months, and the last 15 minutes my nurse told me she was going to inject the chemo. Can you believe that?! Hours of drugs to help your body tolerate the one drug that takes 15 minutes to put in your body. It hurt. I recall it being painful and I could feel it rushing through my veins, burning. I would receive chemo treatment every other week, indefinitely, until there were no signs of tumors in my body, so my oncologist suggested that I have a chest port placed in my neck/chest so the drugs would be spread through my jugular vein rather than veins in my arm, which was much less toxic on my body. That surgery was easy, but I never got used to seeing a catheter in my neck or being pricked with needles in my chest. It just eventually became part of life. Ben even learned some of the techniques to help my nurses, like numbing my skin before they poked me with the chest port needle for treatment. He was a great sport :)

One of my many treatments - My Young Women made me this quilt!

I couldn't wait to put my handprints on that wall! 

October 10, 2014 (two and a half months after my choriocarcinoma diagnosis) was one of the happiest days of my life. I was officially cancer-free! However, because my specific kind of cancer was really aggressive, I had to have 6 more weeks of preventative chemotherapy treatments. Up until this point, my body tolerated chemo pretty well. I had extremely hard days, but I also had days where I was up and about. I lost about half of my hair, but knew it would grow back. I had bouts of nausea pretty often, but medication always helped. 

A trip to the Polynesian Culture Center right before we came home.

At times, we were even able to enjoy some of the beauty Hawaii has to offer.

Right before my last chemo treatment, Ben had planned a surprise trip to take me to Maui for a couple of days to celebrate the end of our journey (approved by my oncologist, of course). Unfortunately, though, my next set of blood work showed that my immune system was almost nonexistent, which meant I couldn't receive chemo yet. I had seen the end in sight, and then it was gone. I didn't realize it at the time but I was slipping into a depression, still not having dealt with the loss of my pregnancy, the diagnosis of cancer, or any of the emotions that came along with it. I was living in a hotel room for months with no family or friends (other than Ben, who as dealing with everything in his own way the best he could) around. I was absolutely crushed that my last treatment was postponed. I had to be quarantined to my hotel room with strict instruction on what I could eat and was unable to go out in public. Ben was instructed on how to inject shots into my body, which would help my white blood cells (neutrophils) get back to a normal level. (He will tell you it was nothing, but he really was such a great sport! I couldn't have done it without him.) After several days, the shots worked and I was back on track to receive my last treatment, have my chest port removed, and have it all behind me. It was such a glorious day when I got my last treatment. Our dear friends from Guam came to Hawaii for vacation and we were able to celebrate with them. We were sent home to Guam just days before Thanksgiving and I had never been so happy. 

Thanks, Paij and Brent, for celebrating our big day with us! 

Sidenote: I was never scared for my life, which probably is large in part because I had a high recovery rate.  Right after I was diagnosed, I read a great talk by one of our church leaders that to this day, is one of my favorites. It was everything I needed to move forward, push on, and open myself up to learning what Heavenly Father wanted to teach me. Although this trial was hard for us, we knew that it allowed for growth in ourselves and our marriage … and I am able to look back and be grateful for the many things I learned. It was truly amazing to feel Heavenly Father's love every single day during that trial, reminding me that he loves me and is always with me. 

Almost exactly two years after being diagnosed with the molar pregnancy (to include diagnosis, treatment, and a one year recommended waiting period before trying to get pregnant again), Ben and I are SO eternally grateful for the precious baby that will be joining our family! I'll try and update the rest of the past couple of years in the next few weeks :)

Baby Sandel at 18 weeks