I was 19 when my doctor gave me the news that would change my life: “You have gastroparesis. It’s chronic there’s no cure.
A month earlier, I had been working full-time, going to the gym every night, healthy and in love. Then I got what I thought was the stomach flu. Weeks passed, but I never got better. Gastroparesis, which means stomach paralysis, left me dealing with endless vomiting, nausea, pain, and malnutrition. Crying, I called my mom and my boyfriend, determined to fight with the same strength I had seen in her when she battled breast cancer.
There was only one specialist in town. When I finally saw him, my condition had gotten much worse.
He recommended surgery for a gastric stimulator, a PICC line for fluids and meds at home, and quitting my job. I didn’t want any of it, but with my mom and boyfriend’s encouragement, I agreed.
The PICC line helped, but soon my world collapsed again. I came home one night to find my boyfriend gone lease terminated, account emptied, no explanation. A week later, I had surgery. My mom became my rock, helping me recover and find a new apartment.
Months later, I was still malnourished and needed a feeding tube. That’s when I met Jonathan. I told him my whole story, expecting him to run. Instead, he said, “I just see you.” We fell in love, spending more time in hospitals than on dates. My health worsened more surgeries, more tubes, no real solutions. At one appointment I asked, “Am I going to die?” My doctor said, “I don’t know.”
I was at my lowest when, against all odds, I found out I was pregnant. My doctor warned me I couldn’t survive it, but a new, supportive doctor gave me hope: “Let’s take a look at this little fighter.” I saw the heartbeat. That was my baby.
Eight months of complications and endless monitoring later, I made it to full term. My mom kissed me before they wheeled me into surgery. Jonathan held my hand. Then I heard my son cry. I looked at Jonathan through tears: “I love you.” My son Bentley was here and he had saved me.
Today, Bentley is three, healthy, and happy. I’m still fighting gastroparesis, but my life is fuller than I ever imagined. Now I have two children our daughter just turned one and Jonathan and I are celebrating five years together.
Every day, I’m grateful I kept fighting when it felt impossible. Because in the end, I didn’t just survive I got my family.
