Mother’s Day

From One Young Mom to Another, I See You.

Just as different as all of our cancer journeys are, so are our parenting styles and choices. My children were ages four and seven when I wrote this letter. They did not know their mommy had battled cancer twice during their short time on Earth. One day I will tell them the whole story and I hope they draw strength from it. But for now, I am so very thankful I was able to attempt to preserve their innocence throughout my treatments. They knew I had to go to the doctor often for my “tummy.” They were six months and three years old at the time of my original diagnosis and ages three and six at the time of my recurrence.

They knew they had to be careful with my arm because of my PICC line. Upon reflection, I know I drew, and continue to draw, my strength from knowing they need me. They are the very reason I managed to smile through it all. Now that they are a few years older, they have some understanding and knowledge simply because of my cervical cancer advocacy efforts and fundraising events. They both enjoy sporting their teal and white and proudly bring me drawings or things they find that remind them of cervical cancer awareness ribbons.

Dear Young Mom Going Through Treatments, 

You are their safe place; their steady fortress of love, their ever-present cheerleader. Your kisses make all of their boo boos better and your hugs melt away all of their cares. A glance from you can make them feel as though they can conquer the world.

Though they haven’t a clue, they are your total source of strength during these days.

I see you, and you are doing an amazing job. 

I see your brow wrinkled with worry for them. Worrying if you are handling this season of life the right way, worrying about them overhearing adults at school talking about their mommy’s cancer, worrying about what their tiny lives could be without you.

I see you grabbing your wig or hat, lathering concealer over your chemo-ridden raccoon eyes, and mustering up a smile to appear normal in the eyes of your children. 

I see you planning your appointments strategically so as not to miss a baseball game or dance class. I see you insisting the doctor’s office squeeze your weekly chemo session in on their jam packed Wednesdays because there are no after school extras to be missed. I see you biting your tongue and fighting back tears while the unknowing tell you how great you ‘look’ to be going through treatments and how wonderful it is that you ‘feel’ like being out at that ballfield and dance studio.

I see you soaking up as much rest as you can during their school hours and timing your medicines just right so you can make a futile attempt to be present during homework, dinner, baths, and story time. 

You just want to make sure they get every ounce of the’ normal you’ there is.

Though you don’t believe it now, your tiny sources of strength could never see you as anything less than their beautiful source of unfailing love.

Though they don’t know it now, one day they will. One day they will look back, and realize just how beautifully and courageously strong you were for them. 

You can do this. 

Strength & Love from A Mom That’s Been There 

Tracie is a mother of two amazing boys, and along with her husband, they spend their time enjoying the beauty of Alabama. Tracie is a Cervivor School graduate, Cervivor Ambassador and a well-seasoned Lobby Day advocate.

Mother’s Day When You are Struggling to Become a Mother

While Mothers Day is a beautiful day to celebrate motherhood, it can also be a difficult day; especially if you are missing your Mama or struggling to become a mother yourself. The journey to motherhood isn’t always smooth or what you may expect.

I spent six Mother’s Days wishing, more than almost anything in the world, that I was a mother. While I was thankful to celebrate my Mom, who is and always has been great Mom!, part of me was also sad; very, very sad. I mean truthfully I was sad every day for a long time, but Mother’s Day always brought it home.

You see, I have three younger sisters, spent years babysitting, and spent several years working with mothers and babies as a nurse. I’d had lots of practice. I knew without a doubt that I wanted children; being a mother was just something I always wanted to be. But at 25, I was diagnosed with cancer that immediately robbed me of my fertility.

The specialist took one look and said, “It looks like you have cervical cancer. We’ll do what we can to save your fertility.” Cancer? My fertility? I hadn’t even attempted to conceive. I thought I had time, a lot more time. But, my tumor turned out to be too large for the procedure I hoped to have. So instead, in January of 2009, I had a complicated surgery that included a hysterectomy followed by chemotherapy and radiation.  I knew I would become a mother, but I knew my journey to motherhood would no longer be a traditional one. 

After that, my journey to motherhood was a rollercoaster. It involved more heartache than I could have imagined. But, I did eventually become a mother.  We had our son, Carter, in 2014. 

After that, we thought we were done. We thought our family was complete and, to be honest, we weren’t completely sure we could survive going through it all again. But, Carter had more faith. He started doing things like pointing to an empty chair when we were at a table for 4 and saying, “someone is missing there.” We finally decided that maybe he was right. Maybe he was seeing something that we were too scared to see. Maybe we were supposed to try again. Amazingly for us our same angel of a surrogate was willing to try again. And guess what, it worked – the first time! We had our Caroline in 2019!

I am now the proud mother of two beautiful children, my Carter and my Caroline, who I wouldn’t trade for anything in the entire universe. I’m more than a little bit obsessed with them! I tend to take a lot of pictures and videos of and with my kids. And now, you know why… Although I’ve been N.E.D. (No Evidence of Disease in the cancer world) since 2009, I like my family to have the ability to look back on our love and adventures together. And, I like to share the happiness we’ve found with others.

Struggling to grow your family is difficult, no matter the circumstances. My biggest piece of advice is to remember that there is no right or wrong way to add members to your family. What is a “traditional” family today anyway? Sometimes you have to open your mind and/or get creative. For now, remember that you can be a Mother in many ways. 

If you ever want to talk to me about my journey to motherhood, please reach out. I have personal experience with fertility preservation, adoption, and surrogacy (gestational & traditional) and would love to help support you during your journey in some small way. You can find me @cervicalcancersurvivor, @infertilitysurvivor, and follow my family @crystalcoastfamily.

Sending love to all of you Mothers out there – past, present, and future. Happy Mother’s Day to you all.

Love,

Kristin

Kristin Ferree was diagnosed with cervical cancer December of 2008, at the age of 25. After treatment left her infertile, she vowed not to let cancer keep her from her dream of becoming a mother. Now a 10-year Cervivor, she lives in Morehead City, NC with her loving husband, David, two miracle babies, Carter and Caroline, a sweet rag-doll kitty, Lilley, and a snuggly puppy, Toby. She is currently taking time off from being a Family Nurse Practitioner to spend more time with her children and loving every minute of it.