Personal Narrative Analysis

I was 33 years old on November 9th, 2000. My family was made of myself, my husband, Doug, my daughter, Haley, and our dog, Josie. Haley was only 2 years and 9 months old at the time of the birth of her new baby brother, but I wasn’t quite sure how she would handle not having all of the attention. I could tell something was off from the moment I woke up that day. To start, Haley wouldn’t stop crying from the moment she woke up. As for me, I was feeling sick, and was having a few contractions here and there. I was packing my things for the hospital because I was scheduled to have a C-section November 10th. Afternoon came and my condition was getting worse and worse, things got so bad that Doug and I decided we should go to the hospital. I was mortified because I just needed the baby to wait a couple more hours. I could not have this baby come out of the birth canal, my

It all began in Ropheka Medical Hospital where my mother had just been accidently induced by a first-year resident. I was in a complete breech position with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. My mother and I were being rushed for emergency surgery, but she had already lost 4 pints of blood and was unresponsive. Our physician Dr. Ben knew the situation was grim, but he did the best he could to save the both of us. My mother coded twice before I was successfully removed and rushed to the NICU. By the next morning, my mother was comatose. Even though Dr. Ben believed in the power of medicine and science he still supported my father’s decision to incorporate cultural and religious factors into her treatment. On January 22, 1994, my mother became responsive. I know God gave my mother and I a fighting chance by giving us a doctor that took a holistic approach to our care.

An ambulance came and carried out my mom. I didn’t know what was going on, so many questions running through my mind, what was wrong with her, was she going to be ok. I was scared, more scared then I had ever been. My sister Sheridan who was 8 asked me “what’s happening?” through tears. On that day a little piece of me began to change because if I let her see my fear that would not help anyone, and so even though I didn’t know what was happening I responded “everything is going to be ok” even though I did not trust my own words.

They (my family and doctors), for the first night, weren’t sure if I would make it or not. I was touch and go, because my oxygen level couldn’t be stabilized. I would be on oxygen and my level would be normal, but as soon as they took me off, my level would fall again. However, they had to stabilize me before they could do any kind of surgery. During this time, I think my dad as well as everyone involved got a taste of what it means that any moment, any day could be anyone’s final moment. My dad stayed every night with me. The first night, my heart quit beating twice. The first time, my dad said, “She’s a fighter, she can get through this.”. Then it happened again and my dad fell on his knees saying, “God, please don’t take her now!”. I ended up practically living in SICU for 3½ weeks, just trying to become stable enough, so I could make it somewhere else. Both my mom and dad had to become durable power of attorneys, so they could decide what my treatments would

It was her first outing from the Ronald McDonald house since the operation. She did well considering what her body has endured. I was concerned we were doing too much with her, but Miranda wanted to go. Once, we arrived back at the house her body gave out on her a times. She was unable to stand up. Of course, this was upsetting for her. Kevin helped her to the bed, and I held her tight while encouraging her. She had faced each obstacle with relentlessness knowing God would carry her through. Right now, she constantly listens to worship music playing in our room to bring her the peace she needs to heal. Last night, Miranda spent several hours ministering to a young girl who has a baby in NICU. Miranda told her how she used the Message Bible to find scriptures for herself over the past several months, which she wrote over and over to memorize before the surgery. She told her each time fear would come into her mind, she would pull from the scriptures she had memorized. I just sat there in silence, listening to my daughter with joy in my heart. Over the years, it was heartbreaking knowing Micah and Miranda saw Kevin or me suffer. I wanted them to have a perfect childhood without pain or suffering. But, instead my children who are now young adults have seen more suffering inside the four walls of their own home than anyone ever should. Miranda spoke of seeing me have seizures last night and how it scared her to the point of anger at God. Then, she went to say ultimately it made her closer to God as she surrendered her life. Her strength of character, love of God, choices to believe in spite of pain, and courage were birthed during our crises. The very things I wanted to protect my children from created them to be exactly what God desired for their

My husband and I knew our daughter would have a cleft lip from an ultrasound I had at thirty two weeks pregnant, we did not know the extent of the birth defect. We also knew what an imperforated anus was. His brother was born with a rare association, VATER's. It is an acronym for a variety of birth defects. "V" for vertebrae, "A" for anal imperforation, "T" for trachea and "R" for renal. We both assumed our daughter had this as well, even though statistics state it was less than a one percent chance of being a genetic disease. His brother had twenty two surgeries before his second birthday, so I knew we were in for a long road. I was so upset, I couldn't believe this was happening to us, to my sweet new baby girl. I kept asking God, "Why her? Why would you subject such a sweet innocent child to this? Isn't putting Josh (my husband's brother) through this enough?" I knew I had to make a choice, I could be bitter or I could be strong for my daughter. I chose strength and asked my husband to please meet the care flight team at OU Children's hospital. I stayed up and prayed all night for my sweet angel.

My wife has a son who was born without the pulmonary artery and because of animal research; he was provided another outlet for survival. In his first five days of life, he underwent surgery. It was the longest days of her life as she reminiscence's, for twelve hour’s doctors could not get her son stable; his body was rejecting the human organ. Once he was stable, they kept his chest open for ten days to allow the swelling to decrease. Forty-eight days later, she was able to leave the hospital with her

It was August 13th, 2011, when my daughter Katelynn was born; 1 lb 13 oz. A premature baby, which doctors didn't give me much hope that she would make it. I remember the agony I was feeling, knowing that the most precious and most awaited gift was slipping away. My Heart was breaking apart into millions of piece with nothing for me to do but wait. On the outside, I tried to show a positive attitude, believing that the God all mighty could give me the victory; a miracle. Despite my hurt, I gave thanks to the Lord with all my heart for the blessing He had given me, to be a

It was March 2012 when I had a fever and this strange lump appeared. I knew my life was about to change as I was admitted into the hospital for my chemotherapy. It terrified me because I hated hospital . Hospitals remind me of blood and the dying which made them horrible. However, seeing babies and old folks who were diagnosed with diseases broke my heart. I wished I could help ease their pain. I saw a little five-year-old boy with needles around his body and a pipe in his mouth. He was diagnosed with liver cancer. “He is too small to bear that kind of pain; he should have been able to enjoy his childhood, why is this happened to him?” I muttered. His parents seemed to be alright seeing their son’s condition, and their words made me speechless. “God loves him more, He knows he can handle the pain, even if God takes him away, we’ll be more than content because we know God will take good care of him.”

It was early in the morning, everyone was asleep. My mom's conscious constantly kept waking her up. My mom woke up one last time and was surprised with the silence in the house, I snored when I was younger, she got up and ran to my crib. It was the silence of an innocent infant trying to catch her breath. She woke my dad and they hurried to the hospital. As an infant I was failing to grow normally. The doctors did many tests and discovered I had a severe heart murmur causing many heart defects, the doctors weren’t quite sure i’d make it,and because of that many complications came to my family. Stress and doubt filled my surroundings. My parents still had faith that God would take control. About a month later they did an Electrocardiogram

Losing a child is something that few really understand. Even a brief life offers so much that is special. My daughter, Jorden Courageous Allred, died February 3, 2007. She was just 1 day old. I held my daughter after she died, I will never forget Jorden as a person or my daughter. Jorden was born with a rare syndrome that caused her deformity and ultimately her death. I realized how little information the professionals had about the syndrome, also their lack of compassion and understanding. It was difficult to cope with the loss of my daughter, not knowing why it happened to her. The coldness of the professionals made that heartache worse.

My sister picked me up, and I hadn’t stopped bawling since I got the call. My heart ached. Like a child’s stomach after eating too much candy. I knew what was coming, and I wanted to find a way to make everything better, but I couldn’t. We both sat through the hour long car ride with very little conversation. I had a shirt of my Papa’s that I had brought, and I hugged it. When we arrived, I saw my mom and some close family members in the lobby, not where they would usually be. I was scared. I wondered if something happened that I missed while at practice. I wondered if I was too late. We waited for a while because the nurses cleaned him up from a bowel movement. After waiting, for what seemed like forever, we went back to the ICU. The cold, dry ICU that seemed to be filled with sadness. The minute I saw him, I busted into tears. Tears poured down my face like raindrops on a windowpane. I knew what was going to happen.

One night in the middle of December, 2014, something unexpected and monumental happened to our family. My dad and I were in a car accident. The collision wasn’t major; no one seemed seriously hurt at the time, and both vehicles were still operational. Fully expecting to move on as a family, we continued normally with life for a couple of weeks. Little did we know that my dad sustained a hidden, possibly permanent injury that took almost two years to diagnose. Although this accident changed the way our family operates, we cling to our faith in God and press on.

On May 27,2017 my mother's niece Karen who was 21 years of age was in the hospital for a malignant brain tumor they had found. She had recently gone to the hospital because she was experiencing constant headaches, but they never thought it to be a tumor. One day at her home, she passed out and was rushed to the hospital and she went into a coma. She was in a coma for a whole week. We got news of this event and drove to Georgia, where she lives to go visit her at the hospital to send out get well prayers. Since she was in a coma, she was attached to a mechanical ventilator no longer being able to breath on her own. She could no longer control her temperature, or other body functions and had a feeding tube attached. We we all there in hopes that she would get better, but doctors gave us news that her

As I walked through the hospital doors, my heart began to race faster by the second. I walked towards my mother 's room, praying that everything was okay. My aunt walked out of my mother 's room and looked at me as though her world had shattered. Tears began to fall immediately from my eyes; all I could do was run away, running away from the worse fear that could ever happen. My aunt followed me out of the building, grabbing my arm and pulled me into a hug. She continued to soothe me, letting me know that everything will be okay. She explained to me what happened to my mother, and how she passed away after her second heart attack. Although I continued to cry, there was not much I could do other than walk towards my mother’s room and cry into her cold stiff arms. While holding my mother, I prayed that God would help me through this difficult time, and to allow me to understand why everything happened, especially to the one person that felt I needed the most. At that moment I promised myself and my mother that I would continue what she started; I would do everything in my power to finish school, become successful, and help everyone I possibly can. At this moment, I did not know that this promise would be one that I would continue to keep for the rest of my life.