Personal Narrative Essay: Open-Heart Surgery

On July 30th, 1999, a miracle happened. A baby and her mother both survived childbirth unexpectedly. They said it couldn’t be done. They said it was either the mom’s life or the baby’s. But they were wrong. That baby was me and that mother was my mother. My family as well as friends of my family had continued to pray for both my mom’s survival as well as mine during the duration of my mom’s pregnancy. And God triumphed. My birth was just one of many instances in my life where God prevailed and where man was proven to be powerless in comparison to Him. After I was born, I was diagnosed with pulmonary valve stenosis and a hole in my heart. My parents were told that I would need to have open-heart surgery to correct these issues. That was very

Once again, God overcame. These heart issues healed themselves and now, the hole in my heart is so small that it has little to no effect on my everyday life. When I was in seventh grade, I suddenly started having stomach issues. At first, it wasn’t that big of a deal; I had just missed a couple days of school. Then, it got worse. I ended up finishing 8th grade and middle school with a homebound teacher. I had gone to so many doctors, none of which could accurately diagnose me. They just threw a whole bunch of diagnoses at me, hoping that somehow, they could “fix” me. I went into high school with the same issues. I thought I would get a fresh start, but I was incorrect. I remember one night sitting on the couch with my mom and asking her why God would do this to me if He loved me. It was a difficult time for all of us, but after many prayers, God gave us what we needed: a doctor who knew what he was doing. Although I had to travel all the way to North Carolina to receive treatment, I was properly diagnosed within my first visit. My