My husband and I were blessed with our daughter in 2016. Last year seemed like the right time to give her a younger sibling. After a couple months, the positive we were waiting for finally appeared. We were thrilled and couldn’t wait for January 2020.

 

This reality was quickly shattered and became “there is no baby” followed a few weeks later by “you have cancer.”

 

Pathology confirmed that I had a molar pregnancy from which I was later diagnosed with Gestational Trophoblastic Neoplasia. The cancer had invaded the muscle lining of my uterus and had spread to my lungs. Before I could even process what was happening, I was starting chemotherapy. Our world was turned upside down and something that had started so positive quickly became a living nightmare. 

 

Over the course of the summer months I went through 7 rounds of chemo, which I finished in October. During this time, I tried to stay strong for my family, in particular my  daughter. Life for her, I tried to keep as normal as I could. I continued to go to work despite being told how crazy I was to be there. I left early on treatment days and only missed days when I just couldn’t function. I knew deep down that things were going to get better and I was too stubborn to let cancer interfere anymore than it already had. Of course I couldn’t have done this without my husbands’ undying support. On the harder days, he was there to remind me what I was fighting for and despite how ugly I felt as I grew balder and balder, he told me daily how beautiful I was.