Pregnant & fighting cancer

I’m making the most of every precious minute with my girls

Iwasn’t far into my second pregnancy when I noticed it, last October.

A lump in my left breast, about the size of pea. ‘It’s probably just a milk duct,’ I assumed, mindful your boobs change when pregnant. Only the lump didn’t go away. I mentioned it to my partner, Perry, 32. But working parttime for an investment firm, looking after my daughter, Macie, 1, and getting ready to move house, I had other things on my mind.

Then, the following January, I was made redundant.

Two weeks later, Perry caught sight of me getting dressed one morning.

‘I can see that lump from here,’ he said. ‘You should go and see the GP.’

So I made an appointment to put his mind at rest.

My GP agreed the lump was probably innocent, but referred me for a biopsy.

On 2 February, the day we picked up the keys to our new house, I went back to the Queen Alexandra Hospital in Portsmouth to get the results.

Perry was sorting stuff with the house, so my mum, Cathy, 51, came with me.

‘We’ve tested your lymph nodes and they’re all clear,’ the consultant said. ‘OK,’ I replied. ‘But the bad news is you do have breast cancer,’ she said gravely.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

Overcome by shock, I just stared into space, unable to take it in.

It was the last thing I’d expected to hear.

I thought of Macie, and the unborn baby inside me…

‘Am I going to die?’ I whispered.

‘We’ll do everything we can,’ the consultant reassured me.

After, Mum was busy phoning Perry and my dad, but I just stood there, absolutely stunned.

But there was no time to come to terms with my devastating diagnosis.

‘We need to get the baby out early,’ doctors explained. ‘Then we can start treatment.’

I was 34 weeks pregnant, so they couldn’t do an MRI scan to find out more about the tumour in case it harmed the baby.

Next morning, it took me a minute to remember – I had breast cancer.

Once it hit me, I had a panic attack and broke down.

Why me? Why now?

Two weeks after the earth-shattering diagnosis, on 14 February this year, I went into hospital to be induced. Two days later, I gave birth to baby Evelyn. Weighing 5lb 9oz, she was tiny but perfect. As I held her in my arms for the first time, I was determined not to let cancer overshadow such a precious moment. And it didn’t. I would treasure that moment for a lifetime…even if I didn’t know how long my lifetime would be. We spent the next five days in hospital, bonding.the cancer meant I couldn’t breastfeed. Back home, I was scared about what was to come. Friends and family rallied to help when I returned to hospital the

Shocked, I just stared into space, unable to take it in