Doctors told me I’d zero chance of having a baby
ANIKKA BURTON was devastated to learn that cancer treatment had left her infertile. She tells us why she never gave up hope that one day she’d be a mum
AS I cradled my tiny baby in the hospital my heart swelled with love. For any parent the first cuddle with their child is a moment to treasure but for me it was particularly precious. I’d had chemotherapy in my early 30s for breast cancer and doctors told me that it had left me infertile. So little Monty was the child I’d longed for but thought I’d never have.
Getting cancer had always been one of my greatest fears. My mum was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was in my teens and died when I was just 16, leaving me devastated beyond words.
I was terrified that one day I would be diagnosed too and so was determined to live the fullest life I could. I went to university to study maths and economics and afterwards I began working for a ski company.
I loved my job as it involved jetting off to mountain resorts in Europe and North America.
At the time I never expected to meet the man I would marry but a handsome red-headed colleague caught my eye.
Before long Craig and I started dating and in 2009 we got married and bought a house in an idyllic Sussex village.
By then lots of our friends were settling down and starting families and we wanted to do the same.
Then in 2011 when I was 33 I noticed my left breast was swollen and went to see my GP. I was referred to a consultant, who told me it was nothing to worry about and prescribed antibiotics.
I wanted to believe him but my gut instinct told me something was seriously wrong.
The antibiotics didn’t make any difference and after months of begging the consultant agreed to send me for a biopsy to put my mind at rest.
A few weeks later in May 2011, my worst fears were confirmed. I had stage three breast cancer.
My whole world fell apart. I felt better knowing I was doing everything I could to fight off the cancer. Finally after months of drugs and surgery I had my last round of radiotherapy and was told there was no evidence of cancer left in my body. Since my cancer thrives on oestrogen I would have to take the drug tamoxifen to block my hormones until the menopause set in. However it seemed a small price to pay for living cancer-free. I was overwhelmed with relief and couldn’t wait to get back to normal life. Craig and I started thinking about having a baby and I went for a fertility test to see if the cancer treatment had affected my chances of conceiving. It was then the doctor delivered another devastating blow. I had no viable eggs left in my ovaries and had a zero per cent chance of conceiving naturally.
If Craig and I wanted to have children we would have to use an egg donor or look into adoption.
The thought of starting a family with Craig had been what kept me going during the chemotherapy. Now the future that I had been dreaming of had disappeared in an instant.
I tried to carry on with my life as best I could and threw myself into starting my own business (notanotherbunchofflowers.com), an online company that sells thoughtful gifts for people who are having cancer treatment.
The business thrived but over the next few years I often wondered what life would be like if I’d been able to have a child.
Then, four years after my cancer treatment ended, Craig and I decided to try for a baby one last time. We went to another doctor to get a second opinion on whether we could conceive.
Then came the glimmer of hope we had been waiting for. The doctor suggested that the first fertility test I took might not have been accurate because of the chemotherapy. So I stopped taking tamoxifen and took another test. Amazingly it revealed my fertility levels were within the normal range.
I was ecstatic but I knew that at 37 time was of the essence.
Craig and I immediately started trying and soon I suspected I was pregnant. I can still remember holding the pregnancy test with shaking fingers and staring at it in disbelief as two thin blue lines appeared in the window.
I couldn’t help but feel a tingle of excitement but I was also apprehensive. Being diagnosed with cancer had made me lose trust in my body and I was worried something would go wrong with the pregnancy.
IT also meant that I had to stay off tamoxifen for nine months, increasing the risk of my cancer returning until I started taking it again.
It was a risk I was willing to take. At first Craig and I kept the pregnancy secret but at four months a modest bump started to show under my clothes.
We told our family and friends and they were over the moon for us. The pregnancy went smoothly and at 38 weeks Monty was born weighing a healthy 8lb 8oz.
As I clutched him to my chest for the first time I couldn’t believe how lucky we were. After years of heartache Craig and I had finally become parents.
Thankfully Monty is a healthy, happy baby. I love being a mother and everything it brings – even if it does mean the odd sleepless night.
We won’t be able to have another child because it’s too risky to stop taking tamoxifen again but I’m really looking forward to seeing Monty playing with his cousins when he’s older.
Now I’m gradually returning to work and the business is thriving.
What’s more I now run an online support group for other young women who have been diagnosed with breast cancer.
Because I was only 33 when I was diagnosed I’m younger than most women who get it.
You face different challenges when you’re in your 20s and 30s, such as meeting a partner and starting a family.
Now we have more than 3,000 members in the support group and we all keep each other going.
Although I’ll always have the scars that cancer gave me I’m now finally living the life I always wanted.