One precious month
Now I’m mum and dad to our boys… Off the telly!
Whatever life threw at me, I’d faced it with my amazing wife Andrea.
We’d only been together a year when I was diagnosed with testicular cancer in October 2006. ‘We’ll fight it,’ Andrea vowed. And we did. United. We then battled the ups and downs of three rounds of IVF, before our first boy Archie was born in November 2008.
Then, in March 2010, our twin boys arrived. But born 20 weeks premature, little Oliver lost his fight after two days.
At just over 1lb, his brother Louie remained critical for 20 weeks with breathing problems.
But me and Andrea, then 26, got through it. United.
And, in October 2010, we hoped to settle into family life. Only Andrea had back pains. It wasn’t a surprise to be told that they were stress-related.
But then, as little Louie’s health stabilised, Andrea’s began to deteriorate.
‘I feel dizzy and sick,’ she said one day in February 2011.
Driving to the hospital, Andrea had a seizure, so I pulled over to call an ambulance.
At Broomfield Hospital in Chelmsford, after many scans and tests, doctors confirmed our worst fears…
‘I’m afraid it’s non-smoker’s lung cancer and a brain tumour,’ a consultant said. We broke down. Andrea was given just a two per cent chance of living beyond five years. ‘Let’s get married!’ I cried. ‘Great idea,’ Andrea agreed. ‘Something to look forward to.’
Meanwhile, on 8 March 2011, Andrea had a tangerine-sized brain tumour removed and began chemotherapy.
‘Mummy’s poorly, but is having magic medicine,’ we explained to Archie, but he was too young to really understand.
Andrea never complained. Even when her hair fell out, she bravely shaved her head.
On 5 May 2011, we tied the knot at Gosford Hall country estate in Essex.
We had a short honeymoon in Cornwall, the boys stayed with their grandparents.
An escape from treatment, we took countless photos as memories for the boys.
Over the next five years,
in between radiotherapy and chemo, we travelled to Spain, Dubai, Disneyland Paris.
They were some of the happiest times of our lives and I hoped and prayed we’d get more.
But, early last year, Andrea started writing notes and recording voice messages for the boys. Then, on 18 March, five years and one extra month after her diagnosis, it was time for Andrea to say goodbye… She’d insisted I go with Archie on a London school trip. Afterwards, I visited Andrea, told her all about Archie’s day, how proud she’d be of him. She smiled, and I felt such admiration for her. She’d fought to hang on and hear about his trip. Then Andrea took my hand. ‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘I love you, too,’ I sobbed. ‘So much.’ And, surrounded by close family, she was gone... I didn’t know how I’d carry on. But Andrea had been strong for our boys, so I had to do the same. Andrea’s funeral at Chelmsford Crematorium the following month was packed. Now, I’m mum and dad to our boys, though Louie’s been with a foster family since he was 4, as he needs constant care.
But we see him all the time, and always talk about Andrea.
In March, we were in BBC One documentary, Rio Ferdinand: Being Mum and Dad, after being approached through a widowers’ Facebook group.
In it, the former Manchester United player revealed his struggle to adjust to life following his wife Rebecca’s death from cancer.
It was tough to watch and really brought home what we’d lost.
On the 8th of every month – the anniversary of Andrea’s birthday – we do the things she loved.
Eating ham, eggs and chips... Going to the cinema...
Nothing can prepare you for the loss of a loved one. But my kids depend on me. So, I fight back the tears and put on a brave face. It’s what Andrea would have wanted.
Even without her, I’ll always put on a united front…
I fight back the tears and put on a brave face