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Why my baby was my hero
Amy Blacklock, 29, Liverpool
Yawning, I scooped my 3-week-old from her cot… Another 5am feed.
It was February 2017 and Annabelle was fussing.
‘I know, sweetie, you’re hungry,’ I soothed.
But, as I rocked her, I felt a stabbing pain in my stomach. Putting her down, I doubled over in agony.
Suddenly, bile rose in my throat and I raced to the bathroom, vomiting. Tears coursed down my cheeks.
Behind me, I heard my partner Antony, 31, calling an ambulance. It’d come on so suddenly.
Paramedics came, rushed me to Aintree Hospital.
Antony looked after Annabelle and our son Jack, 1, while I was ushered between CT scans, MRIS and ultrasounds.
The doctor pointed to a blurry outline on the screen.
‘It’s your pancreas,’ he said.
It was inflamed – double the size. He wasn’t sure what’d caused it.
I later found out I had postpartum pancreatitis – inflammation of the pancreas triggered by pregnancy hormones.
‘It’s extremely rare,’ specialists said.
It only occurs in one of every 10,000 pregnancies.
I was put on an IV drip and kept in for eight nights while the swelling went down.
But five weeks later, it flared up again. I was in hospital three nights that time.
Then, less than a week later, my skin turned yellow. I was re-admitted with jaundice.
This time, I was referred to the Royal Hospital in Liverpool to see a specialist.
This is serious, I panicked. My mind raced... What if
I died? I was only 28, with two young babies.
What if I never got to see them grow up? It was too much to bear.
A scan showed I had a large cyst pushing on my bile duct, causing the jaundice.
Surgeons needed to remove it, send it for a biopsy to see what’d had caused it.
‘Everything will be alright,’ Antony said, squeezing my hand gently.
But as we waited for the results, I couldn’t shake the feeling it was cancer.
‘You’re young, fit and healthy,’ the doctor reassured me.
Pancreatic cancer was rare in under-40s, usually affected smokers or those overweight. Yet, just days later, I was in the doctor’s with Antony and my dad Steven, 55, being told that’s what I had. ‘I’ve got cancer…’ I whispered in shock. Dad crumbled as I sobbed. The cyst was part of a tumour on my pancreas. Pancreatic cancer was one of the deadliest – it usually showed no symptoms until it was too late. The silent killer, it’s called. ‘But we’ve caught it early,’ the specialist said. And it hadn’t spread. I needed chemo, then surgery. It was hard not to fall apart. ‘I have to beat this, for the kids,’ I told Antony. I began chemo, and
my hair fell out in chunks. Then, that July, I had surgery to remove the tumour – it was 7cm long, 5cm wide.
They also took part of the pancreas, part of my small intestine, my gallbladder and part of my bile duct.
When I woke up eight hours later, Antony was there.
‘They got all of it,’ he grinned, tears in his eyes.
‘That’s good,’ I said, exhausted.
I still needed more chemo – the treatment was relentless. But I responded well. Finally, this January, I was told I was in remission. It felt as if a weight had lifted.
I still need checkups, but each day I’m so thankful for being here.
Doctors aren’t 100 per cent sure what caused my cancer – but had I not had Annabelle, had I not developed pancreatitis, they wouldn’t have found it in time.
It’s been a rough year, but I know I’m lucky.
I’m just glad I get to see my kids grow up.
My babies are happy and healthy – and so am I.
It’s been a rough year, but I know that I’m lucky