The tragic rea­son he begged me to leave

Pick Me Up! - - CONTENTS -

I was de­ter­mined to stand by my man, no mat­ter what her fella begged her to go, but Ali­cia Thomasen, 25, from Top Val­ley, notts, knew it wasn’t the end of their story

We’ve all read those sto­ries.

The ones where a cou­ple see that longed­for blue line on a preg­nancy test and mo­ments later, are sob­bing and hug­ging.

But when my boyfriend Adam, 21, and I stood in my bath­room that morn­ing in Oc­to­ber 2013 and saw the blue line on our test ap­pear, there were no shouts of joy.

In­stead, Adam wrapped his arms round me as tears welled.

‘I’m so scared,’ I said. ‘What if it hap­pens again?’

To­gether since that July, I’d first be­come preg­nant in Septem­ber. It was an ac­ci­dent, but we’d been so, so ex­cited.

I al­ready had a lit­tle boy Ja­cob, 1, from a pre­vi­ous re­la­tion­ship.

But, just four weeks on, I’d mis­car­ried. It broke our hearts – so now, know­ing I was preg­nant again, it was fear, not ex­cite­ment I felt.

‘I don’t want to tell Ja­cob,’ I said. I didn’t want him to get his hopes up if it didn’t hap­pen, not again. But weeks passed, and our baby hung on.

‘This is re­ally hap­pen­ing!’ I beamed.

Buy­ing baby es­sen­tials, think­ing of ways we could dec­o­rate our spare bed­room, Adam and I be­gan to be­lieve that we were re­ally go­ing to be par­ents. But with one worry melt­ing away, an­other emerged...

Adam be­came clumsy and started drop­ping things.

‘It’s like my hands aren’t work­ing!’ he’d com­plain.

Over time, things wors­ened and I urged him to see a doc­tor.

In De­cem­ber 2013, Adam went for an MRI at King’s Mill Hos­pi­tal, Sut­ton-in-ash­field.

As we waited for his re­sults in­side the doc­tor’s of­fice, my stom­ach was in knots.

Judg­ing from the look on the doc­tor’s face, I knew it wasn’t good news.

‘I’m afraid that Adam has mul­ti­ple scle­ro­sis,’ the doc­tor ex­plained to us.

‘What is it?’ I said, grab­bing Adam’s hand for sup­port.

Nei­ther of us knew what he was talk­ing about.

‘MS is a con­di­tion which can af­fect the brain and the spinal cord. It causes a wide range of po­ten­tial symp­toms,’ the doc­tor said. ‘It ex­plains Adam’s is­sue with move­ment and his sense of bal­ance.’

The doc­tor ad­mit­ted Adam would de­te­ri­o­rate, might even need a wheel­chair in the fu­ture.

See­ing Adam’s heart­bro­ken face made me want to cry.

We should have been in a happy lit­tle bub­ble, ex­cited by the ar­rival of our baby. In­stead, Adam’s un­ex­pected di­ag­no­sis turned it all up­side-down.

How would we cope with this?

I tried my best to stay pos­i­tive for Adam, but he was so scared of los­ing his mo­bil­ity.

‘You should be with some­one else,’ Adam said tear­fully one night, when I was seven months gone. ‘You de­serve so much bet­ter.’

I looked at him as if he was bonkers. Adam was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

‘I’m go­ing nowhere,’

I told him firmly.

Adam thought I was just be­ing kind, even got his mum Claire, 41, to tell me it was fine if I wanted to leave him.

‘I’m never go­ing to leave Adam, not in a mil­lion years!’ I said, de­fi­antly.

A cou­ple of months later, in May 2014, our daugh­ter Demi was born.

By then, Adam was on med­i­ca­tion and be­gan to cope with liv­ing with MS.

It was a big ad­just­ment, but I was de­ter­mined to stand by my man, no mat­ter what.

I could never break up our fam­ily.

Two years later, we wel­comed our sec­ond daugh­ter Grace.

Now with two beau­ti­ful daugh­ters, we were happy, and med­i­ca­tion was man­ag­ing Adam’s symp­toms.

How­ever, when Grace was three months, his con­di­tion be­gan to de­te­ri­o­rate.

He was forced to quit his job as a brick­layer, which he loved. It was a mas­sive blow.

Worse, his hands be­came so weak I had to cut up his din­ner and help him use the toi­let.

Mor­ti­fied, his pride was in tat­ters.

Then, in Novem­ber 2016, while we were in the pub one evening, Adam’s legs col­lapsed be­neath him.

I had to get him up from the floor and help him into the car, as Demi and Grace cried around us, con­fused.

‘Drunk driv­ing with

All I ever wanted was to be­come Adam’s wife and now it was of­fi­cial!

chil­dren, how aw­ful,’ a cou­ple sneered be­side us.

‘He’s not drunk!’ I yelled back, en­raged. ‘He’s got MS!’

I was seething, couldn’t stand peo­ple judg­ing Adam.

Life was so cruel. I just wanted Adam to be well and fo­cus on rais­ing our girls.

Trag­i­cally, at the end of De­cem­ber 2016, the mus­cles in Adam’s left side had de­te­ri­o­rated so badly, he had to use a wheel­chair full time.

Adam, still only 24, went into a deep de­pres­sion and re­fused to leave the house.

I tried my best to make him smile, re­minded him how much the girls and I loved him.

Then, one evening, Adam gave me the big­gest sur­prise.

As we were snug­gled up on the sofa watch­ing a film, Adam pulled out a di­a­mond ring. And...

‘Will you marry me, Ali­cia?’ Adam asked.

‘Of course!’ I said, burst­ing into tears and hug­ging him.

He’d got his dad Stephen, 44, to go out and buy the ring, but there was one more sur­prise in store…

‘You’re not go­ing to push me down the aisle,’ Adam said. ‘I want to be able to stand and meet you at the al­tar.’

I was shocked.

‘Are you sure, Adam? I don’t mind if you’re in a wheel­chair.’

He hadn’t stood in months, let alone walked. But he vowed he’d prac­tice and throw him­self into physio.

We prac­tised at home ev­ery day, walk­ing from one end of a room to an­other – and Adam’s con­fi­dence and abil­ity grew and grew…

It was amaz­ing, see­ing how strong and de­ter­mined he was, com­pared to how low he’d been only weeks ear­lier.

He went to see his phys­io­ther­a­pist, who was sure Adam would be able to stand at the wed­ding.

Then, in June this year, our big day fi­nally ar­rived. We’d booked

Rams­dale

Park Golf

Cen­tre, sur­rounded by all of our close friends and fam­ily.

Be­fore I walked up the aisle, I waited ner­vously with my grandad John, who was giv­ing me away. I was ex­cited to see Adam at the al­tar.

As soon as we started up the aisle, all I could see was Adam stand­ing there un­aided!

I broke down in tears – I was so proud. His smile was so happy, it was in­cred­i­ble how far he’d come in just a few months.

As we said our vows, I felt so emo­tional – but for all the right rea­sons. All

I ever wanted was to be­come Adam’s wife and now it was of­fi­cial!

We were so happy, it made all the tough times worth it.

We even had a first dance to At­lantic Starr’s Al­ways.

In­stead of Adam hold­ing my waist, I had my hands on his waist to help steady him, and he had his arms around my neck.

It was a beau­ti­ful mo­ment. Now, Adam uses a walk­ing stick on his good days, when he’s feel­ing strong.

But he still uses his mo­bil­ity scooter when he goes out, and his wheel­chair if he gets tired.

Look­ing back, our spe­cial day gave Adam so much hope.

It’s crazy how he thought I should have left him. Of course I’d stand by him.

I’ll never for­get the day my wheel­chair-bound hubby walked down the aisle.

Adam is proof that true love re­ally does con­quer all.

Such an emo­tional day... Adam in hos­pi­tal for treat­ment

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