THE BRIDE’S SECRET
Lily Newton, 28, from Stoke wouldn’t let her deadly diagnos stop her wedding…
Giggling with my friends, I spotted a group of guys behind us. It was Star Wars Day, on May 4, and my first term at Bolton University was over so we were all sitting outside having a BBQ and drinks.
Watching as a cute guy came over, I was over the moon when he started chatting to me. ‘I’m Adam,’ he smiled. At the time, I was 19 and he was 21.
We hit it off straight away and discovered that we were both huge film and video game nerds.
On our second date, we went to watch Star Trek together, and from there, our relationship blossomed.
In what felt like no time at all, we were deeply in love
‘Do you want kids in the future?’ I asked Adam one day.
‘Because my dad passed away when I was so young, I want to be able to be the dad that he never had the chance to be,’ Adam replied.
Our shared yearning to start a family cemented our relationship.
My parents, Wihalmina and Neil, both thought he was great, too.
‘She’ll marry him one day,’ Mum told Dad.
And she wasn’t wrong. On Valentine’s Day 2018, Adam proposed when we were at the Harry Potter Studio Tour in London.
After I said yes, we toasted with a Butterbeer to celebrate. It was my dream proposal. Adam and I didn’t officially start trying for a baby, but we stopped using contraception with the hope that it might just happen one day.
Then it was time to start planning our Star Wars themed wedding.
‘We should get Storm Troopers and lightsabers for the day!’ I suggested.
‘How about a Coat of Arms walking you down the aisle?’ Adam replied.
We booked our wedding for the 4 May 2020 at a local venue and eagerly awaited the day.
Only, things didn’t go as we had planned. The pandemic hit and we had to postpone the booking twice, to 26 July 2021.
The excitement during the build-up to the wedding was ruined as we had been waiting over a year for our special day.
But we knew the day itself was the important part.
In April 2021, I was waiting for a call back from our wedding florist when my doctor called up to ask if I wanted to book my smear test.
When I was first offered to have it done at 25-yearsold I postponed it, because I was so busy planning the wedding and I didn’t have any concerns.
It had been two years since then, so I reluctantly said yes to make sure I didn’t forget again.
The same week, I headed in to have it done.
I was a bit nervous about the embarrassment of it all, but I wasn’t concerned they would find anything wrong.
‘We’ll get back to you within six weeks if we need to do any more tests,’ they said after.
I’m glad that’s out of the way now, I thought to myself.
Sadly, this was only the beginning. While I was at work,
We were both desperate to become parents
where I’m an optical assistant, the doctor phoned me.
‘We’ve found some abnormal cell changes, we need you to come back in for a colposcopy to investigate further,’ they explained.
Oh my God, something is really wrong, I thought. ‘Yes, I’ll come in,’ I replied. I was filled with dread. Maybe this is why I haven’t fallen pregnant yet, I worried to myself. What if I can’t give Adam the chance to be a dad like he’s always wanted?
I felt guilty and terrified – and was only 27-years-old.
Heading home afterwards, I couldn’t stop sobbing.
When Adam arrived home from his job working in care, I told him the news.
‘Try not to worry,’ he said as he hugged me.
I tried to keep myself distracted by planning the wedding, but fear lingered in the back of my mind.
I went in for my colposcopy at the end of May.
The doctor told me they didn’t think it was cancerous, but that they’d be in touch to confirm it.
Their words put me at ease a bit, but I was still worried sick.
Four weeks later, on 30 June, I went in for the results.
Adam had to work, so my mum and Auntie Joanne, 53, came with me.
‘I’ll ring you if it’s nothing serious,’ I told Adam before he went to work.
Sitting in the family room with the consultant, I could tell by his face that it was going to be bad news.
‘Unfortunately, it is cancer,’ they said. Panic set in.
‘I’m supposed to be getting married in less than a month,’ I said. ‘I’m only 27, how could this even happen?’ I was in a state of shock.
‘Have you got any children?’ the consultant asked me.
‘No, but I’ve always wanted them,’ I said as I started to sob.
‘Standard treatment is a whole hysterectomy,’ he continued. ‘But we won’t do that yet, we’ll do some more tests first.’
Sitting, crying, I couldn’t rationalise the news.
‘I still want to get married,’ I cried to my mum.
We drove to Adam’s work so I could speak to him.
When we pulled up, he was sitting outside with his head in his hands crying.
He knew that it was bad news, that’s why I didn’t call.
Running up to him, I wrapped my arms around him.
I could feel his body shuddering as he cried while I told him the news.
‘I don’t care if we can’t have kids as long as you’re still here,’ Adam told me.
We chatted and agreed that we must still get married.
So, the following day, I went ahead with having my wedding dress fitting.
Is this one of the last times I’m going to look like this? I thought to myself as I stared at the mirror, wondering whether I’d lose my hair and start to look ill soon.
The day after that, I had more scans done.
Then it was a trip to the
florist. The following day, I had a CT scan and found that the cancer hadn’t spread.
I was told that l needed a trachelectomy – an operation to remove my cervix which would make it hard to have a baby, but not impossible.
The doctor told me that Adam and I could get married and go on our honeymoon before I had to have the surgery.
Then, on the 26 July, I walked down the aisle at our quirky Star Wars themed wedding.
I tried to enjoy the day without worrying about the cancer inside me.
I broke down in tears a couple of times, but my friends and Adam always picked me back up again.
Our wedding cake had the Millennium Falcon crashing into the side of it. For our first dance, we were swaying arm in arm to Seal’s Kiss from a Rose when suddenly the music was interrupted, and the Star Wars theme tune blaring out of the speakers.
Adam and I whipped out lightsabers and started fighting with them.
This might be one of the last nice times I have, I thought.
I didn’t want the day to end.
Then, we jetted off to Iceland for three days.
We hardly slept because we wanted to make the most of it and explore as much as we could. Then when we came home, reality hit again.
My surgery was booked for the 2 September at Birmingham Sandwell City Hospital – no one could come with me because of Covid.
Waiting for the operation
When we came home, reality hit again
was surreal.
Then six-and-ahalf hours later, I was out. ‘Everything’s gone well,’ the surgeon told me. ‘We didn’t find anything unexpected, it’s just a case of recovery now.’
Breathing a sigh of relief, I couldn’t wait to be back home with Adam.
Over the next three days ,I felt so lonely and upset in hospital by myself.
Pulling out my phone, I flicked through pictures and videos of our wedding day and the honeymoon to cheer me up.
But looking down at the 25cm cut from my pubis upwards, I hoped that this was the end of the cancer.
That’s it, I thought. We’ll never be able to have kids now.
I was told that there was no evidence of any cancer in my lymph nodes and my margins were clean.
Things were finally looking up again.
I was discharged earlier than normal because of Covid and also because I was so desperate to leave.
Seeing Adam again made me feel so safe and calm. He took care of me – helping me wash, taking me to the bathroom, fetching my tablets, bringing me food, everything.
My mum came round to visit to make me cuppas and brush my hair.
I spent a week laying down all day every day, before I could start doing things again.
Now, five months later, I’m finally starting to feel more myself again.
I have to go for regular colposcopy appointments, but hopefully, that awful chapter of my life is behind me now.
Adam and I dreamed of having two or three kids.
But the reality is now, one baby would be a blessing.
It’s going to be incredibly challenging to have a baby, but I’m not physically or emotionally ready to start trying yet anyway.
The most important thing though, like my soulmate Adam always says, is that we’ve got each other.