'We'll get through this you said,gripping my hand. 'Together we can beat anything.'
I smiled through my tears. It was such a relief to hear you say that, Kes. For weeks I'd been facing my fears alone. I suspected I had cancer.
I hadn't felt right since I'd conceived. I felt sick and really tired all the time. More than you should when your pregnant. I felt so different from when we were expecting our daughter Jordan. Now she was 3, autistic, and we were expecting our second child when this happened.
Cancer runs in our family and I'd often worried about getting it. I was only 28. I shouldn't have had to worry but I had this gut awful feeling. I tried to push my fears to the back of my mind. I couldn't mention the 'C' word. What if I needed treatment straight away? It was too much of a risk for my unborn baby. I couldn't face the idea of losing her. Now here i was, 8 months pregnant and in the Ayshire Central Hospital in Irvine being tested for Cancer.
You'd rushed me in that morning, when I started bleeding. We were both so scared. The baby was fine thank god!
But I wasn't.
The doctor found a tumour thesize of a tennis ball on my cervix.
They were sending me for emergency tests to see if it was cancer. The weird thing was, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
You knew now and that made things so much better.
You're such a positive person That's what first attracted me to you when we met (well that and your smouldering good looks). You believed that a good positive attitude could cure most things. I'd hoped it help cure me, if the worst happened. In the meantime, all we could do was wait and hope.
The next morning a doctor came to see us. He confirmed my fears. 'I'm afraid you've got cervical cancer.' he sadi. 'The baby will be delivered by Caesarean.'
All this time Kes, you stayed calm. You must have been panicking, but you didn't let it show.
'Your going to make it,' you said. squeezing my hand again.
You were there the following morning as I was wheeled into theatre, telling me everything would be ok.
Our baby girl - we named her Aaron - was perfect and a healthy 8lb 7oz. (Kinda glad it wasn't a vaginal birth)!!!! I cradled her in my arms and all the fears I ad melted away.
Me and Aaron were taken into the recovery room. You came, too, and the two of us chatted as Aaron slept.
Then suddenly your face went as white as a sheet. You froze for a second. It was the first time I'd ever seen you afraid.
'I'd better get a doctor,' you said.
Next thing I knew there were doctors and nurses all around me, wrapping me in blankets.
"Everything's goig to be alright, Sweet. Don't you worry,' you whispered.
That was the last thing I remember. When I came round, you were sitting beside my hospital bed, gently stroking my hand.
'What happened?' I mumbled.
'You started haemorrhaging, sweet. They had to operate. I was so scared i was going to lose you,' you said.
Honey, I'd never seen you so petrified.
'You didn't think I'd leave you, did you?' I joked.
I'd been unconscious for 2 days. You'd had to sign a form allowing the doctors to give me a hysterectomy, but it saved my life.
'Good job we hadn't planned to have anymore kids, and it gets you out of having the snip,' I joked.
I was taking a leaf out of your book. However bad things got, I was going tolook on the bright side. I had 2 wonderful children, I had you, and I was going to fight to stay with you all as hardas I could.
I stayed in hospital for the next 3 weeks. Aaron was with me and you brought Jordan to see us everyday. You filled my room with flowers and gave me special healing crystals to put under my pillow. I was still weak whe me and Aaron were finally allowed home. You made me a bed in the livingroom and took care of us all so well.
A month on (after taking some time to breastfeed and bond with Aaorn) I started a course of chemotherapy and radiotherapy. North Ayrshire Cancer Care - Kilwinning volunteer drivers ferried me to and from hospital never leaving my side, never once complaining when I had my head stuck out of there lovely clean car window being sick!!
Every night, you'd get me to visualise the cancer disappearing from my body.
'Your going to beat this, you told me.'
But the tumour was still there 5 months later despite the intensive treatments. I was devastated. I would've given up hope there and then, if you'd let me. But you wouldn't.
My specialist said I could try 1 more dose of internal radiotherapy - it'd take 24 hours to feed it into my body.
'It's going to be very painful,' he warned.
Not as painful at the thought of losing you and the kids.
I had to lie in a locked room, flat on my back and all alone, while the raiation was slowly pumped into me via long metal rods to the cervix. Those next couple of days felt like a lifetime. All the time, I thought of you and the kids. I had so much to live for. I heard your voice in my head, telling me to take each day one at a time. We had to wait 3 - 4 months to find out whether the treatment had worked.
Finally, we both went to the hospital for the results.
'I'm very pleased to tell you that your tumour has shrunk. The cancer's in remission,' the doctor said.
I felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
10 years on, I'm still in remission. I've been lucky enough to watch my girls grown into beautiful young ladies.
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart honey (my wee nickname for Kes). Without you, I wouldn't have found the strength to carry on.
your always & forever,