Support people affected by cancer in Gisborne, Hawke's Bay, Manawatū, Whanganui, and Taranaki
“When I was due to meet my baby, I never expected that days later, I would be fighting for my life"
My cancer journey started with a seizure in 2024, heavily pregnant and full of the usual anticipation, I woke up to the blur of ambulance lights and the frantic realization that my world had shifted. At first, I thought I was in labour. I didn't know that a silent, serious diagnosis had been waiting for me for an entire decade.
The two days following that seizure are a haze of lost time and flickering lucidity. My baby was brought into this world via emergency caesarean under general anaesthetic; a hollow, silent beginning for us. While other mothers were holding their newborns for the first time, I was being rushed to Wellington Hospital for brain surgery.
The days that followed were a cruel irony. Instead of being able to hold my baby close to me, I was in a hospital bed completely separated from her in another town and gruelling through the basics of relearning how to live life.
Recovering was awful and returning home to look after a newborn and starting rounds of radiation and chemotherapy was overwhelming.
Along the way, someone recommended contacting the Cancer Society which I did soon after finding my feet again. I knew they had services in place that could help me and that there would be someone who would know what this kind of experience is like. I recall attending the Cancer Society’s Look Good Feel Good workshops and my supportive care coordinator has been an incredible help.
It turns out I’d had the cancer for 10 years and it had started at a Stage 2. Deep down I knew for years something wasn’t right. At one point at the beginning of my pregnancy, I even thought to myself ‘I wonder if this is what brain cancer feels like’. Standard tests in the years prior hadn’t picked up anything wrong.
When you’re diagnosed with cancer you have to expect the unexpected. Everyone’s journey is so different and it’s hard to properly prepare yourself for what lies ahead.
“Cancer turns your whole world upside down and your life changes in a matter of minutes. When you are diagnosed, they give you the "worst-case scenarios." They give you life expectancies. As a mother to a tiny, helpless baby, hearing those numbers is like hearing a door slam shut on your future.
But I refused to let that door stay closed. I am not someone who gives up. Amidst the talk of survival rates, I was asking my doctors how soon I could get back on a horse or travel. I needed to hold onto the things that made me feel alive.
The Cancer Society became my lifeline when the world felt too heavy to carry alone. The Manawatū Centre didn't just provide services; it became a second home and a place where I didn't have to explain the exhaustion or the fear because everyone there already understood it. My supportive care coordinator was the steady hand I needed when I was drowning.
Cancer is a lonely road. Friends and family offer beautiful support, but there is a specific kind of grief that only another patient understands. I lost a very dear friend to this disease last year, and another is fighting bowel cancer right now. I was inspired to start a support group of my own because no one should have to navigate this darkness without a hand to hold.
I had the honour of cutting the ribbon and speaking at the recent Manawatu Relay For Life. Everyone is touched by cancer regardless of their age. Speaking to children at Ashurst School ahead of the Relay, one boy I spoke to had lost both his parents to it. It can be a heartbreaking diagnosis, but we can find joy in showing support for each other, honouring those we’ve lost and supporting fundraising efforts.
The Cancer Society fills the gaps that medicine cannot reach. They provide the hope that gets us through the radiation, the chemotherapy, and the "worst-case scenarios."
To support the work and critical services the Cancer Society provides you can contribute by way of a one-off donation or become a regular donor, if you aren't already. Your generosity ensures that when a mother is told she has brain cancer, she doesn't have to face the cancer journey alone.
Your Sincerely,
Chloe