LS’
but it was always a short-lived relief until
scans showed the tumours were back.
And to add to it all, I suffered another
miscarriage in October 2013.
At my lowest moments, I’d lie awake at
night watching Alex steadily breathing, and
question what we’d done to deserve this.Final throw of the dice
In a last attempt to have a family, at the
end of June 2014, I underwent private
IVF using Alex’s harvested sperm.
Incredibly, it worked first time, but finding
out I was pregnant caused a mixture
of emotions. I had a husband who had
been handed a death sentence, and the
thought of one day raising a child without
him was devastating.
Alex’s tumours were stable for a while,
but then, at 34 weeks, I was rushed into
hospital with a ruptured appendix. I was
kept in for two weeks – and while I was
away, Alex struggled to find the energy
to cook, wash and even get out of bed.
By the time I was booked in for aC-section
at 37 weeks,
Alex was in
a wheelchair.
Nevertheless, he was by my side
when I gave birth to Augustyna on 21
April 2015. I still remember the moment
he cradled her in his arms for the first
time, tears filling his eyes.‘Isn’tshe
beautiful?’ he whispered.
But once we were
back home, Alex’s
decline was rapid. He
was pale and lifeless,
with no energy or
strength in his body.
He loved his little
girl so much but he
was too exhausted tohelpwithfeeding
throughout the night and nappy changes.
‘I feel useless,’ he said one evening.But
he was still able to cradle Augustyna inhis
arms – and, as far as I was concerned,
he was the best daddy there was.
Sadly, just a few months later, in August2015, we were togetherathome
when Alex suddenly complained of an
excruciating headache, then collapsed.
Frantic, I called an ambulance – and,
after dropping Augustyna off with Alex’s
parents, I followed him to the hospital.
Alex had suffered a bleed on the brain
and his condition was critical. ‘We don’t
think he’ll recover,’ a doctor said.
I was distraught. ‘If you’re not ready to
go yet, you need to wake up,’ I whispered
to him as I sat by his bedside.Sharing memories
Amazingly, a few days later, Alex opened
his eyes – and, within hours, he was
talking again. ‘I knew you weren’t ready,’
I sobbed, taking his hand.
The doctors hadn’t expected him to
survive the bleed on the brain – it left
him weaker than ever before and
he was put on end-of-life care.
‘My daughter isn’t
going to remember
me,’ Alex said, pain
etched across his
face. Neither of us
could accept the news- how could we?
Alex decided he
wanted to spend his
remaining days at home - and in October 2015,
his breathing became
short and rapid, while his
body appeared bruised
and fatigued. I called
a doctor, who believed
he’dcontractedsepsis.
‘There’snotmuchmore
wecando,’I wastold.
Twonightslater,asI sat
byAlex’sbed,holdinghis
hand,hepassedaway,
whileourbeautifuldaughtersleptupstairs.
Afterwards,I feltnumbwithgrief,andit
wasonlycaringforAugustynathatgotme
through.Evennow,nearlyfouryearslater,
I’mstillworkingthrough
thegrievingprocess.
AugustynaandI talk
aboutDaddyallthetime,
andshehasa memory
boxwithpicturesand
someofhisoldclothes.
‘Daddywasverypoorly
andliveswiththeangels,’
I explaintoAugustyna.
Myheartis irreparablybroken– but
if I couldhaveourtimetogetheragain,
knowingit wouldhavethesameoutcome,
I woulddoso,withouta doubt.Alexleft
hismarkontheworldwithourbeautiful
daughterandhewillneverbeforgotten.
‘Hewas
pale, with
no strength
left in hisbody’
From the
HEARTEvery moment^
Alex spent with^
his baby girl
was preciousth
Rachel makes sure
she tells Augustyna
about her father