WORDS: MISHAAL KHAN. PHOTOS: INSTAGRAM @LAURADOWNTHERABBITHOLE
Laura Mahon, 31, is living on borrowed time
Writing a message for my daughter Sienna’s 21st birthday, I try to find the words I want to say, the advice I can give, and the wisdom I can share. Sienna won’t open the card for another 19 years, but it’s unlikely I’ll be by her side then. Because shortly after she was born in November 2021, I was dealt the devastating blow that I had 12 months to live. Now, 22 months on, I’m still here, defying the odds and making each day count. I’m not sure how much longer I have, but for the moment, all that matters is making memories with my daughter.
I started feeling poorly in July 2021, but I was three-and-a-half months pregnant, so I assumed the headaches, tiredness and sickness was all to be expected. My fiance Danny, then 27, and I had talked about babies since we’d met in 2014, and it was no secret I wanted a girl. ‘Imagine all the pretty dresses and cute little bows,’ I grinned. In August, we threw a gender reveal party and I was overjoyed when pink powder and confetti fired out of the cannon. I started preparing, decorating the nursery in pink and grey, with cute bunnies everywhere.
But a couple of weeks later, I woke to find my right foot was numb. I couldn’t wriggle my toes or feel anything and when it didn’t subside, the GP sent me to A&E, suspecting the baby might be sitting on a nerve.
From A&E, I was referred for spinal scans. But they came back clear and doctors didn’t seem worried, so I wasn’t either. I assumed I was being referred for an MRI at The Walton Centre – a specialist neurology hospital in Liverpool – just as a precaution. My mum Barbara, 63, came with me and after, we went to see the consultant together. ‘I’m sorry, you’ve got a brain tumour,’ he said, confirming there was a growth on the left side of the frontal lobe. But he couldn’t tell me what type or what grade, and because I was pregnant, they couldn’t use a contrast dye to check for cancer.
NUMB WITH SHOCK
Mum and I sat side by side, quietly trying to take it all in. Neither of us knew what to say – I didn’t even know what to think. I just felt numb with shock. At home, I broke the news to Danny. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, like me, unable to process it. ‘We can get through this together,’ he added.
Four days later, Danny and I met the surgeon to discuss our options – watch and wait, or surgery and a biopsy. The former was risky as the tumour could grow or spread, but the latter could harm our precious baby.
I couldn’t bear t
