As I held my newborn baby in my arms, I felt so blessed. Born on my husband Tony’s 31st birthday in January 2016, Amelia was our sixth child.
Six children may seem like too many for some, but ever since Tony and I married in 2007, we were always certain we wanted a big family. Meeting as part of our religious group at university in 2006 we immediately clicked, and both coming from big religious families, it made sense that we’d want a big brood of our own, too.
By the time Amelia was born, we had a full house - she joined Landon, then seven, Emma, six, Lily, four, Sophie, three, and Tanner, two. And while at times it was chaotic, we loved the buzz of family life and, looking into Amelia’s gorgeous eyes, we were overwhelmed with love.
But even with all the love in the world, our family wasn’t without its struggles. Eight years earlier, we found out that Tony had a then non-cancerous brain tumour.
He had his first bout of brain surgery in 2009. While it had affected the movement in his left arm, Tony was otherwise well and able to get on with life, going to work as a secondary-school teacher and playing with the kids when he got home.
But at his regular scans, it soon became apparent that his low-grade tumour was growing. We can’t guarantee that the tumour won't limit Tony’s life,” his doctor explained, frankly. Looking at the scan of the tangerine-sized mass in his head, I was terrified, but knew we couldn’t live in fear.
By March 2016, when our little Amelia was only two months old, doctors gave us the worst news of all his tumour had grown into a grade-four glioblastoma, meaning his cancer was terminal. I prayed and prayed that things would turn out differently, but there was little we could do other than keep Tony comfortable.
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