What followed was a whirlwind of medical appointments—biopsies, MRIs, ultrasounds, oncologist meetings, obstetrician consultations. Everything changed. Our focus shifted from baby showers and prenatal vitamins to chemotherapy schedules, blood counts, and risk assessments. After weighing the options with her medical team, she made a decision that no mother should ever be forced to make: to begin chemotherapy while still pregnant. It was the only way to give both herself and her unborn child the best possible chance.
Watching her walk into the hospital, round belly showing beneath her coat, and sit down for her first chemo infusion was one of the hardest moments of my life. I saw a different kind of strength in her that day—one I hadn’t fully recognized before. The kind of strength that chooses to fight not only for yourself but for the life growing inside you. Every week, the treatment drained her more. Her energy faded. Her beautiful hair began to fall. Her skin paled. She often felt sick, exhausted, and overwhelmed. But through it all, she never once let go of hope. In fact, she held onto it more tightly than ever.
