Newlywed and dying
I was newlywed and dying, but I had one last trip to make...
On my wedding day, I looked into the eyes of my new hubby Uaina and I couldn’t have felt luckier. My soulmate had been born on the other side of the world. And yet I’d found him!
I’d emigrated to New Zealand in September 2003 with my then-hubby and our two kids Alex and Katie.
We later had Adrianna in April 2007.
But sadly the marriage hadn’t lasted.
It was a tough time, especially being so far from home.
But then, a few years later, I met Uaina where we worked as prison guards. And we just clicked. Uaina loved my kids and I adored his girl Linette.
Now we were making it official, surrounded by loved ones. The only tiny dampener on the day was that my family hadn’t been able to make it out to New Zealand to join us.
It’d been 12 years since I’d been back to the UK.
My mum Denise, 58, and Dad Paul, 59, had been out to see us in New Zealand – but this time the flights had been too expensive.
We were still so close, despite the distance, and they loved talking to Uaina on Skype.
Uaina and I had planned a honeymoon to Samoa, where he was from, a few weeks after the wedding. But we never made it there...
‘My back is killing me,’ I said to Uaina after the wedding.
It’d been aching a lot, but I’d put it down to a horseriding trek earlier in the year.
I’d seen a doctor already, but they’d sent me home, advising me to buy some Deep Heat. It hadn’t helped. ‘Get it checked out again,’ Uaina said.
Then I noticed a lump in my left breast. I saw my GP and was sent for tests.
In May 2015, just three months after we’d vowed to spend the rest of our lives together, I was given a devastating diagnosis.
‘I’m sorry to say you have breast cancer,’ the doctor said.
Worse, it had spread to my lymph nodes.
I needed urgent surgery and soon had a lumpectomy.
In June, the same week we should have been flying off on honeymoon, I went under the knife.
When I came round, there was more bad news.
The surgeon had discovered more tumours.
‘And the cancer has spread further,’ my surgeon told me and Uaina.
It was in my bones and my spine.
The cancer was incurable – I had limited time left.
I was sent to an oncologist and soon started radiotherapy.
After the diagnosis, my first thought was for the kids.
‘We’ve got to tell them,’ I said to Uaina.
We’d always been honest
The cancer was incurable – I had limited time left
with them all, but this time it was hard to find the words.
In shock myself, I still had to break the news to my family back home.
Calling my mum and dad over Skype was tough.
‘The doctors say there’s nothing more they can do,’ I gulped. ‘Uaina is looking after me, though.’
They looked devastated. The UK had never felt so far away.
I wanted to reach out across the oceans and hug them both.
After a year or so of treatment, I was speaking to my parents on Skype when my dad had an idea. ‘Come home, love,’ he said. ‘You and Uaina could renew your vows?’ Mum suggested.
It was the perfect plan. But could we afford the flights? I’d had to give up my job, so money was tight.
‘Leave it to us,’ my parents said.
They found the money, with a little help from family and friends. Soon, we had enough for me, Uaina and our kids to fly home.
In the cargo hold was my wedding dress.
In late May this year, after an exhausting 33-hour flight, I touched down on UK soil.
And, on Saturday 10 June, surrounded by my nearest and dearest at St Michael’s Church in Farnsfield, I wore my wedding dress again.
My children, parents and step-parents, my brothers Wayne, 42, and Gareth, 35, and my closest friends watched in tears as I walked through shafts of sunlight up the aisle.
We then moved on to Gunthorpe Village Hall, which had been beautifully decorated for the reception.
Fighting back tears, I decided to make a speech.
‘I need you all to be strong for me...’ I started.
I talked about my battle with cancer, my love for Uaina and the children, and how my faith had seen me through the darkest days. The whole day was so special. Over the coming weeks, we spent as much time together as a family as possible.
But before we knew it, we had to go back to New Zealand.
‘I can’t believe that we’re already leaving,’ I said.
It was impossible to take in the fact that, for some, it would be our final goodbye.
Now back in New Zealand, I’ve been Skyping Mum and Dad every day, but it isn’t the same.
They’re planning to visit us soon and I’m counting down the days.
I’m on a lot of morphine for the pain. Every day is a battle.
I know I haven’t got long, but I can’t dwell on that.
I want to make the most of the time I do have.
When you’re in this position, you start looking at your life and children differently.
There’s no point in crying and waiting to die.
I’ve got Uaina, the kids and a whole family who love me half the world away.
I wake up every morning thankful for being blessed with another day.
You start looking at your life and children differently