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Monster inside of me!

It wasn't just a baby that I was carrying...


Published by: Amy Thompson
Published on: 2nd August 2010

Never in a million years had I expected pregnancy to be a walk in the park. But surely, it had to be better than this…?
Easing myself on to a plastic chair in the doctor’s waiting room, my boyfriend Jaz, 30, fussed over me like an old woman.
‘I’m fine,’ I insisted, forcing a smile through the pain that was tearing through my chest. ‘I’m sure
there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘You’ve been going through this for months now,’ he frowned. ‘It’s not right. And now with the baby…’
He had a point. As a teenager, I’d never had any health problems, was fit as a fiddle, even competed with the Junior British Judo Squad.
But over the past year, I’d been back and forth to the doctors for all sorts of tests since I’d been rushed to hospital one night with shooting pains up and down my left arm.
I’d felt like I was having a heart attack. At first, doctors had passed it off as anxiety.
Then an x-ray had shown I had an enlarged heart.
‘It’s nothing to worry about, though,’ they’d insisted, giving me a shot of morphine for the pain and sending me
on my way.
It was a relief to finally know what was wrong with me, but my joy had quickly subsided. Knowing what the problem was didn’t make it go away and, as each day passed, I seemed to get worse, couldn’t even bend down sometimes, the pain was so unbearable.
Still, I’d almost resigned myself to the fact that this was just how life was going to be for me… until I fell pregnant.
Now, the pains were worse than ever and I had to know why. Heading into my doctor’s office, I took a deep breath.
‘I’ve just found out I’m having a baby,’ I started. ‘And I wanted to check that my heart’s okay.’
‘It’s absolutely fine,’ he smiled. ‘Plenty of women with your condition go through pregnancy without a hitch.’
I bit my lip, nodding.
‘Maybe she should have another x-ray, though?’ Jaz suggested. ‘Just to be safe.’
‘It’s really not necessary,’ the doctor said, seeing us out as quickly as we’d sat down.
Jaz wasn’t convinced. After almost a year seeing me in constant pain, throwing up every day even before I’d fallen pregnant, it was safe to say we’d both had enough.
‘We’re getting a second opinion,’ he said as we left, calling University Hospital Coventry. ‘There must be something they can do.’
Thankfully, they agreed to see me and give me a heart scan.
‘At least it’ll put our minds at rest,’ I sighed, gently stroking my tiny bump.
I was only two months pregnant, but the thought of putting my baby at risk sent a shudder through me.
What if the doctors said I wasn’t strong enough to go through with the pregnancy?
I pushed the thought away.
No, everything would be fine. It had to be.
A week before my heart scan, Jaz and me saw our little one on screen for the first time at my antenatal ultrasound.
Its little heartbeat echoed around the room, sending a thrill of excitement through me and Jaz.
Boom-boom, boom-boom…
‘The baby seems perfectly healthy,’ the nurse smiled. ‘Congratulations.’
My eyes welled up as I looked at the minute image of our baby on the monitor.
Now, more than ever, I was determined to get some proper treatment, put an end to all the chest pains. I had to be fighting fit for my baby.
Going for my heart scan, it was my turn to be a bundle of nerves.
‘It’ll be okay,’ Jaz soothed. ‘Lots of people have enlarged hearts, we just need to find out if they can give you anything to help with the pains and sickness.’
Of course he was right. We already knew what the problem was, it was just a case of finding better treatment.
So, sitting opposite my consultant for the results two days later, I was stunned by the diagnosis she gave me.
‘I’m afraid the scan showed something attached to your heart,’ she said gravely. ‘It’s a tumour, Nicola, about the size of a golf ball.’
I sat there staring at her for what felt like forever, gripping Jaz’s hand so tight, I thought I’d break his fingers. Tumour? But didn’t that mean…?
‘Is-is it cancer?’ I stammered, trying to swallow the dry lump in my throat.
‘All we know is that it’s growing at a rather  alarming rate,’ she replied. ‘We think your pregnancy hormones have accelerated its growth. You’ll have to have a more detailed MRI scan in a few days.’
I nodded, my body numb with shock at the news.
Jaz just gazed at the floor, his eyes wide with worry.
I’d only come in for a second opinion, to get something to make me feel a little better. Now, this…
I felt sick as thoughts of what might happen tumbled through my head.
Was I going to die? Worse, what did this mean for my baby?
Over the next two weeks, I had to stay in hospital on medication. By now, I couldn’t keep any food down.
In just a few weeks, I gone from 8st to 7st.
‘And I was worried about getting fat during pregnancy,’ I joked, trying to paste on a smile when Jaz came to visit with my dad. They weren’t laughing, though. Worry etched their faces.
‘The doctors say the tumour’s growing so much that soon there won’t be enough room for the baby, it’s crushing your heart and lungs, too,’ Jaz explained. ‘But they can’t operate to remove it so early on in the pregnancy…’
He trailed off, but I knew what he was getting at.
If they didn’t operate, I’d die. But if they did, my baby wouldn’t survive. I curled a hand protectively over my bump, shaking my head.
We’d only just found out we were expecting a little girl.
‘I’ve got to give her a chance,’ I whispered, barely able to breathe. ‘I’m just not letting her go without a fight.’
From the moment I’d found out I was pregnant, I’d felt an overwhelming need to protect my baby. I’d never imagined that it was my own body she’d need protecting from, though.
My doctor agreed to let me wait until my little girl was stronger.
‘If she can make it a few more months, we should be able to operate without harming her,’ she explained softly.
Every day, I willed my baby to grow stronger. But by the time I was four months pregnant, we couldn’t wait any more.
‘The tumour’s grown to the size of a watermelon,’ my consultant said. ‘It’s smothering your baby. We have to remove it now or you’ll both die.’
I knew there was no point arguing. All I could do was pray my little girl would fight the monster growing inside me.
‘It’s down to you now, sweetheart,’ I said, cradling my tummy before my op. ‘Just hang in there for Mummy.’
A strong kick under my hand made me catch my breath.
I clung to the hope that this was a postive sign.
Drifting off under the anaesthetic, I closed my eyes, feeling my grip slowly loosen on Jaz’s hand.
Two hours later, I came round.
My hand instinctively reached for my tummy as Jaz’s face came into focus.
‘She’s okay,’ he smiled. ‘You’re both fine.’
Relief flooded through me, but I could tell there was something else on his mind.
Later, my consultant came in to see me. ‘The tumour was bigger than we’d thought,’ she explained. ‘It’s what we refer to as a monster tumour, made up of benign cells that didn’t develop properly when you were born.’
‘So why did it only start to make me feel ill now?’ I asked.
‘It’s likely that it’s been there your whole life, but only started to grow rapidly when you fell pregnant. Your hormones were feeding it…’ she added.
Feeding it? She made it sound like some sort of alien creature!
If I thought that was bad, though, worse was to come…
‘They call them monster tumours because they grow so large and develop teeth and hair,’ she told me.
I reeled in horror. The thing crushing my lungs and sucking the life out of my unborn baby had teeth and hair?! It was almost like having a twin baby!
I gagged at the thought.
My ordeal wasn’t over yet, either. For the next three months of my pregnancy, I was in chronic pain from the op, had to stay in hospital dosed up on painkillers.
The medication caused all sorts of problems too. I started hallucinating, had visions of beetles scurrying around the room, giant tumours covered in blood, teeth and hair.
What if my baby didn’t look like a baby at all? What if that thing growing inside me had already done too much damage?
What if I’d left it too late to let them operate…?
‘It’s okay,’ Dad soothed whenever I clutched my duvet, breaking into a cold sweat. I’d even  scramble up the bed away from the monsters that danced and skittered in front of me. ‘It’s just a bad dream, Nic.’
Then, finally, in December last year, right on my due date, I went into labour.
I had to force myself to look as the midwife handed me a tiny wailing bundle wrapped in a blanket. But as I looked at my daughter, I cried happy tears.
‘She’s beautiful,’ I gasped, looking up at Jaz’s proud face.
He nodded, smiling.
‘And she’s here because of you,’ he murmured, kissing me gently.
Holding Layla Sky in my arms, I’d never felt so much love.
Gone were the ugly visions of the tumour that had threatened her life. Instead, I looked into the most beautiful brown eyes I’d ever seen.
‘If I hadn’t got pregnant,’ I started, turning to Jaz. ‘We probably wouldn’t have pushed for more tests. That thing was growing inside me and I didn’t even know it. If it wasn’t for Layla, I could have died.’
Curling her tiny hand around my little finger, she gripped it tight, gazing up at me.
I’d been through hell, but I’d have done it all over again for that precious moment. We’d fought off the monster inside me together.
Taking her home, me and Jaz settled into our new family routine. And for the first time in months, I was free from the chest pains.
When I saw photos of my tumour, a bloody vein-threaded mass, I couldn’t believe it’d come out of me. The doctors even told me I was the first person on record to have a monster tumour removed while pregnant.
Now, Layla’s seven months old and couldn’t be more perfect. Seeing her smile and laugh reminds me of what I almost lost.
I’m so glad I made the decision to give her a fighting chance at life. What choice did I have, though? She’s the reason I’m still here.
I’ll have to go for check-ups every year to make sure the tumour doesn’t return, but at my first check in January, I was all clear.
Whatever happens, though, I know I’ll get through it. Just like before, my gorgeous little girl will always give me the strength I need to face whatever life happens to throw at me – monsters and all.
Nicola Ellington, 26, Walton, Cambs