My daughter celebrated her fifth birthday today—a significant milestone that brings with it a wave of nostalgia and reflection. We have successfully moved beyond the exhausting newborn phase, where sleepless nights stretched endlessly, and the colicky cries often left me in tears. We’ve passed those momentous “firsts” of the first year: sitting up, crawling, walking, and uttering those first words. The toddler years whizzed by, filled with fierce independence and the challenge of caring for two little ones when our second daughter arrived. The trials of ages three and four tested my patience as I grappled with having a mini-me who was not only incredibly bright but fully aware of the world around her.
Now, as I look back over these five years, it’s hard to believe how quickly time has flown. But let’s rewind the clock to the time before all of this, as the story of my oldest daughter’s arrival is nothing short of extraordinary—both meticulously planned and entirely unexpected.
Life has a knack for upending even the best-laid plans. My husband, Jake, and I had been married for a little over a year when he began experiencing a persistent cough during a summer trip to the beautiful Okanagan Valley in British Columbia in 2014. Initially, we didn’t think much of it; the smoke from nearby forest fires was affecting many, even those with healthy lungs. However, as our vacation concluded, Jake’s cough lingered, and we both felt an unsettling sense of dread.
You see, cancer wasn’t a foreign concept to us. Jake had previously triumphed over stage 4 Large B-Cell Lymphoma nearly two years prior, so the cough was a source of unease for both of us, even five and a half years later. As we feared, Jake was re-diagnosed with lymphoma, this time with a large tumor nestled in his chest cavity. The treatment plan was more complex and daunting than before. His oncologist informed us that he would require aggressive chemotherapy followed by a stem cell transplant. The silver lining was that the cancer hadn’t spread to his blood, allowing him to use his own cells for the transplant—an option that carried fewer long-term risks.
However, that same appointment brought devastating news: the treatment would likely leave him infertile, shattering our dreams of starting a family within the year. We quickly took steps to secure the possibility of having children in the future, but it felt like we were forced into a situation we never wanted. Despite our gratitude for the options available to us, there was a lingering sense of unfairness.
After much discussion and tears, we decided to take a chance and try to conceive naturally. Here’s where the miracles began. A few months before Jake’s relapse, I had stopped taking birth control and began meticulously tracking my cycles, motivated by a desire to prepare my body for pregnancy. This diligence proved fortuitous, as our timing coincided with Labor Day weekend, resulting in a miraculous conception.
Weeks later, I took a pregnancy test and was overwhelmed with gratitude when it showed a positive result. It was the first time I truly felt the need to express thanks to a higher power, someone I had yet to know well. As we shared our news with our families, the weight of the situation became apparent: I was about to bring a new life into the world while my husband fought for his own.
Both Jake and I were just starting our teaching careers when all this unfolded. Jake’s initial diagnosis had struck during our final practicum weeks in 2012, and he was undergoing treatment as we graduated together. By the time of his relapse, Jake had secured a music teaching position, while I was still navigating the challenges of on-call teaching. In a surprising turn, I found myself stepping into his role, despite my limited musical experience. This leap of faith was daunting, especially as Jake faced the intense side effects of chemotherapy.
By November 2014, I was starting to find my rhythm as a new teacher and caregiver. Jake was preparing for his stem cell transplant, which required a month-long stay in Vancouver while I juggled a Christmas concert with my students, all while battling anxiety and OCD. My morning drives to work involved a complicated mental routine, driven by fears of losing either Jake or our unborn child.
I took the week off before Christmas to be with Jake, but stress took its toll, and I caught a cold, which prevented me from visiting him in the hospital. Thankfully, Jake’s parents lived nearby, providing me a place to recover and visit him once I was better. Most of our time together in the hospital involved resting in his tiny bed while he battled the effects of treatment. The dichotomy of nurturing new life while my husband fought for his own was surreal and challenging.
Jake was discharged from the hospital on December 21, 2014, just in time for Christmas. We spent the holidays at his parents’ house, cherishing our last Christmas as a family of two. The new year brought with it anxiety as we awaited test results to determine if Jake was cancer-free. On March 9, 2015, we received the life-changing news: Jake was officially in remission!
As I approached my due date, Jake struggled to maintain his white blood cell count, a challenge that would persist long after the transplant, particularly in his job working with young children. Finally, on May 17, 2015, our daughter, Sophie Grace, arrived, wailing from the moment she entered the world. She is a true miracle, intelligent and full of life, with a remarkable memory and a blend of her parents’ strengths.
Reflecting on our journey, it’s hard to imagine what life would have been like had we not conceived when we did. The timing of our pregnancy was far from ideal, yet it turned out to be just right. Those dark moments were never faced alone, as Sophie’s little kicks reminded me of what we were fighting for. Life has a way of reshaping dreams, and I am eternally grateful for the journey we’ve endured.
Happy birthday, sweet Sophie! I can’t wait to see where life takes you next.
For more on navigating similar experiences, consider checking out this blog post, which offers valuable insights into home insemination. If you’re looking for expert resources on pregnancy and infertility, Mount Sinai’s Infertility Resources is an excellent place to start. Additionally, if you’re interested in learning more about related topics, intracervical insemination provides valuable information.
In summary, my journey through pregnancy, a career change, and my spouse’s battle with cancer has been nothing short of transformative. It taught me resilience, gratitude, and the beauty of unexpected blessings.