Quicknews
Feb 18, 2026

I Gave Birth, Lost My Leg, and Fought Cancer — All In Half A Year

“The moment I learned it wasn’t just pain — it was cancer.”

It all began with what felt like a simple ache in my thigh. I assumed it was just pregnancy-related—a pinched nerve, maybe sciatica. But the pain kept getting worse. After my daughter, Liora, was born, I tried to push through it. I wanted to savor every tiny moment with her: the sweet newborn smell, her little fingers curled around mine, the joy of late-night cuddles. But soon, the pain became unbearable. One morning, I couldn’t even stand to rock her.

That’s when I finally went in for scans. I’ll never forget the look on the doctor’s face. The kind of look that warns you before a single word is spoken. The scans revealed a rare and aggressive form of soft tissue cancer. My first thought was: I just had a baby. I don’t have time for cancer.

“The moment I learned it wasn’t just pain — it was cancer.”

The Battle Begins

Chemotherapy started immediately. My milk dried up, and most nights, I had to hand Liora to my mum while I battled endless rounds of vomiting. As if that wasn’t enough, the tumor spread into my femur. The doctors told me amputation would give me the best chance of survival. I signed the papers without tears—determined not to let pity define me.

“I woke up with one leg and a mountain of guilt — but I was still alive.”

I woke up with one leg and a mountain of guilt. I couldn’t carry my daughter, couldn’t chase her when she started to crawl, couldn’t wear the dress I bought for her naming ceremony. But I reminded myself: I was still here. And that had to be enough.

A New Fear

Just three weeks after surgery, while adjusting to physio and crutches, I came across something in my medical file that stopped me cold: a note about a “suspicious lesion in the right lung.” My heart raced. Was the cancer spreading? Why hadn’t anyone told me?

 
“Sleepless nights — torn between caring for my baby and fearing the unknown.”

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