Cancer at 27 – as a mom to three children

My name is Vera and I am 34 years old. A few weeks ago I became a mom for the fourth time. The wonderful first weeks of life and the infinite joy over this most precious gift in life have lost none of their magic in the fourth child. On the contrary. I have probably never been able to enjoy these special days after the birth and the gentle peace of the puerperium so much – and above all appreciate them. My awareness that it is not a matter of course to be able to spend the first weeks healthy and happy with a baby has never been as great as it is today.

A clearly visible knot

I was 27 when my last child was born. It was the summer of 2014, the German national team was about to win the World Cup and it felt like the whole country was in an excited state of joy. But although I was overjoyed about my now three children and was really looking forward to the first five years, the general euphoria didn't really want to pass over to me. Something was different from when my big son was born exactly two years ago and my daughter's was over seven years ago. I couldn't quite grasp what it was, but I felt a strange restlessness when I came home from the clinic with my newborn son and spent the first days together with my two older children and my partner at the time.

I will never forget the moment when I discovered the reason for my instinctive restlessness. I ran through the room with my baby Mio * in my arms to show him our apartment. I stopped in front of the large mirror in the bedroom and looked at my little son and me. "Look, Mio, that's you and behind it, that's me, your mom!" I said and smiled at Mios adorable reflection in the mirror, while my eyes wandered further and I suddenly winced at the sight of my neck. What was that?

Panic spread through me

A clearly visible knot bulged out on the left side of my neck. Panicked, I pushed it around and couldn't explain how I couldn't have noticed this bulge before. Panic spread through me. My hand, with which I kept frantically pushing around on the spot, began to tremble. At least it didn't hurt, I thought, at the time still assuming this was a good sign …

My bad feeling screamed louder and more shrill

While my family and friends had gathered excitedly in our living room on the evening of the same day and watched the World Cup final in Argentina, the fear in me grew bigger and bigger. If I had actually tried to put aside the thoughts of the knot in order to be able to enjoy our "World Champion & Baby Welcome Party" in peace, my bad feeling screamed louder and more shrill, so that I could hardly manage my panicked rattling Head off. When Mario Götze made the national team world champion after 113 anxious minutes and the whole country celebrated the title with euphoria, I was petrified. There was no personal relief. The panic grew.

Infant on the chest, metastases in the throat

Even when my midwife, and later my family doctor, wanted to calm me down the next day and both of them assumed that the lump was definitely just a cyst that might have recently developed due to the hormonal change after the birth, I couldn't calm down. As much as I would have loved to have believed them and finally enjoyed my childbirth in a relaxed way: Deep down inside me, I knew from the first moment of my disturbing discovery that something was wrong. And not really …
Many fearful days, nights and an operation later, the doctor's words were an unimaginable shock: “Unfortunately, you were right, Ms. Käflein. You have cancer. "

Baby on the chest, metastases in the throat, fear of death in the stomach. Thyroid cancer at age 27

And I want to hear you learn to speak, do you hear?

I remember lying in the hospital bed shortly after my diagnosis, looking at my son Mio, who was a few weeks old, and tearfully promising him that no matter what happened, I would give anything to watch him do his first steps will run. "And I want to hear how you learn to speak, do you hear?" I whispered to him, sobbing. When he opened his eyes at that moment, grabbed my finger with his little hand and clasped it tightly, I knew that I would somehow make it …

And I did it.

Radiation, homesickness, separation, relocation

But it was a long, stony and often very painful road. The first operation was followed by another, in which my entire thyroid gland and 60 lymph nodes, some of which were already affected by cancer, were removed. This was followed by radioactive internal radiation, which I had to spend in isolation, separated from my three small children, whom I was not allowed to see for almost two long weeks. The longing and homesickness hurt more than the huge wound on my neck and all the physical side effects from which I suffered the first months after surgery and radiation, some of which still exist today.

When I was finally fit enough again and was discharged home in October, I found that we were far from our old family life. The children were unsettled by the traumatic experiences and the long time I had spent in the hospital.

The separation, the move and the new start as a single mom were another difficult test

I was still in very poor physical condition, and my partnership had also suffered greatly from the difficult time. After a while, I realized that the relationship had not survived cancer. Separating, moving, and starting over as a single mom was another tough test – just a year after I was diagnosed with cancer.

Does the nightmare start again?

It was my children who gave me tremendous strength during this time and kept the certainty in mind that there should be no other option than to get up again and again, to keep going and never give up.
Just when I was feeling a little better after a long time and it finally seemed to be getting better physically, my fate suddenly struck again in the summer of 2016 with all my might. During a trip to the swimming pool with my older, now four-year-old son Lukas *, I suddenly discovered a dangerously similar-looking swelling on his little neck in the same place as then. My life stood still. And the nightmare seemed to start again …

How my three children and I coped with my own illness and only two years later this new stroke of fate – which ultimately ended well, thank God – and how much strength I have always been able to draw from our deep love and bond with one another, I have in my book summarized. It was published in 2020 and has helped me a lot to process my experiences.

Pregnant – despite radiation

And as life goes, I found out on the very day that I handed in my finished manuscript that, completely surprisingly and contrary to some prognoses, I had become pregnant again after the radiation. Life could not have shown me more clearly that the chapter on cancer was finally over. It was time for a new, healthier, and happier part of our lives.

Life could not have shown me more clearly that the chapter on cancer was finally over.

At the beginning I still had concerns about whether my body was really strong and healthy enough for a pregnancy again, followed by completely uncomplicated, wonderful nine months. My fourth child, our little Tom, was recently born without any problems and in perfect health.

After all that was

Since then we have enjoyed the peace that was deeply reconcilable for us and our family happiness to the fullest – after all that was.

Sometimes I could cry with happiness

Tom has been laughing for a few days. Every time his little baby's mouth starts to smile, his cheekbones wiggle with joy and he shines his blue eyes at his siblings, his great dad or me, it triggers a real flow of enthusiasm in our family. Sometimes I could cry with happiness when I watch my four children laugh together, are carefree and simply completely satisfied.

I don't think I've ever been as grateful as I am today – as a healthy and overjoyed mom of four wonderful children. And never before has it been made clearer to me that even after the darkest hours the sun will shine again at some point.

* Vera has changed the names of her children here.