I had two choices: Kill my son, or my cancer

Edith and her year-year-old son Ethan. [Elvis Ogina, Standard]

It was nothing, she would tell herself, touching the small dry patch below her right breast as she took in her reflection in the mirror. She was a woman truly in tune with her body and she felt sure that the only unusual thing about it then was the little bubba growing inside her. Yes, she was pregnant. It was the best news she had heard in a while.

And in that one moment, cradling her barely-there pregnant belly, she realised that life was great. A baby; her baby, was everything she had ever wanted. In that space in time in her 31 years of existence, she felt truly happy.