“Cliché was pale as a ghost, her tummy was swollen, she could no longer walk or eat, and she was severely constipated.
“A mother knows when something isn’t right. The signs were there, but we didn’t know what they meant.
“And then came the bombshell when the doctor said, ‘Mom, your child has cancer’.
“We are from sleepy Citrusdal, but overnight our lives moved to Tygerberg Hospital.
“For nine months our lives revolved around chemotherapy, needles, hospital beds and prayers. Then came the big news, Cliché needed a bone marrow transplant. But we were given a bigger blessing – I was the perfect match, I could be her donor.
“In February I lay on an operating table and gave my stem cells to my child. It was the most frightening, yet the most beautiful moment of my life. And in March we heard the words that we’d been praying for: ‘The transplant was successful’.
“We returned every month for follow-up visits to monitor her counts. Some days I felt strong. Other days I just wanted to curl up on the floor and cry. But then I looked at her – she was the reason I never gave up. My stem cells were flowing through her little body. I gave her life twice. What greater privilege could there be?
“To the mother or father who has also received the diagnosis: I know your world has just fallen apart. Cry. Scream. Be afraid. But then know this: you are stronger than you think. Your child is braver than you think.