Losing a son
The pain of losing a son must be the worst pain of the world. My small Ivan died after two years fighting against a tumour in the head. My boy had only 8 years and he suffered so much. Since the cancer was detected it that was a torment, but he was always positive and if someone was sad he managed to cheer us up. He was my hero.
It is awful to lose a love like this. My Ivan was my great companion and my pillar. We lived for each other, since his father abandoned us. As you could imagine it was a struggle, but I was not able to face it alone
What really helped me was and has been the support of this treatment centre.
My whole life stopped making sense, it was not able to work, I did not manage to speak with nobody, I could not eat nor was able to do such a simple thing, like my personal hygiene.
When I noticed the state I was, I decided that I could no longer continue like that so and I looked for help. I was not living, I was only surviving. When I heard life stories as bad as mine, I realised that it was time to face life and move forward.
Today, I begin to outline goals, I want to smile again and who knows if one day I could not be mother again? For now, I live one day at a time. And this daily existence for itself has been a great victory.
Thank you for making me believe that it stills worth’s to try…
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