- Fit and healthy, Katrina Kirk, 36, from Fern Gully, Vic, never expected to be diagnosed with bowel cancer.
- With hopes of one day becoming a mum, Katrina froze her eggs and an ovary.
- Now she’s a proud mum to Layla
Here Katrina tells her story in her own words.
Walking into the fancy hotel room in Melbourne, I saw a trail of rose petals and on the bed a diamond ring.
‘Marry me?’ my partner, Steve, 30, asked.
‘Of course,’ I gushed.
We’d been together for two years and now, in January 2015, I couldn’t wait to marry him.
Later that year I had an appointment with my GP.
‘I’m so sorry, you have bowel cancer.’
I’d always been healthy but the past few months I’d lost weight inexplicably.
Seeing as my dad, Robert, had died, aged just 30, from bowel cancer, my mum, Annette, insisted that I get checked.
Feeling sure I had nothing to worry about, that November my older sister, Skye, then 28, came with me while I had a colonoscopy.
Coming around after the procedure, the doctor grabbed my hand.
‘I’m so sorry, you have bowel cancer,’ he said.
I was only 26. ‘I don’t want to die,’ I sobbed uncontrollably crumpled in Steve’s arms later.
An MRI and CT scan showed a 5cm-long tumour and confirmed I had stage 3 bowel cancer.
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I needed surgery, chemotherapy and radiation to rid me of the cruel disease.
Told the chemo and radiation I needed to stay alive would leave me infertile, I felt like my world was falling apart.
Given the options to freeze my eggs, as well as have an ovary removed and the tissue harvested to be used in a pioneering fertility treatment, I agreed to everything.
Starting the process to preserve my fertility at the Royal Women’s Hospital in Melbourne, I had surgery to remove my left ovary.
After a round of IVF I had five eggs and three embryos that were created using Steve’s sperm frozen.
The next day, on Christmas Eve 2015, I started chemo.
‘Let’s set a date.’
The days and weeks were a nightmarish blur as I embarked on a four-month course of fierce daily chemo tablets, before undergoing surgery in April 2016 to remove the tumour, followed by radiotherapy.
Family and Steve were my rocks, cooking, cleaning and caring for me, because the side effects were so crippling.
‘We should plan our wedding,’ I said to Steve one day, wanting to have something to look forward to.
‘Let’s set a date,’ he agreed.
For fleeting moments while making plans, I felt like any other couple, getting excited about our wedding day.
READ MORE: ‘Family miracle: ‘Told we were infertile…then twins!’’
Then in November 2016, relief washed over me when I went into remission.
‘We can take on anything that’s thrown at us,’ Steve reassuringly said.
When our wedding day arrived in September 2018 I felt like the luckiest woman in the world as Steve and I exchanged vows.
And in 2019 we were given the go-ahead to start trying for a baby.
After the first embryo transfer, we anxiously awaited the results.
‘We still have your ovarian tissue.’
‘I’m afraid it didn’t work,’ the specialist said.
My heart sank. When round two was also unsuccessful, we reached out to Melbourne IVF, and I was placed under the care of Associate Professor Kate Stern.
Only the third and last remaining embryo transfer failed again.
I was devastated, especially when we discovered my five eggs that had been frozen were not viable.
‘We still have your ovarian tissue,’ Professor Stern said.
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She explained how she and a team of other medical professionals had developed a pioneering ovarian tissue graft treatment in Australia.
It worked by removing an ovary and slicing the tissue into 225 pieces and then freezing it to preserve it and the immature eggs it contained.
When thawed, the ovary tissue was grafted back into the abdominal wall and able to regenerate and allow the eggs to mature.
Steve and I were in absolute awe of the science behind it.
It was our last hope.
Having my first ovarian tissue graft surgery in December 2020, we had a three month wait to see if my body had produced any mature eggs.
It had, but sadly, none were viable.
Afterwards, countless egg collections failed and as time went on, it seemed my wish to be a mum was just a dream.
When the second ovarian tissue transplant surgery was unsuccessful too, I fell into a dark place.
‘Remember we can take on anything that’s thrown at us,’ Steve reminded me.
Going again in April 2022, out of four eggs then collected, one was viable and, with Steve’s sperm, we were able to make one miracle embryo.
Transferring the embryo inside me, we had an agonising two-week wait.
‘You’re pregnant,’ Professor Stern said, analysing my blood test results.
Happy tears pricked my eyes.
‘Finally, it’s happened,’ Steve whooped.
While it was amazing news, the life growing inside me was so longed for and so fragile and precious, I was terrified that something would go wrong.
But under close monitoring, as my pregnancy progressed I needn’t have feared, as each scan brought good news which was a relief.
When I was seven months pregnant, I was put on precautionary bedrest at home until my planned caesarean in December 9, 2022.
Getting out of bed to go to the toilet on December 8, I felt a gush of fluid.
‘My waters have broken,’ I said to Steve.
Darting to the hospital, I was wheeled into theatre.
Moments later, when my little girl, who we named Layla, was placed on my chest, I thought my heart was going to explode.
‘Look at that dark mop of hair,’ I stammered to Steve who was awash with emotion.
‘Wishes do come true,’ I whispered to Layla, bringing her home four days later.
I felt so blessed that doctors had frozen my ovary to give me a bub.
Now, I’ve been in remission for nine years, and Layla’s just celebrated her third birthday.
Obsessed with unicorns, she let out an excited squeal blowing out the candles on her unicorn cake.
Layla is proof that, if you never lose hope or stop trying, wishes can come true.
