Mitchell and Ashleigh were planning their future together. Then Ashleigh made a shocking discovery, and their lives were about to change forever...
Scrolling through the bridal website, my fiancée Ashleigh paused on a photo of a princess wedding dress.
‘That’s the one,’ she smiled.
‘You’ll look beautiful in it, pudding,’ I told her.
‘Stop calling me pudding,’ she grumbled, playfully batting me away. ‘I’m not chubby!’
I’d proposed to Ashleigh in front of the Eiffel Tower. Now she was planning her dream Disney princess wedding, complete with three different dresses.
It would be expensive, but I’d have given Ashleigh the world.
Everyone loved my gorgeous fiancée. She had a knack for picking people up when they were down.
And to her nine-year-old son Jordan, she was the best mum in the world. There was no one who could make him laugh the way she did.
Ashleigh’s colleagues adored her too, and she was a regular at work socials.
‘Look at this,’ she said, returning home from a night out with her workmates. ‘I’ve got a lump on my leg.’
‘It’s as big as a golf ball,’ I exclaimed. ‘Did you fall over?’
‘No, I just noticed it out of nowhere,’ she replied.
It was painful to the touch, so for the next few days Ashleigh wore baggy clothes that wouldn’t brush against it.
A few days later, she started complaining of a sore back too, and visited her GP.
There, Ashleigh was referred for an MRI and CT scan. I was working away for a few days, so her dad Simon went with her.
Ashleigh called me afterwards.
'I've got a lump on my leg'
As soon as I heard her voice, I knew something was very wrong.
‘It’s cancer,’ she sobbed down the phone. ‘Stage four. The oncologist said my chances aren’t good.’
Everything stopped.
I felt numb as I tried to take in Ashleigh’s words.
She was healthy and strong… How could my beautiful fiancée have cancer?
I raced home to be with her.
Ashleigh was diagnosed with a rare form of the disease, Ewing sarcoma.
It was aggressive, so she started chemotherapy and radiotherapy straightaway.
Along with Jordan, we moved into Simon’s house so Ashleigh could be looked after.
Whenever I had to work, Ashleigh’s mum Diane would take care of her.
‘Mum, are you really sick?’ Jordan asked one day.
‘Yes, but don’t you worry,’ she said, ruffling his hair. ‘I’m having chemo to make me better.’
Ashleigh couldn’t hide her cancer from Jordan, but she tried to downplay it so that he wouldn’t worry.
Throughout her treatment, she kept herself going by looking at wedding dresses and venues.
Ashleigh was determined to create the wedding of her dreams.
And if she wasn’t looking at weddings online, she was raising money for the Clatterbridge Cancer Centre in Liverpool, where she was being treated.
Her story had spread on social media, and soon sporting heroes were donating items that she could raffle off.
‘Anthony Joshua’s donated a signed glove,’ she told me and Jordan excitedly one day.
‘That’s amazing!’ Jordan beamed.
‘And Tyson Fury and Harry Kane have made donations too,’ she said, awed by their generosity.
Over the course of her treatment, Ashleigh raised £5,000.
And with each hospital appointment, we were filled with more hope.
‘You’re responding well to treatment,’ Ashleigh’s oncologist told her. ‘You’ll still need surgery, but we’re happy with your progress.’
Nearly a year after her diagnosis, Ashleigh underwent an operation to remove lymph nodes from her leg.
The surgery was a success, but she developed a leg infection that left her in agony and barely able to walk.
‘Here, lean on me,’ I told Ashleigh as she tried to get out of bed to go to the bathroom.
‘It hurts so much,’ she sobbed, holding on to me for support.
The infection gradually cleared up, and by Christmas Ashleigh was only in a little bit of pain.
By the time Jordan’s 10th birthday rolled around a month later, we were all in high spirits.
'I'll always be watching over you'
Jordan was a massive Harry Potter fan, so Ashleigh and I decorated the whole house with Hogwarts-inspired decorations.
‘Happy birthday, mate,’ I grinned as Jordan came downstairs that morning. ‘Do you like the house?’
‘It’s awesome!’ he said, his face lighting up.
We had a brilliant day. Looking at Ashleigh and Jordan opening presents together, my heart swelled.
With her cancer removed and the prognosis good, Ashleigh could look forward to a long life with Jordan and me by her side.
But a few days later, everything changed.
I woke up one morning to hear Ashleigh rasping in bed beside me.
‘Ashleigh, are you OK?’ I asked, sitting bolt upright.
‘Can’t… breathe…’ she managed to gasp.
I thought she was having a panic attack, as she tended to get anxious in the days leading up to scans.
I tried to calm her down, but she was still clearly struggling for air.
‘You’ve gone as white as a sheet,’ I said, concerned. ‘I’ll call the doctor.’
Not long later, they arrived.
‘She needs to get to hospital,’ the doctor advised.
Simon drove her there, while I stayed behind to look after Jordan.
Ashleigh’s aunt Michelle was also staying with us at the time. Together, the three of us waited anxiously for
any news.
A little while later, I received a text from Ashleigh.
They’re sending me for more scans, she wrote. They don’t know what’s wrong.
She updated me throughout the day, but I could barely think straight.
‘Is Mum going to be OK?’ Jordan asked me.
‘I hope so, mate,’ I said, gently pulling him into a hug.
That night, we all went to bed not knowing what the following day would bring.
The next morning, Michelle woke me up.
‘You need to go to the hospital,’ she said. ‘Now.’
‘What’s happened?’ I asked, leaping out of bed.
‘Just go,’ she insisted.
So I rushed to Ashleigh’s bedside.
When I got there, she looked pale and weak.
Simon told me that Ashleigh had contracted sepsis and pneumonia.
It was serious. Doctors didn’t think she had long left.
‘But she was fine two days ago,’ I said, unable to get my head around it.
‘I know,’ Simon replied sadly.
When Jordan came to see his mum, he clutched hold of her hand.
‘Are you going to be OK, Mum?’ he whispered.
‘I’ll always be watching over you,’ Ashleigh smiled at him. ‘I’m going to become an angel.’
Jordan ran out of the room, collapsed on the corridor floor and burst into tears.
It was heartbreaking.
As Diane and Simon comforted him, I turned to Ashleigh. Taking her hand, I gently stroked her skin.
‘Can you come with me?’ she asked.
‘I can’t, I’ve got our little boy to look after,’ I managed to get out.
I kissed her softly.
‘Are you coming?’ she asked, before slipping away.
The days that followed were the darkest of my life.
She was only 27.
I went from crying my heart out, to raging at the doctors who were supposed to cure Ashleigh, to feeling numb.
During her cancer battle, Ashleigh had gone from planning our wedding to planning her funeral, just in case the worst happened.
On the day of her funeral, we all dressed in bright colours, just like she had wished for.
When the white coffin passed, we placed roses on the top.
As much as I wanted to wallow in my grief, I knew I couldn’t.
Jordan needed me.
He shut himself off after Ashleigh’s death, barely speaking to anyone.
He wouldn’t go anywhere without me, terrified that I’d leave him too.
In time, I set up the Ashleigh Whitaker foundation to create awareness of Ewing sarcoma, and to help other families who have lost loved ones to the disease.
I hope we can raise enough money to provide a team of experts, who can be on hand with advice and support for anyone who needs it.
Ashleigh’s passing has left a huge hole in all our lives.
She was loved by everyone she met. It’s only right that her legacy should live on and help others.
Mitchell Antrobus, 30, Haslingden, Lancashire
● To donate to the Ashleigh Whitaker Foundation, visit whitakerfoundation.co.uk