In July 2019
My daughter phoned me to say
That doctors were worried about her estranged biological father’s and aunt’s aggressive cancers.
They wanted to test for BRCA.
I had never heard of BRCA,
Apart from reading an article about it written by Angelina Jolie a few years ago.
I had cast the article from my mind
Presuming BRCA was something that happened to someone else.
During the phone call with my daughter I searched up BRCA on Google,
And squashed a spike of fear
As I reassured my daughter That everything would be OK.
We waited 6 weeks for her aunt’s test results

In September 2019
My daughter’s aunt tested positive for BRCA1.
The strange-looking storm cloud,
Hovering in the far-off distance since July,
Moved towards my family.
My daughter’s father was tested
And we had to wait another 6 weeks for the results.
I started seeing a counsellor.
I needed to be strong.

During that time
I put into full service
Every tool of denial that I had gathered during my life.
I told only a few people about what was going on within my family.
It felt too big to share without knowing the outcome.
If my daughter’s father tested negative for BRCA
The storm cloud would dissipate.
My daughter and I needed to be proactive while we waited
So we organised an appointment with the genetics counsellor.
I accompanied her to the appointment.
Being in the cancer hospital
That housed the genetics department
Brought to life the nightmare
Swirling around my head.
We were told that my daughter could not be tested
Until it was definite that her father was positive.
We drove home to carry on waiting.

In October 2019
My daughter’s father tested positive for BRCA1.
The storm cloud moved closer still,
Too close for comfort,
Casting menace over my family.
My daughter now had a 50% likelihood of being a BRCA mutant.
I lived in a state of disbelief.
This couldn’t happen to my girl.
She was healthy, young, vibrant
And mother to my one year old granddaughter.
My denial shone bright.
My false smile tired my cheeks.

In November 2019
My daughter tested positive for BRCA1.
The storm cloud lodged itself directly above my family,
Aiming its fiercest menace at my daughter.
The earth seemed to shift on its axis.
Nothing was familiar anymore.
For twenty-seven years I had known how to reassure my daughter.
For twenty-seven years I had been able to soothe away her fears and shield her from danger.
Now, I was rendered useless as a mother.
I was consumed by terror
Imagining what might happen to my beautiful daughter.
I was enveloped in grief
Imagining the impact on the future she had been so excited about.
I was drenched in pain
Imagining the horror that must have engulfed her.
And there was nothing I could do.
I was paralysed.
I lost my faith in the universe.
It had always been my spiritual guide
But had betrayed me in the worst possible way.
I had no idea which way to turn.
I felt alone.

I searched for support groups,
Desperate to find another mother who would understand.
I found no one.
And then a husband of a BRCA woman made contact.
His wife was about to have a preventative double mastectomy
A year on from her BRCA diagnosis.
He told me that the storm cloud would pass,
That light would return to our life again.

And on the same day
I received a letter from a priest who used to live in our village.
He had been told about my daughter’s diagnosis.
He expressed shock and caring and promised to pray for her.
The universe was beginning to show me
It was still there
And still cared.

At my counselling session following my daughter’s test results, Exhausted,
With a heart bruised beyond recognition,
I spoke of how I felt completely impotent
As a mother.
I could not change what was happening to my daughter
And I had no idea how to protect my son.
He adored his sister,
And was struggling to come to terms with what was happening to her.
My counsellor suggested that I see myself as a lighthouse,
So that I could concentrate on creating the strongest light
That would enable my children to find their way.
I came home and searched online for a painting of a lighthouse.
I ordered a beautiful print that showed a lighthouse set high above a turbulent sea
Stretching its bright beams
Across a dark misty sky.
As soon as it arrived
I hung it on my wall.
Each day I would sit and stare at the painting.
I began to find direction In how to be a mother again.

PS
I have not mentioned
That my daughter has risen to every challenge that BRCA has presented to her
With the utmost bravery, grace, and strength.
My journey as her mother
Has been made much easier being in her slipstream.

Ah, Sophie, this had us in tears. It’s so important to have an insight to how BRCA impacts the rest of the family. And it demonstrates how many people need extra support. Thank you so much! xxx