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Publish my child’s story | Inspiring, heartbreaking, heartwarming

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Find out how I published my child’s story to help others in a similar situation, pay tribute to him, and raise awareness. SellUsYourStory.com provide a free service to help get your stories published for the highest fee possible.

Publish my child’s story in a magazine or newspaper

Would you like to tell the story of your son or daughter? Have they been through something heartbreaking, inspired others, or perhaps something uplifting. If you’ve been thinking ‘I want to publish my child’s story’ to help others in a similar situation, or provide a tribute to them, we’re here to help. If you have a story you’d like to share get in touch with us today.

SellUsYourStory.com provides a free service to get your story told, and get you the highest payment possible (for you, your child, or a charity of your choice).

One of our friendly reporters will be happy to explain the process and answer any questions you might have – with no obligation for you to go ahead.

We love helping people share what they have been through with the media – be it newspapers, TV and/or women’s magazines – whilst securing them the best possible fee and coverage.

We find interviewees are often able to help other people who may be going through a similar situation or they are able to raise awareness for a particular cause or charity.

Tell my child’s story now: Simply tell us a little about his or her story. Fill out the Story Valuation form on this page. We’ll let you know if we can help you, and how much your story is worth.

Tell my child’s story: My little boy learned to walk in his new legs

share my child's story to help raise awareness

We recently helped Terri Lewsley share her heartwarming story about her son, Taylor, learning to walk on his new prosthetic legs.

After losing his limbs to meningitis as a baby, Terri was overwhelmed at how quickly three-year-old Taylor took his first unaided steps.

We arranged for Taylor’s story to be sent out on our news wire – which means it was sent directly to all of the national newspapers – and for it to also appear in two weekly women’s magazines – Best Magazine and Real People magazine.

Recent client: Taylor’s story

Peaking over the cot, my heart just melted.

“He’s so perfect,” I said, stroking my little boy’s rosy cheeks. I couldn’t believe my son, Taylor, was nearly eight months old.

“He’s growing up so fast, isn’t he?” my mum, Kate, smiled, over my shoulder. I leaned in closer and gave him a big kiss, just in time to catch his tiny, toothy grin.

Taylor had always been such a happy, cheeky little boy. It certainly was a surprise to find out at the age 22 that I was pregnant with him. Everything went swimmingly until he was due. Suddenly he stopped moving so doctors needed to induce me.

Luckily, everything was fine, it was just Taylor keeping me on my toes.

The next evening, I woke-up to the sounds of him stirring from down the hall. Bleary-eyed, I wondered to his bedroom to find out what was wrong. “Mummy’s here,” I cooed, leaning his cot to pick him.

Giving him a cuddle, I instantly noticed that something wasn’t right. He had a raging temperature and his skin was burning to the touch. Suddenly, Taylor vomited all over himself, and the shock sent him squealing again.

Skin was burning

“On no, it’s OK, you’re OK ,” I soothed, slightly panicking as I remembered I lost the thermometer.

Trying to stay calm, I nipped next door to borrow one from our neighbour, and called 111 as soon as I realised his temperature was off the charts.

“Don’t worry Miss Lewsley, we’ll send an ambulance to be safe,” said the operator in a calming tone.

I nervously sat next to Taylor’s hospital bed in A&E as doctors gave him the once over.

“Is he OK, what happened?” my mum said, pulling back the hospital curtain. “He’s seems fine,” I said, still not quite convinced he was. “Just gave us a bit of a shock, didn’t you?” the nurse smiled towards Taylor.

He’d already perked-up, flashing a cheeky grin back at her. The doctor ran a few tests and decided it was safe for us to take him home, so we headed back to my mum’s for the evening.

“I’m still worried mum,” I said. “It feels like he’s looking through me, not at me, like he’s not himself.”

“Come here,” gestured mum, taking Taylor from my clutches. “How about I watch Taylor and you get some food in yourself?”

Watching mum bounce Taylor on her knee, I took a bite of my sandwich, and deep down, I knew something didn’t feel right. Suddenly, Taylor was sick, but this time he didn’t cry, he just fell silent.

Blue lines spread across his face

“Is he OK?” I said, jumping up from my dinner plate. I looked on in horror as thin blue lines spread across his cheeks – he looked like a slice of Stilton cheese. “Quick! Call an ambulance,” mum screamed.

As Taylor was rushed to intensive care, my head was spinning, it all happened so fast. Mum and I were taken to the visitor’s room, where a doctor entered with a solemn look on his face. “Taylor’s got meningitis W, which is a particularly aggressive strain,” he explained. “We’ve had to put him in a coma to give him a fighting chance.”

“What?” I managed to whimper, before mum and I both burst into floods of tears. It felt as though my mum role had been ripped from me, all I could do was wait, and hope my little boy pulled through. The next few hours were crucial. We prepared for the worst, inviting all of our friends and family around to the ward to say their goodbyes – we even got Taylor christened.

Despite the warning, my little boy kept on fighting, and he spent the next 17 days in a coma. “I’m sorry but the sepsis Taylor has contracted means we’ll need to amputate his right leg,” explained the doctor. I cradled his face in my hands, gave him a kiss, and he was carted off to surgery.

Meningitis W

“He’s alive, and that’s the main thing,” I said to mum. He was put back into a coma for another week, and the following week, he needed all fingers and thumbs, as well as his remaining toes, removed.

Some days felt like we were taking one-step forward and two steps back. “You’re still my little superhero,” I said, reading him his favourite book while sat on the ward. Finally, in November 2015, seven months after he was first admitted, Taylor was released from hospital.

“Welcome home,” I gleamed, clutching him in my arms as we walked through the front door. Over the next year, we started to get back on track. I left my job as an inventory clerk to take care of Taylor full-time.

He was given a prosthetic leg and a splint to support his remaining one. He had learnt to stand, climb stairs, he’d even managed to ride a four-wheel bike. Taylor also had reconstructive surgery on his hands and doctors managed to use his knuckles to fashion a finger and thumb pincer.

“Is he getting used to picking things up?” mum asked, sipping her cup of tea. “Yeah, he’s doing well,” I said. “I’m a little concerned about his right leg though, it doesn’t look like it’s growing.” Mum’s face mirrored mine with concern.

Mummy, where’s my leg gone

We took Taylor into hospital for a check-up in January 2017. “It appears the sepsis has damaged the growth plates in his knee,” the doctor explained, pointing at the Taylor’s X-Ray. Over the next few months, Taylor continued to struggle on his leg, I could see my little boy was in pain. Doctor’s made the decision to amputate his other leg in September.

After the operation, I sat by his side, and clutched his little hand in mine. His eye began to squint and then finally opened.

“Mummy,” he groaned. “It’s OK sweetie, I’m here,” I said.

“Mummy, where’s my leg gone?” he cried.

I wished so badly in that moment, that I could swap places with him. “I love you, it’ll be OK,” I said, trying to hold back the tears.

The nurse came in and helped me change his nappy, I couldn’t bring myself to look at his leg. When he lost his first leg, he was too young to understand what was happening. But this time, he knew what was going on, and it made it so much harder.

A week later, Taylor was back to our home Derbyshire and it didn’t take long for my little superhero to bounce back. He was still struggling to use his legs. “They’re rubbish,” he yelled in defiance, climbing the stairs on his stumps.

Struggling to use his legs

That Christmas, Taylor had both of his legs cast for a new set of prosthetics. “Guess what?” I smiled at him, handing him a big box wrapped in colourful paper. “The man making your legs has made them extra special.”

He tore into the package to reveal a pair of bright red prosthetic legs, emblazoned with his favourite superhero. “Spiderman!” he squealed as his face lit up.

It was still tricky to get him practicing in them. Toddlers do love a tantrum. “I can’t do it,” he’d say repeatedly. But Tuesdays and Thursdays were ‘prosthetic days’ for Taylor at nursery.

I was out shopping with mum when I felt a buzz from my pocket. It was Taylor’s teacher Ruth, she’d sent me a video of Taylor trying out his new legs. “You can do it, well done, you’re doing it!” she said, calling him over with arms open.

I held my breath as Taylor released his fingers from the cupboard and started walking unaided. A smile beamed across my face and I burst into tears.

“Why are you crying in the middle of the shop?” mum exclaimed. “Come look, he’s amazing!” I cried, holding the phone towards her proudly. Ruth said he’d be watching the other children walking and wanted to join in.

Now Taylor’s a happy, lively three-year-old boy, who has dreams of joining a wheelchair rugby team. Although we’re still taking it each day at a time, I’m so proud of him. He’s growing stronger and faster each day, just like the superhero he is.

Tell my child’s story now

We deal with all kinds of stories, every single day, so you can be assured you’re in safe hands. So if you’ve got a story to share, please get in touch with us today.

You can write into us using our Story Valuation Form or you can call us on 0117 906 6505.

Waking up on the operating table | How to tell your story

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Experienced something shocking or unbelievable? Find out how to tell your story to the World

If you have an unbelievable story you’d like to share with the media, get in touch today. We’ll show you how to tell your story. SellUsYourStory.com provides a free service to secure you the maximum fee possible. You can help others who have been through a similar ordeal and raise awareness of the subject.

As the largest independent press agency in the UK, our writers help thousands of people share their stories with the national press.

How to tell your story

This week we helped Fenn Settle to share his terrifying tale after he woke up in the middle of an operation. Fenn was in for a routine operation to remove his appendix, but after being put to sleep prior to surgery, he found himself awake on the operating table.

He first spoke to one of our news reporters who helped him share his story with the Sun newspaper.

After that, we arranged to him to appear on TV programme This Morning, where he chatted to Holly Willoughby and Phillip Schofield about the ordeal. We also arranged for him to be interviewed on BBC Radio 5 Live on the Emma Barnett show.

Read Fenn’s story about waking up on the operating table

Fenn, 25, regained consciousness during surgery to treat a ruptured appendix after the general anaesthetic wore off. He remembers a sharp stabbing pain in his abdomen and feeling like he was “choking to death on a bottle cap” which turned out to be a tube inserted down his throat.

Despite being awake, Fenn says he felt paralysed and unable to communicate so operating staff had no idea that he could feel what was happening to him. He tried blinking, wiggling his fingers and toes and, in a last-ditch attempt to get the attention of medics, he made a “conscious decision” to urinate on the operating table before he was then put back under.

Fenn says he felt “locked in his own body” and described the experience as his “worst nightmare” come true. The account manager said he next woke up in post-op following the laparascopic appendectomy and, despite his memory of the procedure, was told it was “all a dream”.

Nurse noted down Fenn’s weight incorrectly

Fenn says a healthcare agency nurse had incorrectly noted down his weight at three stone lighter because of a “language barrier”. This happened just hours before the surgery. He was sent letters from The Trust which say the level of anesthetic in his body was lower than it should have been.

He said: “I went down for surgery and everything was fine. I was put under but came round and felt like I had a bottle cap in my throat.

“I tried to spit it out but couldn’t and felt like I was choking to death. Everything goes through your mind like, ‘are you going to see your family again’?

“I thought I was going to die and tried to hold my breath so I would pass out quicker. Subsequently I realised I could hear voices, the beep of the machines and a stabbing pressure on my abdomen.

Fenn made the decision to urinate himself to try and get some attention

“I was able to figure out what was going on and that I was still in the operation. I couldn’t move, I was paralysed. Desperately I tried to open my eyes, scream, wiggle my fingers and toes. I was willing any part of me to do something. I made the conscious decision to urinate, it was the only thing I could do.

“It was that sort of feeling when you have three beers. I thought this will get their attention. I definitely could have held it in. In the post-op ward I said to the nurses ‘I remembered that’ but they said it was just a dream.

“The next morning I was seen by a doctor who said, ‘I’m aware you had some awareness of the operation’ but said whatever you do don’t google it because I would scare myself. Obviously, I immediately looked up what anaesthesia awareness was and found it may be down to medical negligence.”

Recurring nightmare of waking up on the operating table

The trust has since apologised and given Fenn thousands of pounds in compensation in an out of court settlement. Fenn returned to work a week after the op but has since suffered from post-traumatic stress and flashbacks. He continued to have trouble sleeping because of a recurring nightmare that he was choking. This occurred for more than a year after the surgery.

“There was one night when my other half arrived home and I was just sobbing and didn’t know who I was,” he added. “The hospital was denying it and I knew that it had happened, I thought I was going mental.”

Fenn had been booked in for what should have been a routine, overnight operation to have his appendix removed. He needed the procedure after waking up in the early hours of March 2, 2016. He had shooting pain in his abdomen. Describing the moment he woke up with pains, Fenn said: “I woke up in the early hours with agonising stomach pains.

“I called an ambulance but it was snowing and the call handler said they would send someone as soon as they could, but basically I wasn’t a priority.

“An ambulance still hadn’t arrived four hours later. My granddad then drove me to Calderdale Royal Hospital A&E department.

Appendix was about to burst

“I was told my appendix was about to burst and I was transferred to Huddersfield Royal Infirmary for the operation which was scheduled later that same day at 11pm.”

Fenn asked the NHS to investigate what had happened during the op and says staff incorrectly inputted his weight three stone lighter. The shocking alleged mix-up came following what he claims was a miscommunication by staff because of a language barrier.

“There I was seen by a healthcare nurse who spoke very little English,” he added. “She didn’t measure my weight or height and guessed a ballpark figure. I weighed 18 stone at the time and she put down that I was three stone lighter.

“According to the doctor himself, that wouldn’t have made a huge difference but it would have made some difference. It was enough to wake me up. They also said the tube became disconnected so I wasn’t getting the anaesthetic. I only ended up with a portion that I was meant to have.”

How to tell your story

Are you looking for information about how to tell your story?

Look no further! If you’ve got a story to tell, fill out the form on this page and one of our friendly team members will get back to you. We will let you know if your story is suitable for the national publications and TV shows we supply. We’ll also let you know how much your story is worth.

Find out more on our Sell My Story page. If you would like to learn more about how to appear on This Morning, see our How to Get on This Morning page.

How to use the Media to Raise Awareness

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FIND OUT HOW TO USE THE MEDIA TO RAISE AWARENESS

Do you want to use the media to raise awareness of an issue or cause? We provide a free and no obligation service to help you raise money and awareness with your story, video or photograph.

SellUsYourStory.com has unrivalled contacts in the newspaper, magazine and TV industry and we make sure your story has the biggest reach.

We take the hassle out of raising awareness by dealing with the press on your behalf.

An appointed and trained reporter will be your point of contact – and they will deal with everything for you.

HOW YOU CAN USE THE MEDIA TO RAISE AWARENESS

We’re here to make sure you’re not misrepresented and YOUR story is told your way.

First of all, simply fill in the form on this page with some information about your story, photo or video clip.

Afterwards, we’ll get back to you and one of our reporters will talk you through the next steps.

RECENT CLIENT WHO USED THE MEDIA TO RAISE AWARENESS

Laura Harris is an oncology nurse who looks after cancer patients every day at work – but in a tragic twist of fate she was diagnosed with her own terminal bowel cancer in January last year.

She was given three months to live but she is continuing to fight the disease so she have extra time making special memories with her two children and step-son.

But despite working for the NHS for 12 years, Laura was told the drug that could help her live longer was not available as it was too expensive to fund.

Her sister-in-law created a Go Fund Me page to try and raise £40k and for several weeks donations slowly trickled in.

Laura’s story came to the attention of news editor Tom Bevan, via our extensive local contacts.

He contacted her on Facebook and she said she would be delighted to speak to us to help generate national publicity for her cause.

Trained reporter Tom worked with Laura to write her story in a sensitive way. He made sure it reached all the best media contacts.

USE THE MEDIA TO RAISE AWARENESS

WHERE CAN WE GET YOUR STORY PRINTED

SellUsYourStory.com is part of SWNS, the UK’s largest independent press agency. We supply up to 20 per cent of all UK print news. In just a few hours after her story had appeared online on the Sun, Mirror, Daily Mail, Metro and Express.

Almost instantly her target of £40k was reached – with more than £30k donated in less than 24 hours.

Furthermore, the next day her story appeared in print in the Times, Mirror, Mail, Sun and Metro.

WHAT DO PEOPLE SAY ABOUT OUR SERVICE

Afterwards we spoke to Laura again who said she was humbled by the support and generosity of the public.

But she also acknowledged that nothing would have been possible without SWNS getting her story out to such a wide audience.

She told us: “The power of the press is unbelievable. As soon as the story was out there it just started going crazy. These people don’t know me and will never know me so I am blown away they have been so supportive.

“Thank you so much SWNS. I am so grateful to you for publicising my story and getting us to our target. Ultimately we couldn’t have done it without you.”

USE THE MEDIA TO RAISE AWARENESS OF YOUR STORY

Contact us today. Simply fill out the story form on this page.

For more information about how to sell a story, see our sell my story page.

You can read more about how to sell a video or how to sell a photo, or how much your story could sell for here.

Remember, our service won’t cost you a penny and there is no obligation. Therefore, what have you got to lose? Contact us now. We will consider any story and we want to hear from you.

Why Can’t I Be Like My Twin Brother? | Sell a twins story

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Sell a twins story, a triplets story, a quads story… or any other multiples!

Sell a twins story: Do you have twins, triplets or other multiples with an amazing story? We want to hear from you.

SellUsYourStory.com is here to help you earn money from sharing your story with magazines and newspapers. Help those in a similar situation and make money for yourself or a charity.

Our service is free. Fill out the form on this page to get a story valuation. There is no obligation.

This week we published twins, Ava and Austin’s story. Born very premature, little Ava and her twin brother, Austin, had a tricky start to life. But Ava’s was trickier than most after the tot spent the first three months of her life in intensive care.

Why can’t I be like my brother?

When my husband Luke, 33 and I found out we were expecting, we were simply over the moon.

We’d been married in a fairy-tale ceremony just months before and calculated that we must have conceived very early on in our two week Cancun honeymoon.

Thinking I had a severe case of jetlag, it took me a few days to realise that it might be something else.

As I work in a maternity unit, when I got back, I mentioned it to a colleague and she suggested I might be pregnant.

We took some blood tests but they came back negative – I was a little disappointed but thought that we’d just have to fun while we kept trying!

Amazingly, a few days later I was feeling quite nauseous and so I picked up a few pregnancy tests from my local chemist – to my delight, they all came back positive.

Luke and I were so happy and couldn’t wait to start our little family together.

Bleeding with twins

At just six weeks pregnant, it was a busy Christmas Eve (2014) I started to bleed as I was on my way home from work.

Turning on my heel I went straight back to the hospital for an emergency scan.

Thankfully it turned out that it was just a small bleed and that everything was fine… in fact it was more than fine – Luke arrived by my side just in time for the doctor to tell us that we were in fact, expecting twins.

I cried with happiness, burying my face in Luke’s shoulder as I took it all in.

It was the best Christmas present we could have ever hoped for.

The rest of the festive season passed by in a happy blurr.

As the pregnancy progressed, I had awful morning sickness but everything else was perfectly normal, and the girls at work were always keeping a close eye on me and imparting their words of wisdom.

Born at 27 weeks

The weeks passed and as my bump grew, I couldn’t wait to meet my babies.

I was just 27 weeks when I woke one night, hopping out of bed to fetch a glass of water, I was confused to feel a trickling sensation between my legs.

It was 3am but I knew my colleagues would be on shift at work, I called up with trembling hands, knowing enough know that something wasn’t right.

I was told to get myself into the ward ‘immediately.’

Arriving in a panic, Luke and I were told that my waters had broken and that I was in labour.

‘How can I be?’ I thought, ‘I’m only 27 weeks.’

I looked over at Luke and apologised.

‘Babies born this young don’t make it,’ I told him simply. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He told me not to be silly and squeezed my hand tight.

But before we even had time to discuss anything, we were told that I was 5cm dilated and would need an emergency caesarean.

I called one of my best friends, and colleagues Holly, 27, and asked her to come and be my midwife.

I needed people I trusted around me.  It was all so fast. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

Tiny babies

Less than an hour later, my two tiny babies were born by caesarean.

Holly vowed never to deliver for a friend again, she said it was just too emotional, and I can’t blame her.

Tears were pouring down our cheeks, as our precious bundles were rushed off to a neonatal intensive care ward.

We decided to call our twins Ava and Austin.

We then found out that Ava means life, and no matter how tenuous, it gave us a glimmer of hope.

Austin was very sick but he was relatively stable, whereas Ava was born not breathing and the medical team had to keep battling to get her to take in air.

I wasn’t allowed to see either of the babies initially as they were so unwell coupled with the fact that I had gone into a state of shock.

Failing to take in what had just happened, the twins should have still been safe in my tummy. But they were out in the world fighting for their lives.

I felt totally helpless, especially as we weren’t able to see them for a long time, but finally, 11 hours after they were born, I went into take a peek at them.

The premature baby ward was surreal with it’s spaceship blue lighting but our babies looked adorable even though they were so tiny.

Unable to touch or hold our babies

It was hell not being able to touch or hold them, we could only stare through the glass of their incubators.

I was desperate to comfort them and know what they smelt like.

But each day they grew gradually stronger, it was amazing to see them looking up at us for the first time.

There were some tricky moments but both of them are fighters and never gave up.

Thirteen long weeks later and we got to bring our babies home, they were still very small but had both made so much progress.

They continued to develop well and although a little late for some mile stones, they were healthy and happy.

While Ava was cheeky and outgoing where as her brother was sensitive and a bit shyer.

While Austin was addicted to his bunny comfort blanket, Ava was dummy obsessed!

Luke and I quickly adjusted to the whirlwind and chaos of life as a family of four.

But in summer 2016, Ava began to refuse food and water and seemed increasingly lethargic.

Mother’s instinct took over and I rushed her straight to our local hospital. She kept collapsing and couldn’t even hold her own head up.

Staff there had no idea what was wrong with Ava and I felt like we were losing precious time.

Staff had no idea what was wrong with Ava

Becoming hysterical, as I could see she was fading fast, I screamed at doctors to transfer her to a bigger hospital.

Thankfully we were rushed Addenbrooks Hospital, Cambridgeshire, where, with more sophisticated equipment they quickly realised Ava had a problem with her heart.

Ava was finally diagnosed with Dilated Cardiomyopathy, a rare but serious condition which affects the hearts ability to pump blood.

Unable to deal with the severity of her condition we were transferred once again, this time to Royal Brompton in Chelsea, London, which specialises is heart conditions.

She was rushed to intensive care and put on life support.

Wired up to 19 different machines

At one point I counted 19 machines she was wired up to. They were all working on her and keeping her alive.

Luckily my mum and dad, Alison, 58, and Paul, 61, had Austin and Luke’s family had rented us a flat (at an incredible cost) nearby the hospital so that we could be with Ava full time.

On day three at the Brompton, Ava’s heart function dipped as low as 5 per cent and she had a cardiac arrest.

It was one of the worst moments of my life and I felt like I was going to lose my precious girl at any second.

The doctors there sat us down and told us that Ava was unable to sustain life. Her only chance was to be put on to a ECMO machine.

The ECMO provides a heart and lung bypass, which lets the organs rest. It is used only in the rarest circumstances as it has lots of risks.

I felt like I was holding my breath as she took her first breaths all on her own

A few days later Ava was doing well and our hopes began to rise again.

Because of the effect the ECMO has on the body, medics recommend it isn’t used for more than a week… Ava had been on it for nine days so we had to take her off.

It was an unbelievably stressful time. Made worse by the fact that she had a 1/3 chance of dying after the ECMO was removed.

I felt like I was holding my breath as she took her first breaths all on her own.

Ava needed 11 blood transfusions but to our total delight she coped really well. Her incredible doctors and nurses hailed her a ‘miracle’.

But this joy was short lived, as we then found out that she had indeed had a stroke whilst on ECMO, which is one of the common side effects.

The stroke affected her left hand side and had also given her a mild form of cerebral palsy.

But, even with the stroke, she was growing stronger and stronger by the day.

Our brave little Ava eventually came home in November 2016.

Luke and I did lots of exercises with her and did research online to make sure we had everything she needs in order to get better as fast as she could.

She’s exceeded all expectations as by March 2017, she was walking again!

Ava’s doctor’s still can’t believe how well she’s done and continues to do.

Her and Austin are just like any normal brother and sister now: they play and bicker away in their toddler babble.

Of course Ava needs lots of tests still and we have to keep a close eye on her but our family is whole and that’s what counts.

Sell a twins story or other multiples

If you want to sell a twins story or other multiple birth stories, get in touch today. We’ll help you get your story published for the highest price possible.

Perhaps you have a different story? We’re not just seeking people wishing to sell a twins story. Maybe you have an amazing surrogacy story, a health related story, something bonkers happened to you, or anything else?

Simply fill out the story valuation form on this page.  For more info about how to sell a twins story, or any other story, see the Sell My Story page.

Unexplained weight gain | Share your story

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Did you experience unexplained weight gain? Did it turn out to be something sinister? Share your story with a magazine, and we’ll pay you for it!

When Leah mysteriously experienced unexplained weight gain, despite dieting she was horrified to discover a life-threatening 26lb cyst the size of a WATERMELON inside her.

If like Leah you’ve had a medical nightmare, or any other story you’d like to share, get in touch today.  We’ll help you tell your story, and get paid the maximum fee possible.  SellUsYourStory.com is part of the largest press agency in the country – we supply stories to major newspapers and magazines, so we guarantee the highest payments.

Help others in a similar situation. Raise awareness for a cause or a charity.

Simply tell us the main points of your story using our Story Valuation form.  One of our friendly team will get back to you.  We won’t use anything you send us without your permission and there is no obligation. Our service won’t cost you a penny.

My unexplained weight gain was a cyst

Before I started university I wasn’t exactly what you’d call slim, but by the end of my first year the combination of homesickness and uni stress had seen me lose an incredible four stone.

That isn’t to say I was tiny, I still weighed a healthy 14 stone, but compared to the 18 stone I was pushing pre-uni, the difference was obvious.

It wasn’t exactly a healthy diet, anxiety and stress, but even I couldn’t help feeling happy with getting down to a size 14.
But when I returned for my second year of studies, the weight soon started to pile back on.

My relationship with Richard was going from strength to strength, and the more time we spent together the more we ate.

‘Honestly, it’s not fair.’ I complained over dinner with Richard. ‘You can eat five big macs and it doesn’t touch the sides. Me, I just look at one and gain 12 lbs.’

Pounds started to creep on

Used to being a bigger girl, when the pounds started to slowly creep up on me I just embraced my curvier figure.

Like most of my friends I turned to food when the stress built up, and as the coursework mounted I was snacking more than ever.

But by the time I’d started to realise just how heavy I’d let myself get I knew something had to change.

‘How could you let this happen?’ I asked myself in the mirror, pinching and pulling at the tyre of blubber around my midriff.

Still, there was hope. Richard is a bit of a gym bunny, and I made the brave decision to start joining him.

Unexplained weight gain

After months and months of being more careful with food and the gym, I was shocked to find my weight had barely changed at all.

If anything, with every weighing I’d notice an extra pound or two!

Worried that there might be a deeper problem than my love of food, I booked a doctor’s appointment to see what was going on.
‘I think what we really need to be looking at here is your diet, Leah.’ The doctor told me after taking note of my stats and lifestyle.

‘I… Well… I have been trying!’ I quickly responded, feeling my face flush.

Maybe I’d been kidding myself, I hadn’t exactly had a diet overhaul… I had been cutting back though!

Determined to get back down to a weight I was more comfortable with, I completely cut down on my portion sizes.

It surprised me how easy it was lower my calorie intake with just a few small changes.

Two roast potatoes instead of six, swapping sugar for sweetener and saying no to pop all together. Before long it was June and I was ready to jet off to Greece with Richard. But to my dismay my new regime hadn’t been paying off.

‘I can’t believe it!’ I cried from behind the changing room curtains. ‘It doesn’t even fit properly.’

I’d gone to buy some last minute essentials and could barely fit into a size 20 dress – what was going on?

Doctor told me to try Slimming World

‘Don’t let it ruin your holiday, honey.’ My mum tried to reassure me. ‘You’ve got a fella who loves you, and you deserve a chillax after all your hard work.’

I knew she was right but I struggled to shake off the disappointment.

The week before my holiday I managed to see my doctor again, but he still refused to believe it was anything serious.
‘Have you thought about joining at weight loss group, Slimming World perhaps?’ He suggested.

I couldn’t believe I was being told to join Slimming World by my doctor, and put the thought to the back of my head. Despite being the heaviest I’d ever been, I still managed to make the most of my holiday, and felt well and truly rested. I decided to give myself a few weeks before the daunting task of signing up with my local Slimming World group, but in the end I never got round to it.

‘Aargh, my stomach. Something not right!’ I called out in the middle of the night.

‘What? What is it?’ Richard asked, shooting out of bed.

‘I don’t know, I don’t know!’ I screamed, writhing in pain.

Misdiagnosis for unexplained weight gain

I was rushed to Sheffield General Hospital and after a four-and-a-half hour weight, and numerous blood and urine tests, I was told I was on the backend of a urinary tract infection.

‘A UTI?’ I asked, the painkillers finally kicking in. ‘It can’t be.’

By 10.30am all the tests had come back clear and I was being sent on my way.
But come the afternoon I was in utter agony again, and not knowing what to do, Richard called my mum in a panic.

‘Listen, take her to Chesterfield Royal Hospital.’ She told him down the phone. ‘They’ll know what to do.’

Chesterfield Hospital is my mum’s local hospital, and despite being further away she was adamant I’d be in safe hands there.

We arrived at just gone 6pm, and by 8pm I’d had three sets of blood, two urine tests, my own bed and an ultrasound on the way.

‘We’re ready for your ultrasound now, Leah.’ The medic told me, reassuringly.

They wheeled my through and as the sonographer began tracing my belly with the ultrasound I could tell by her face something wasn’t right.

Something was seriously wrong

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked her nervously.

‘Well, it’s just… I can’t see your bladder, something’s blocking the view.’ She began to tell me. ‘We’re going to need to do an internal ultrasound, I’m afraid.’

The medic slipped a tiny probe up inside of me and identified a cyst that was blocking my entire bladder.

‘There’s a cyst the size of watermelon growing on your ovary, Leah.’ The doctor finally confirmed. I was horrified, and immediately began treatment to drain the cyst. It wasn’t pleasant to say the least.

The nurse attached me to a giant suction device that slowly drained the liquid from the growth. Over 16 hours – and 13 litres of fluid – later, I was finally unhooked from the machine. Despite the trauma of it all, I’d lost two stone and dropped from a size 20 to a size 16 in less than a day. But I didn’t come out unscathed.

‘You have two options here, Leah.’ The doctor told me.’ We can leave the remains of the cyst, or perform an operation to get rid of it completely.’

Unexplained weight gain caused by a cyst

Because of the cysts proximity to my ovary, it meant I could significantly lower my chances of conceiving. ‘I’m not doing it.’ I told Mum and Richard anxiously. ‘It’s not worth not having kids for.’

‘Now Leah, just think about this for a second….’ Mum began telling me. But it was Richard who convinced me.


‘Leah, there’s more than one way to start a family.’ He said, taking my hand. ‘And what’s the point of having a family if your health is compromised?’ I knew he was right and agreed to the surgery.

Unfortunately, the doctor’s concerns were right, and I ended up losing an ovary. I now have 50% of the chance of falling pregnant but Richard and I remain hopeful.

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