Cervical cancer meant I needed a hysterectomy at 24. Now I’m grieving the children I’ll never carry
Sierra Boughton, 30, suffered from excruciating periods for years, but was never taken seriously by doctors. After a routine cervical screening at 24, Sierra was diagnosed with a rare, life-threatening form of cervical cancer. Sierra is a cleaner and lives with her boyfriend, Daniel, in Peterborough.
I’ve always wanted to be a mum. Ever since I was little, I dreamed of holding my own baby in my arms and building a family. But now, at 30, I’m watching my friends become parents while I’m left grieving the loss of something I’ve never had – and may never have.
For years I’d gone to doctors complaining of heavy, agonising periods so bad I would bleed through four pads an hour. I told them I was bleeding during and after sex, had constant pain in my lower back, hips, and stomach, and overwhelming fatigue. But each time, I was dismissed.
Doctors told me it was normal to have heavy periods and always recommended temporary fixes, like having a hot bath, exercising more and taking paracetamol. I felt so unseen and unheard. I knew in my heart something wasn’t right, but after being told it was normal so many times, I started to believe it.
I felt so unseen and unheard.
My diagnosis
Six months before my 25th birthday, I was invited for my first NHS smear test. I went in feeling nervous but also hopeful I might finally get some answers. When the nurse began the procedure, I could tell something was wrong just from her expression. She told me she could see a mass on my cervix and that I’d need to come back for further tests.
The next day, I had an emergency appointment for a biopsy. The doctor couldn’t confirm what it was but prepared me for the worst. "It doesn’t look good," he said.
Three days later, I was called back to the hospital to discuss the results.
As soon as I walked into the room, I knew something was wrong. The doctor sat me down and told me I had adenocarcinoma cervical cancer. I barely remember what happened after that. It was a lot to process, and while I was worried about myself, I was more anxious about telling my parents.
The doctor told me I had adenocarcinoma cervical cancer.
Emergency surgery
I immediately began the process of freezing my eggs - I was desperate to hold onto some hope of becoming a mum one day. But before I could complete the process, I received a call from the hospital. My condition had worsened and I needed to go into emergency surgery. The urgency of the situation meant I was no longer entitled to NHS-funded fertility treatments. If I wanted to freeze my eggs, I’d have to pay for it myself.
Initially, I was booked for a trachelectomy, a procedure to remove part of my cervix whilst still preserving my uterus. But during surgery, they discovered the cancer was worse than they had initially thought. The trachelectomy had to be stopped, and I was scheduled for a radical hysterectomy instead. This second surgery removed my uterus, cervix and surrounding tissues. And in order to prevent early menopause, my ovaries were moved and tucked under my rib cage, but they’ll need to be removed in the future.
I still remember waking up after surgery and feeling the weight of what I’d lost. Not only was I 24 and battling cancer, but I also had to confront the reality that I’d never be able to carry my own child. It was heartbreaking to grieve the loss of something I’d always wanted.
Not only was I 24 and battling cancer, but I also had to confront the reality that I’d never be able to carry my own child.
I still don’t think it’s fair that I’ve been stripped of access to NHS-funded fertility treatments because I needed emergency surgery. It feels like I’m being punished because my cancer was so advanced. But now, I’m racing against time. Eventually my ovaries will fail, and I’ll go into early menopause. The cost of fertility preservation is daunting, but I’m determined to do everything I can to make it happen.
Raising awareness
To help cover the costs and raise awareness about cervical cancer, I’ve turned to social media. Through my TikTok account, I’m sharing my story, educating women about the signs and symptoms of cervical cancer, and encouraging them to trust their bodies and advocate for themselves. If even one person catches cancer early because of my videos, it will all be worth it.
Social media has given me a platform to connect with others and spread a message of hope and resilience. I’m putting my faith in the internet, hoping it will help me raise enough funds to freeze my eggs and keep my dream of becoming a mum alive.
Struggling with grief
Even though my cancer is gone, I still have days when I’m overwhelmed with grief. I struggle with the pain of knowing I might never have children and the loneliness of feeling like my life is on a completely different path from my friends. Along with the physical scars from my operations, this is a daily reminder of what I’ve been through.
Looking back, I wish I’d pushed harder for answers when my symptoms first appeared. All the signs of cervical cancer were there and I tried so hard to get answers. I can’t help but wonder if things would be different if I was given a smear test earlier on or taken seriously by doctors as soon as I raised concern. I always wonder if I’d be a mum by now.
For years, I felt dismissed because of my age. I believe doctors didn’t take me seriously because I was so young.
For years, I felt dismissed because of my age. I believe doctors didn’t take me seriously because I was so young. But cancer doesn’t discriminate. It can affect anyone. If something doesn’t feel right, trust your instincts and don’t be afraid to push for answers.
While this journey has been incredibly challenging, it has also given me a sense of purpose. By sharing my story, I hope to inspire others to take their health seriously and advocate for better awareness of women’s health issues.
My dream of becoming a mum may be uncertain, but I’m not giving up. With the help of social media and the support of those who hear my story, I’m holding onto hope for the future. Cancer took a lot from me, but it also reminded me just how strong I am. My story isn’t over yet, and I’m determined to write the next chapter on my terms.
Read more about cervical cancer:
A third of women don't go to their cervical cancer screenings – here's how to make them more comfortable (The Independent, 3-min read)
Five cervical cancer warning signs you should never ignore (Yahoo Life UK, 4-min read)
Woman with cervical cancer urges mums to attend smear tests (Yahoo Life UK, 6-min read)
