Meredith's sister

43

Mia's POV

The next few days blurred together in a haze of appointments, tests, and painful discussions. I couldn't escape the reality that the cancer had spread beyond what any of us had anticipated. The lymph nodes, the surrounding tissues—everywhere they looked, it was there. They were calling it stage IV now. There was no sugarcoating it. This wasn't a battle with an uncertain outcome anymore. It was a countdown. But all I could do was hold on and try to find a way through the pain.

Teddy had been my constant. She stayed with me when I couldn't sleep, holding me in the quiet hours of the night, reassuring me with soft words and gentle touches. But I could see the worry in her eyes every time she looked at me. She was scared too, though she tried so hard not to show it. She kept telling me that we'd fight this together, that she wasn't going anywhere, but I couldn't shake the fear that maybe... maybe she was already preparing for the worst.

Meredith and Maggie had both been incredible. Meredith stayed on top of my medical care, making sure we were moving forward with treatments and keeping me as comfortable as possible. Maggie, though, was the one who stayed closest. She would come by after her shifts, quietly holding my hand, offering small comforts—soft blankets, snacks, sometimes just sitting with me in silence. Amelia, too, checked in frequently, her sharp mind always turning to find the best course of action, but she had a way of holding space for my fear without pushing me.

But no one—no one—knew how to make the pain of this feel real without feeling like it was too much.

The hardest part, though, was telling Allison. She was only four, so she didn't have the capacity to understand everything that was happening. But I could see it in her eyes when she looked at me. She could sense the shift in me, in Teddy, in the house. The energy was different, heavier somehow, and it scared her.

One afternoon, after another round of consultations with my oncologist, Teddy and I sat in the living room. Allison was napping in the other room, but I could hear the soft sound of her breathing through the baby monitor. We'd been discussing treatment plans—chemotherapy, radiation, immunotherapy—all the options, none of them easy, none of them guaranteed.

I turned to Teddy, my hands wringing the hem of my shirt. "I can't keep doing this to her, Teddy. I can't make her watch me wither away. I can't bear the thought of her growing up without me."

Teddy reached out, pulling me close, her arms tight around me. "You're not going anywhere," she whispered. "We're not going to let you go. We'll fight this. All of us."

"I don't want her to see me like this," I said, my voice breaking. "I don't want her to see me sick. What if she remembers this and it breaks her? What if she loses her mom before she even really gets to know me?"

"You're her mom, Mia," Teddy said, her voice soft but unwavering. "No matter what, she knows that. And she's going to remember you. She's going to remember all the good parts, not just the hard ones. And we're going to be here for her, every step of the way."

I nodded against her, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me, but the fear lingered. "I don't know how much longer I can keep it together."

Teddy kissed the top of my head. "You don't have to do it alone. You've got us, Mia. All of us."

That night, after the world had settled into a soft, quiet calm, I sat on the edge of Allison's bed, watching her sleep. Her tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath. I couldn't imagine a world where I wasn't there to protect her, to help her through life, to guide her. But the reality of my situation hit me harder every day. I didn't know how many more days I had, how many more moments like this I would get to experience.

Tears slid down my face as I reached out to touch her cheek, brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen over her forehead. She stirred but didn't wake, and for a moment, I allowed myself to feel the full weight of what was happening.

"I love you so much, baby," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "I promise you, I'll fight for you."

I stayed there for hours, just watching her, as if somehow the simple act of sitting by her side would grant me the strength I needed to face whatever came next.

The following day, I sat down with Meredith, Maggie, and Teddy. We'd all gathered in my living room, the sunlight pouring through the windows, casting a warm glow over the space. The tension in the air was palpable as we discussed next steps—chemotherapy, radiation, and the long road ahead.

"I don't know if I can do this," I said, my voice trembling. "I don't know if I can go through all the treatments. The pain, the exhaustion... I just want it to be over."

Teddy was quick to speak up, her hand finding mine. "Mia, we don't know what the future holds, but we're not giving up on you. We're going to fight this together. No matter what."

Meredith added, "The treatments are tough. But you're tougher. We all are."

Maggie nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of worry and determination. "We'll be here, Mia. Every single day, every step of the way."

I looked at them—my sisters, my family—and for the first time in days, I felt a small spark of hope. I didn't know what tomorrow would bring. I didn't know how much time I had left. But I knew one thing for certain: I wasn't going to fight this alone.

We were in this together. And that gave me the strength to face whatever came next.

For Allison. For Teddy. For my family. I wasn't giving up. Not yet.