I Thought I Just Had a UTI After Giving Birth, but the Truth Was Terrifying - Newsweek

In July 2024, I was newly single and about to become a mom, so, of course, I thought that would be the greatest challenge I would face.

How wrong I was. No one could have guessed what the next few months held.

In the months after welcoming my son, I started to notice some changes that were out of the ordinary for me. It started off with little habit changes, such as frequent urination and mild back pain. But having just given birth, it’s easy to see why those signs did not signal anything significant.

As moms, we are often reminded that our postpartum bodies go through so much, so we try not to overthink it. The problem with that, though, is that it encourages women to turn a blind eye—even when, deep down, we feel concerned.

While going to the bathroom more regularly was not too alarming at the time, I could not ignore the mounting list of additional symptoms over the following months.

Within six months, I had a fever on two separate occasions, I felt bloated, did not get my period, and got terrible night sweats. I put most of that down to the fact that I had just had a baby and also have endometriosis. I was also breastfeeding, so it was just presumed that my body was changing.

Yet in February 2025, the situation took a drastic turn.

I had a mild burning sensation when I went to the bathroom, and that night, I ran a fever. So, the next morning, I went to the pharmacy to get medication for a UTI, thinking that was all it was.

However, before the pharmacist could give me anything, there were a few questions to go through first.

“Have you recently experienced any fevers?

Well, as a matter of fact, yes. Just the night before.

As a result of that, they could not give me the over-the-counter UTI medication. That was the only reason I went to the doctor instead. I didn’t even realize what the fever could mean.

I booked in with the first doctor I could that day, and I think fate had my back because I ended up with one who, I believe, played a big role in saving me from an even worse outcome. I told him that I had some burning when urinating and that I had a fever the night before, so he had me do a urine test and sent me for a CT scan.

I thought it was going to be fine, but I would be lying if I said there wasn’t a little internal voice telling me it was worse.

Everything changed after that urine test and the CT scan, as doctors were able to identify a five-centimeter mass on my ovary.

I was transferred to the emergency department of a local hospital where I was supposed to be seen by a gynecologist. As I sat in the waiting room for eight hours with my 7-month-old son beside me, I had no idea what to expect.

When I was finally seen by a nurse, she told me that gynecology looked at the results of my CT scan and diagnosed me with an ovarian abscess (without seeing me themselves). I was given intravenous antibiotics and told that if I felt better over the next two weeks, then the problem was resolved.

As it turned out, my UTI symptoms went away, so I thought the ordeal was behind me.

But by late September, I felt really lethargic and short of breath. That was when I felt it—a lump. I was lying down in bed, and there was clearly something in my abdomen.

I went back to the GP in early October, and I made sure it was the same one I had seen about the UTI. They listened to me and wanted to help, so I was sent for a transvaginal ultrasound. There was a visible mass on the ultrasound, so they had me do another CT, which also revealed pulmonary embolisms in my lungs.

That explained why I was so short of breath.

So began an endless cycle of appointments, scans and tests. By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, rather than being at home with my son, I found myself getting a biopsy taken at the hospital. One week later, on New Year’s Eve, I received the call that would change my life.

I can safely say I have never felt more scared going into a new year.

It was another week before I met with a gynecological surgeon and was told I have ovarian clear cell carcinoma. They could not tell me exactly what stage it was until I had surgery.

When I heard those words, my mind immediately went to my son. As a single mother, I felt overwhelming grief and fear about the prospect of leaving my toddler. My emotions were truly so deep and dark, I could not even speak.

Had this been my first experience with cancer, that would be devastating enough. Sadly, cancer has cast a shadow over my family for years. When I was 20, I became a carer for my mother, who passed away at 52 from bowel cancer. My grandfather died from stomach cancer at 53, and last year, my eldest brother was diagnosed with lung cancer at 40, and he died two weeks later. So, receiving my own cancer diagnosis felt like a death sentence.

I wish I could say mine was the last test my family would endure, but since then, my father has also been diagnosed with a form of blood cancer.

I had a total hysterectomy on January 27, 2026, and one week later, was told the cancer was 1A hormone-positive.

Usually, stage 1A cancer would not require treatment after successful surgery, but luckily, I got a rare subtype. The doctors were uncertain about my case because there is very little research on my specific type of cancer, but they knew it was aggressive. As a result, the decision was made to undergo four rounds of chemotherapy after my hysterectomy.

I made the decision to have the full hysterectomy before I knew what stage I was. I was told they could try to keep the other ovary if it was cancer-free, but I would be at higher risk. I was also offered egg retrieval; however, that would have delayed my surgery and could have caused the cancer to spread (due to being hormone-positive). At 33 with one baby, I can't explain how crushed I was to completely lose my chance to have more children. Yet, I had to keep reminding myself that I can't have more children if I’m dead.

Even a 1 percent risk of not being with my son was too high a price.

Treatment certainly took its toll, and my mind and body are definitely still in recovery mode. I will never be who I was before cancer, but I know better days are coming.

In fact, by September, I received the incredible news that I am officially cancer-free. I felt like hearing that sentence gave me back a future with my son. Now, it feels like I can breathe again without the soul-crushing anxiety of what lies ahead.

My message is to never dismiss changes in your body, even if the symptoms are easily explained. Early detection can change the outcome, and because there is no standardized testing for ovarian cancer, following up on subtle changes is so important. Symptoms can feel like a whisper, but it's your body's way of screaming at you to pay attention.

Ashlea Blackborough, 34, resides in Adelaide, Australia, with her son. She has been documenting her recovery from ovarian cancer on social media (@ash_frances on TikTok) as she hopes to raise awareness and urges others to always listen to their bodies.

Contact Newsweek editors on this story: Gray R. Thomas