Imagine if your healthy child, in as little as 12 months, became one that was forced to endure numerous surgeries and daily medical procedures. Believe me; I never would have imagined that I would have a child that could develop cancer. Never would I have imagined losing my child after her first birthday. But it happened.

On March 21, 2002 I brought my healthy, newborn baby girl, Jessica home from Guelph General Hospital. Exactly one year later, on March 21, 2003, I returned home from The Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto without my one year old because she had died from a cancerous brain tumour.

Jessica Marie Claire Durigon was born on March 19, 2002. She developed like any other healthy child would for the first 4 ½ months of her life. She grew and changed on a daily basis, rewarding us with all her “firsts.”

Suddenly, in the matter of only a week or two, I knew there was something terribly wrong. Jessica wasn’t herself. On August 22nd, Jessica was diagnosed with having an ependymoma brain tumour. Most of these cancerous tumours occur in children below the age of three with a survival rate of only 50 per cent. Jessica withstood an original seven-hour surgery and then many “routine” surgeries for shunts and feeding tubes. She suffered through hospital infections and daily unpleasant procedures.

It is difficult to describe what it was like to see my baby come from surgery swollen, with tubes in her mouth and nose to help her breath, with an I.V. and with monitors attached to every conceivable place on her little body. It was horrible to try and soothe her when she would look up at me with wide, scared eyes as she was poked and prodded for yet another procedure. And yet, Jessica was this amazing human being who was so much braver than I felt. She regularly smiled and won the hearts of all those that met her. Even the parents of other children at the hospital fell in love with her.

After ten long weeks of hospitalization, Jessica came home. My husband and I administered chemotherapy to her on a daily basis. We hired nurses for night care and opened our home to numerous care professionals. Our house was a very busy place. Friends and family helped with meals, cleaning and errands. They helped out with my oldest daughter Alyssa. They sent flowers, said prayers and I received many phone calls. We were surrounded by love and hope for our Jessie.

We lived week by week, scan by scan, and rejoiced over the tiniest improvements. We had good and bad days, but Jessica so often had an encouraging smile. She even resumed her developmental milestones and everyone cheered her on. After clear scans and seeing some real changes in Jessica’s overall well being, we saw hope in the future.

Then, on March 17th, doctors told us the tumour had returned and that Jessica would never survive another surgery…that she would never again be coming home with us. The news was like being hit by a truck. I never believed I would lose her. Just like I never would have believed that a child of mine could have cancer. Jessica was connected to a morphine pain pump.

On March 19th, Jessica celebrated her first birthday. She seemed to rally that one last time. She played and giggled with her sister. That would be the last time she would be conscious. She slipped into a coma and then died in her daddy’s arms two days later on March 21, 2003.

On many occasions people that knew her would tell me that Jessica was an old soul. I agree. She endured so much and yet was still such a loving and joyful little person. She had a beautiful smile that lit up her eyes and she was a fighter - right to the bitter end. My family has walked down a road that I hope no other family will experience. But right now, there are others. There will be others.

Give right now to help fund research and check out how you can become involved in A Walk in the Park a fundraiser in memory of Jessica.

Thank you for reading Jessie's story.

Wendy Durigon, Jessica’s Mom