In 2021, life was full — the good kind of full — for Stacey and Andy. Between work and raising two children, their days were busy but happy. Their son, Asher, was two and a half, full of energy and determination, and baby Harper had just joined the family.
“We had a really beautiful home in Toowoomba,” Stacey recalls. “We were homebodies. Life was good. Asher loved his trucks, loved being a big brother. He was so determined — and that determination would become so important later.”
They had no way of knowing how much that strength would soon be tested.
The First Signs
At first, the changes were small. Asher started eating less and seemed tired more often. He became constipated and stopped climbing onto the couch and bed — things he’d done effortlessly before.
Then one night, he woke screaming in pain, clutching his back. Stacey rushed him to the hospital, but doctors couldn’t find anything wrong and sent them home.
Days later, his skin grew pale. Stacey took him to their GP, who ordered blood tests. “She rang me as soon as she got the results,” Stacey says softly. “She told me to go to a paediatrician straight away.”
Two days later, the paediatrician examined Asher and sent them for an X-ray. “That was the start of it,” Stacey says. “The doctor came into the room, took a deep breath, and said, ‘We found a tumour.’”
A New World
The next morning, Stacey and Asher were in an ambulance heading for Queensland Children’s Hospital in Brisbane. Ten-month-old Harper stayed with her grandparents.
“Straight away, your family is divided,” Stacey says. “It’s another world — one you don’t even know exists until you’re in it.”
There, doctors confirmed the devastating diagnosis: Stage 4 neuroblastoma, an aggressive childhood cancer that had already spread.
Stacey’s heart broke as she tried to process the words. “They told us we’d be in Brisbane for at least 18 months. I thought, How are we going to do this? But we’re a family of faith. I told myself — we’ll pray, and we’ll take it one day at a time.”
The Fight Begins
Just two days later, Asher began induction chemotherapy. Stacey stayed with him in Brisbane, while Andy continued working in Toowoomba, visiting on weekends. Harper remained with her grandparents.
“We were all separated,” Stacey says. “It was very, very hard. Asher didn’t understand why his dad couldn’t stay.”
The treatment was brutal. “Induction therapy was just horrendous,” Stacey recalls. “He had terrible mucositis, he was vomiting constantly. But he fought through it.”
After five rounds of chemotherapy, surgeons removed a 10-centimeter tumour wrapped around his spinal nerves. “You can imagine the pain,” Stacey says. “It’s hard to think about what his little body went through.”
When Everything Fell Apart
The next step was a bone marrow transplant — but complications struck. “He got these terrible burns,” Stacey says. “Then, just a week later, we were back in hospital with pulmonary veno-occlusive disease. Normally it affects the liver — Asher had it in his heart.”
Six consultants came into the room. Their words shattered everything.
“They told us they didn’t think Asher would survive the weekend,” Stacey says. “It was terrible. And Andy — he stood up and said, No. I don’t believe this is Asher’s time.”
Against all odds, Asher survived.
Loss and Hope
Months of recovery followed. The family sold their home in Toowoomba to stay near the hospital. “It was heartbreaking,” Stacey says. “We’d built that home. But we had to let it go.”
Eventually, Andy took unpaid leave, and the whole family reunited in Brisbane. “Finally, we were together again,” Stacey says. “That’s all that mattered.”
Asher endured twelve rounds of radiation therapy and five rounds of immunotherapy, followed by one final cycle of chemotherapy.
But despite everything, the cancer kept spreading. “He was in so much pain,” Stacey says quietly. “Every scan was worse. The doctors tried everything, but it just wasn’t working.”
When the oncology team said there were no curative options left, palliative care stepped in.
“His suffering was so immense,” Stacey says. “And yet, even then, he was thinking about others. When the helicopter would land with another sick child, he’d say, Mum, we have to pray for that kid.”
Saying Goodbye
When doctors told them Asher might have just 24 hours left, Stacey felt something shift. “I felt peace,” she says softly. “I knew then it wasn’t God’s will for Asher to stay. I prayed, Please Lord, take him home.”
Three and a half weeks later, surrounded by love, Asher passed away. He was four and a half years old.
What He Left Behind
“He only lived for four and a half years,” Stacey says, “but he taught us more than most people learn in a lifetime. About courage. About compassion. About faith.”
Even in the darkest moments, Asher’s heart was full of kindness. His prayers for other children — even as he suffered — showed a purity of spirit that will stay with his family forever.
“The grief doesn’t go away,” Stacey admits. “People think it gets easier, but it doesn’t. It hits you out of nowhere, and it hurts just as much as the day he left.”
But through her pain, Stacey has found purpose. Today, she’s an advocate for children’s cancer research — determined to make sure no other family walks this road alone.
“I don’t think people realise what these kids go through,” she says. “How horrific it is. It’s hard to hear, but people need to hear it — because that’s childhood cancer. We need more research, more awareness, more hope.”
Asher’s story is one of pain, yes — but more than that, it’s a story of light. A little boy who loved trucks, his sister, and his prayers for others left behind a legacy far greater than his years.
And in the quiet moments, when Stacey feels that ache of missing him, she holds onto one truth:
Asher’s light didn’t fade. It shines on — in faith, in hope, and in every child still fighting.
