Breathing Through the Storm: My Journey with Cystic Fibrosis

I refuse to let cystic fibrosis define me. Once hesitant to acknowledge it, I now proudly raise awareness while leading an active life – playing and coaching netball, running a club, and balancing motherhood. Now a mum of one and expecting my second child, I prove that CF warriors are resilient and limitless.

29 January 2025 | 5 min read

Picture of Diannah Melluzzo
Diannah Melluzzo
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For 37 years, I have lived with a ticking clock in my lungs. Diagnosed with cystic fibrosis (CF) just weeks after birth, I grew up knowing that every breath was something to fight for. My childhood was relatively healthy, with only a few hospital stays, and I managed to keep up with life’s adventures. But as I stepped into adulthood, things began to change.

 

When I turned 18 and transitioned to The Alfred Hospital, my lung function started a slow, relentless decline. I adapted, pushing through treatments and setbacks, but nothing could have prepared me for what came next. At 30, I found out I was pregnant with my first child—a moment of pure joy mixed with fear. My lung function, already fragile, plummeted from 60% FEV1 to 30% FEV1. Every breath became harder, but I refused to give up. With continuous intravenous antibiotics and unwavering determination, I fought to keep both myself and my baby strong. Against the odds, I naturally delivered a beautiful, healthy baby boy at 36 weeks.

 

Six years later, I discovered I was pregnant again. But this time, the battle was even tougher. My lung function had declined even further, and doctors urged me not to continue with the pregnancy. The risks were too high. But I couldn’t let go—I followed my heart, clinging to hope. I spent weeks in the hospital on aggressive treatments, trying desperately to regain strength. As my condition worsened, I was transferred to Monash Hospital, where a specialized team of obstetricians and respiratory physicians could monitor me closely.

 

At 32 weeks, my body was failing me. Breathing became an unbearable struggle, and exhaustion set in. The decision was made—I had to deliver early. Surrounded by a team of incredible doctors, nurses, and physiotherapists, I gave birth to my son, Noah, in the ICU. It was a moment of both triumph and heartbreak – he was small and fragile, spending five weeks in the NICU before coming home. But he was here. He was mine. And he was worth every fight. Then, on September 11, 2024, my life changed forever. After years of struggling, I received a double lung transplant at The Alfred Hospital. Words will never be enough to thank my donor’s family for their unimaginable gift or the incredible medical team who gave me a second chance at life. The difference was instant—within days, I could breathe in a way I hadn’t in years.

 

Since leaving the hospital, everything has changed. I’m not just surviving—I’m truly living. I’m a stronger, healthier, and more present mother to my two boys. I’m doing things I never thought possible, embracing every moment with gratitude and joy.

To anyone facing what feels like an impossible battle, please know this: there is light at the end of the tunnel. Hold onto hope. Follow your heart. And never stop fighting for the life you deserve.

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