How the journey began (Part 1)

All of my life I have struggled to find a purpose. I tried everything from counseling to wedding planning. Who knew it would take a cancer diagnosis to give me a passion.
For me my diagnosis was an unexpected mixed blessing. No one ever wants to be diagnosed with the “big C” and believe me when it all first started in December 2005 I did not look at it as a blessing at all…it felt like a punishment, an isolating punishment. But while I was being treated I met some of the most wonderful people I had ever met and they have changed my life. I soon realized I was not alone, but part of the most amazing sisterhood.

Let me back up some and tell you how I became a member of the club
Unfortunately some of what follows will be sad but that is life, right?
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I met the man of my dreams in March of 2000, when I was 27. Matt and I married in October 2002 and were busy planning our future. Matt was in technology sales and I was selling bridal gowns at the time. We had two boxers, Clancy and Sully and were soon expecting our first child. We built our home on the Connecticut shoreline while I was pregnant with our daughter Riley and in April of 2004 she joined us in our new home. Life was good. We were happy, excited and still had that newlywed glow.

In November Matt’s mom was not feeling well and we were helping her get a battery of tests done. She had stomach pain and elevated sugar levels. The doctors diagnosed her as diabetic while running further tests. The final diagnosis was determined to be AML…Leukemia. This was a huge upset for us as a family. Matt’s mom Mary was a wonderful woman whoas a mother of eight had always put others needs before her own. She had nursed her 34 year old daughter who passed away from Multiple Myeloma and Matt’s father who had passed on from lung cancer. She was truly one of the kidest, most gentle souls I had ever met. The pain of losing her was unbearable. Mary lasted four months after her diagnosis. She left us peacefully with all of her children around her. This was February 2005.

While my husband Matt and I were grieving his mother’s death we decided to start trying to conceive our second child. In March I bought and used a pregnancy test and the result was positive. We were thrilled and looking forward to delivering some good news to the family. Sadly I started to bleed at 8 weeks and when I went to the obstetrician I was told I’d had a chemical pregnancy. This is where there is a surge of hormones and a fertilized egg bit it does not implant. This was sad new for us but it did not discourage us from trying again.

In May I again got a positive result on a pregnancy test. Unfortunately this too was another chemical pregnancy. We hadn’t had these problems with our first pregnancy so as you can imagine this was causing quite a roller coaster of emotion. It was for this reason we decided to put it off for a few more months.
After a summer of ice cream cones and carousel rides with Riley I bought an ovulation kit to begin trying again. I never had the opportunity to use it because unbeknownst to me I was already pregnant! This time it was a real viable pregnancy and we were over the moon excited!

From the start this pregnancy was different from my first. I was experiencing terrible migraines and was vomiting as a result. I had no cravings and actually had very little appetite. I would cook a full dinner for Matt and then I couldn’t bring myself to eat it. I ate a lot of peanut butter and jelly. I also had a terrible case of laryngitis and seemed to catch anything that was going around. All of this wasn’t of great concern to me because I was busy planning for my second child and had a precocious 18 month old to keep me occupied. I was also the organizer extraordinaire of playgroups, babysitting co-ops and Girl’s Nights Out.

Thanksgiving passed and the Christmas rush had begun. Matt and I were filled with excitement in anticipation for our daughter’s 2nd Christmas. One night after putting Riley down to sleep for the night, I was in the shower, washing up as usual when I ran my soapy hand over my breast, and that is when I felt it. There was a lump.

Huh, where did that come from? I wasn’t overly concerned because of the changes the breasts experience through during pregnancy. I decided I’d mention it at my next baby appointment. Outwardly I wasn’t very concerned but once you find a lump it is like your hand has a magnet attached to it and you HAVE to touch it.

At my next baby appointment I was lucky enough to have the senior doctor in the office as my guy that day. We talked baby and I was given a positive report and at the end of the appointment I said “oh and by the way, I found this lump in my breast”. After he felt the lump things started to take on a more serious tone. He quickly scheduled an ultrasound and a core needle biopsy. I still wasn’t worried because many of the women I had talked to before going to the doctor had had lumps that were benign.

During the ultrasound, the technician was very friendly and she looked at the image and said “ it doesn’t look like cancer. Cancer looks more like a hamburger patty”. The doctor came in and agreed that it didn’t appear cancerous and I heard the word Fibroadenoma. I walked out breathing a sigh of relief.

Next step was a core needle biopsy to be safe. When I met the general surgeon who performed this procedure we instantly clicked. We joked and swapped stories. When she performed the biopsy she commented on my dense breast tissue and said that the lump in question was behaving like a “Fibroadenoma”, meaning when the needle went in the lump would push away. So again I left feeling relieved and with a clear mind. That was December 19th.

My “D” (diagnosis) Day was December 22, 2005. I had just put Riley down in her crib for her after lunch siesta when I received a call from my surgeon’s office. The voice on the other end stated that the results of my biopsy were in and the surgeon would like to see me that afternoon. The surgeon would like me to see her at her city location not the quaint office in the town next to me where I’d had my biopsy. I immediately felt the urgency of this meeting but was still in denial until that voice on the other end of the line said “Oh and can you bring your husband?”. This is when I knew I was in trouble, I was sick, I had cancer. It was all I could do not to barge in my daughter Riley’s room, wake her up and hold her close to me. I was scared and as I looked down at my bulging belly, full of questions.

My husband Matt came right home. We dropped Riley off with a friend and drove to the surgeon’s office. Fear and uncertainty hung in the air but so did a thick blanket of denial. We still hadn’t heard the words yet so it still wasn’t real.

We sat in the exam room and when the surgeon that had been friendly and full of jokes during my biopsy walked in,her demeanor was the complete opposite. She sat down on a round stool in front of me and said that she was surprised when the results came back as malignant and that I had cancer. In her second sentence she said she was recommending an immediate mastectomy. All of a sudden I was in a bubble. It was like I was in a movie, I could see the doctor and my husband’s lips moving but all I could hear was distorted voices. Maybe that was because I was mumbling my mantra of “holy shit” and “oh my god” over and over again as I rocked back and forth on the exam table. It was all too much to take. First you said I had cancer…understood. But you want to take my breast off too?? The hits just keep on coming!

As my initial shock fog lifted, I was able to start concentrating on the baby and what this would mean for her. The surgeon stated that since I was past my first trimester, surgery and chemotherapy, if needed, should be safe. Chemotherapy? Ok, I needed a breather. Matt and I left with an appointment with a medical oncologist ( cancer doctor) for the following day. I immediately called my mother who got in her car and drove down for the night to help with Riley and to comfort me.

The next day, December 23rd we met with an oncologist who laid out options and suggested treatment plans, all of which had chemotherapy included. Which meant to me that I had cancer, they were going to chop off my breast and I was going to lose my long blond hair, all while still pregnant. Wow, bald and pregnant, now there is a look you don’t see everyday.