When I meet a survivor, I’m always curious as to what their sign was that something was off. For me, it was a dimple on my left boob, a couple of inches above my nipple. It was only apparent when I leaned forward. I caught a quick glimpse of it in the mirror by chance. I must have been lotioning my legs, or getting dressed, or something. Bryan was in the room and noticed it too, but we didn’t talk about it immediately. The next day, I leaned forward as I brushed my teeth to see if it was still there. It was. I didn’t worry too much about it at first. I was newly pregnant and knew that changes to my breasts were to be expected. 

We learned we were expecting on Monday, May 8, 2023. I was at a follow-up appointment with my primary care doctor. We had been trying to get pregnant for almost a year, and I knew I was in that window where I could take a pregnancy test. I asked if I could do one there; I figured it would be most accurate and save me a test at home. I was with my doctor when a nurse poked her head in the room and called her out. My doctor returned seconds later to tell me the test was positive and that I was pregnant. She looked shocked. I guess maybe this doesn’t happen often. It didn’t matter; I was overjoyed! It was my work lunch break, and I headed back to the office. I debated whether I should stop by Bryan’s job and tell him the news. I decided I would wait until I got home. I had a dance rehearsal after work that day, and it would be a long wait. But it is well worth it. When I returned to the office, I exclaimed, estoy feliz! (I’m happy!), to no one in particular. I remember a colleague, Sydni, smiling back at me. I held the best secret in the world.        

That weekend, my mom would be over for a Mother’s Day trip I planned for us in Niagara Falls. We wouldn’t tell her, we decided. We wouldn’t tell anyone until we were further along. I was aware of how common miscarriages could be. Okay, so I did tell a few very close girlfriends because I can’t carry such big news alone! And if anything were to go wrong, I would need my girls to lean on. Now, I love to tease my mom that we were on this trip, and she had no idea she would be a grandma! 

Sometime in the 4th and 5th week of pregnancy was when the dimple developed, and I noticed it. I talked about it to Bryan, and he thought maybe it was pregnancy-related, as I had also hoped. One day, I decided to look it up (of course!). Over and over, results indicated that a dimple meant a growth underneath pulling on the skin. I immediately called my OBGYN to book an appointment. My appointment would be three weeks later with a midwife. It was a long three weeks. We went to a wedding, and I had rehearsals and a dance performance. Still, with so much going on, I could not keep my mind off it. 

It’s finally June 14. The midwife did a breast exam and could not feel any lumps or anything unusual. I had dense breast tissue, she said. This makes it challenging to feel lumps and abnormalities in general. I leaned forward to show her what I had noticed. She had difficulty seeing it. Maybe the lighting was poor? Maybe my growing lactating breast made the dimple less pronounced? She wasn’t concerned, but she noticed I was and wanted me to have peace of mind. I asked what my imaging options were, and she ordered an ultrasound. That wouldn’t be for another week! 

I am now ten weeks pregnant. The ultrasound technician does their thing and hovers repeatedly over the area in question. It’s uncomfortable, like nails on a chalkboard, for me. She brings in another technician to take a look. They take more pictures and send them all over to the radiologist. The radiologist comes in (they only do that if something is wrong, I later learned). He wants me to get a biopsy. He’s explaining something to me. I ask him to pause. I need to call my husband and put him on speakerphone because I don’t know if I can relay whatever the doctor is about to tell me. Bryan is listening. There is a suspicious mass, and they need to take a biopsy to see if it’s malignant. Okay then. I was nervous, but I tried to stay calm. Benign growth can happen in pregnancy; maybe this was just that. I didn’t feel scared yet. That came later. The energy felt more due diligence, as in this is what we need to do next.

Between the ultrasound and biopsy appointments, blood work came back to tell us we were having a baby boy! (When you are in your 30s, there are certain tests recommended, and a little perk is that you can learn the gender, if you want to.) This was a nice distraction to help the days pass. I thought, if I don’t make it, Bryan will have a mini him. Someone to keep him from disappearing into the woods if I die young. I know a girl would have done the same, but it might be easier to raise a boy in general, and I wouldn’t have to worry about them getting endometriosis or breast cancer later in life (not quite, though, men get breast cancer, too). We had previously raised our niece for 7 years, and that was the hardest thing we ever did, hands down. So, boy news was very nice!

The biopsy was the following Monday, four days later. The Radiology Nurse Navigator called me ahead to go over the procedure and what to expect. She was a very sweet and caring older lady of retirement age. She wanted to launch her own business to help women navigate insurance when it came to cancer diagnosis and treatment. I admired her desire to start an impactful and meaningful new career. It was helpful for me to know the process, which was way more intense than I ever imagined!

The day of the biopsy, she asked if I had any questions. I had one; how worried should I be? That’s when I learned that the ultrasound showed a clear mass with characteristics of malignancy. It was rated a category 5, highly suspicious of malignancy, on the ACR BI-RADS (American College of Radiology Breast Imaging Reporting and Data System) scale. The radiologist did not tell me that at the ultrasound appointment! Though it was written in the report, which I did not read right away. Maybe he was trying not to worry me just yet. The nurse was very concerned about the finding; she told me so, and I could feel it and see it in her face. That’s when I grew concerned, too.  

Bryan could not be in the room with me during the biopsy. Thank goodness this nurse navigator was. (I wish I could remember her name.) She held my hand the entire time and helped me feel as comfortable as possible. She showed me so much love and compassion. I was not alone. There were several needles involved in the procedure. One to administer lidocaine to numb the area, thick biopsy needles that pulled the tissue sample out, and another needle to place a marker that would show on imaging exactly where the biopsy was done. I cried quietly through the entire thing. I held my belly and cried. I tried to focus on our baby and nothing else. I cried because it was painful, uncomfortable, and because I was worried. They played music of my choosing. I asked for Tibetan singing bowls. They offered me warm blankets. When the nurse navigator held my hand, I squeezed it tightly. I had to stay very still, and that was hard. Even with the lidocaine, it was still uncomfortable. There was a loud click every time the doctor pulled tissue out. It was still alarming every time, even when they warned me. They pulled out three tissue samples. They asked me if they could go back the second and third times. I appreciated that. I was all about cooperating because I did not want to come back again due to insufficient samples. I remember getting all my bravery from the baby growing inside me. I cried quietly, tears running down my face and onto the pillow. Afterward, I tried to compose myself, thanked everyone, and took my time to recover and get dressed. The nurse navigator offered me crackers and orange or cranberry juice. I took it, I needed it. I was so shaken. She told me it would take two days to hear back and that I was fine to return to work the next day. I took the rest of that day off. I remember sharing the procedure with my supervisor that morning. She reassured me, saying it wasn’t a big deal, that I’ll be fine, and that it’ll all be clear. She was wrong! 

The next day was Tuesday, June 27. I received preliminary results. It was indeed cancer, and I would be getting calls to meet with oncology that same week. I was at work when I got the call. I closed my office door. I don’t remember if I cried. I called and told Bryan right away. What came next was a flood of appointments: Medical oncology, surgical oncology, second opinions, second biopsy, surgeries, infusions, and on and on and on. I don’t know if I had a moment to feel. One thing was sure, I was glad to know. I hoped it was caught early enough. I decided I wouldn’t worry until I had more information: What stage was it in? What was my prognosis? How will this affect the baby? Were we still having a baby? Will I survive this? So many big questions.  

From that point on, it was all business. Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.