“You have an incredible intuition,” my therapist remarked, catching me off guard. As a mom of four, I often feel like I’m juggling chaos—barely managing to shower, let alone tune into the whispers of my body amidst the noise of daily life. I smiled, unsure of how to respond to her compliment.
In the days that followed, her words echoed in my mind. How was I able to recognize that my body was signaling something important? How did I sift through the clamor of motherhood to hear that inner voice? The truth is—I’m not exactly sure. But I’m profoundly grateful I did.
Last March, my baby daughter, only a few months old, would often rest her tiny hand on my upper breast. That area started to feel unusually tender. Whenever I moved her hand away, she would instinctively place it back. Soon, even my seatbelt felt uncomfortable, and my cross-body bag was irritating. Something was definitely off.
I visited my gynecologist, who recommended an ultrasound and mammogram. I promptly scheduled the imaging appointment for just a few days later. Afterward, I spent a tense twenty-four hours waiting for news.
When the call finally came, the nurse assured me, “Everything is fine. They’d like you to come back in six months for another ultrasound.” I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Having had two benign breast lumps removed in the past, I thought this would be a similar situation. But deep down, I sensed that this time was different.
I called the nurse again, answering her typical questions about caffeine consumption and changes in the lump. “I need to see a surgeon,” I insisted. She offered me a few referrals, and I wasted no time in making an appointment.
The following weeks moved in a blur. I had an initial consultation, then a biopsy a week later, and three weeks afterward, I returned for my results. I sat in the exam room scrolling through social media when the doctor entered. In that moment, I knew something was wrong. Moments later, she delivered the devastating news: I had breast cancer. She bombarded me with diagrams and pamphlets, but I could barely process anything. Somehow, I drove from her office to pick up my kids, still in shock.
Just 56 days later, I underwent a bilateral mastectomy with direct-to-implant reconstruction. I was offered the option of radiation and a lumpectomy, but I couldn’t shake the unease about that choice. Was I scared? Absolutely. But I knew it was the right decision.
Weeks after surgery, my pathology results confirmed the presence of previously undetected invasive breast cancer. This validated my choice of mastectomy.
Losing my breast was a challenge—it continues to be. While I’m grateful for the implants that give me a semblance of normalcy, they lack sensation and remind me of what I lost. Cancer is merciless; it doesn’t discriminate based on age, family, or career. It arrives uninvited, and how we respond is entirely up to us.
I’m incredibly thankful that I took the time to listen to my body. Throughout my cancer journey, that inner voice has guided me and may have even saved my life. So, when you feel that persistent nudge from within, don’t ignore it. Heed it. It could make all the difference.
For more insights on navigating motherhood and health, check out our post on the At-Home Insemination Kit and learn about ways to enhance your family life. Also, if you want to explore wellness for children, Yoga for Kids offers great resources. For more information on pregnancy and self insemination, Progyny Blog is an excellent resource.
In summary, listening to your body can be life-saving. Embrace your intuition and act on it, because you never know how crucial it might be.