Breastfeeding with Breast Cancer

My little squish is 6 months old today! If you know me, I go all out on Half-Birthdays, and today there are so many reasons to celebrate this occasion. These past 6 months have flown by. This is such a milestone, for more reasons than one. Of course my son is sitting up, scooting backwards, and being squishably cute, but it’s a massive milestone because when I received my diagnosis I was still in the 4^th trimester after birth. I was still very raw with hormones fluctuating and milk flowing like crazy. My husband and I went through the motions. We met with all the doctors, and got all the recommendations. I was urged by each and every one of them to stop breastfeeding my son because of the treatments they were recommending. Coming from a mom who has nursed all of her babies past the age of 2, this was devastating. When my whole world came crashing down, terminating the breastfeeding relationship I had just begun sounded like the last thing my heart could take. I promised myself that I would look into every single option, and I promised my baby that no matter what I would take care of him.

I made it very clear from day one that if I find it necessary to stop breastfeeding in order to save my life, I will do this at a moment’s notice. After a lot of prayer and listening with an open heart, I decided that I would continue to nurse Dawson until it was time to stop. When would that be? I had no idea. But for right then it was fine and safe, and I would just feed him the best way I knew how until there was something telling me I shouldn’t. It was my goal to be able to nurse for at least 6 months. So here I am, breastfeeding with breast cancer. Ha! Try Googling that one – you won’t find many resources or DIY instructions on where to start. And no, I cannot pass breast cancer along to my son by feeding him this liquid gold. That’s a thing. People have asked.

There are a few other things I tried Googling with little to no feedback: What does it feel like to have cancer? Cancer is supposed to be silent. Hard, painless nodules that creep up on you until it gobbles you up. This was not at all what I experienced. At my worst, it was hard for me to admit feeling as terribly as I did. It was hard for me to give myself grace and time for healing because I didn’t realize how depleted my body actually was. Exhaustion doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling my body went through. It felt like every single cell in my body was slowly asphyxiated by sludge. It took a ridiculous amount of energy to get up and do the most minor tasks. Unloading the dishwasher required a 2-hour nap. My body had been hit by a truck, and I couldn’t pick myself back up. I couldn’t stand up or hold my baby for more than short bits at a time without a deep boring pain at the center of my joints and throbbing aches all over my body. If my hips could have exploded, I’m sure they would have. Wearing my baby was almost completely out of the question. I had this recurring writhing knotted feeling creep in through my uterus and ovaries that would literally bring me to my knees. The tumor site itself felt like a searing hot fire poker burning into the depths of my breast tissue. A constant reminder of my current state. My mind went blank. I quite literally lost my mind, and could not find it. I was unable to remember the simplest tasks. I used GPS for places I had been dozens of times to avoid missing turns and getting myself lost. Trying to put together a grocery list brought me to tears on multiple occasions. From a seemingly healthy looking person on the outside, I was dying on the inside. With 3 children under the age of 5, a business to run, and the weight of the world on my shoulders, my stress levels were uncontrollable. So I prayed.

When traversing through the healing process after a cancer diagnosis I found a vast emotional component at the root of it all. The more I held my feelings in the worse my body felt. The first time I saw this shift was at one of my life’s most favorite experiences, the BIRTHFIT Summit in California. I was surrounded by a huge group of amazing, powerhouse, inspirational women, but felt despairingly alone. For the few women there who knew what was going on, they offered endless support, but I had no idea what I needed or how anyone could help. All I knew was that I was physically present, but the pain I was in almost sent me packing. I remember texting my friend late one night saying “I just can’t seem to find myself. Can you pray for me?” I had no idea what I even meant by that at the time. She sent me some inspiring scripture, and I was able to fall asleep knowing someone else took care of the worry. The very first time I acknowledged that I was afraid was when I faced my fear head on. At the end of an intense day filled with inspiration and love Dr. Lindsey Mathews was wrapping up with a community circle time. She asked if anyone had anything they wanted to share, or if anything came up, as she had done with all the other end of evening routines. I didn’t feel courageous. I felt scared shitless. But I raised my hand. In front of 40-some women, I offered up my secret to reveal my vulnerability and fear. I will never forget the experience that happened after I cried big fat ugly tears into that microphone. I was a part of the most amazing embrace, the biggest group hug, filled with the most love and compassion anyone could imagine. I was surrounded by the same women as the night before, but instead of feeling alone, I felt unstoppable. These women are my tribe. They showed up for me during my first release of fear and helped me step out of my comfort zone. The physical changes I felt after that were astonishing. First: I cried. Non-stop. I just cried my eyeballs out for a good 12 hours straight. Hugs and tears. Then something miraculous happened: I slept for 8 hours straight (with a 4-month old baby, folks!) The next day I woke up with no pain. I was tired, but I wasn’t burdened with the physical pain of carrying that load by myself. From that experience, I have incorporated a daily practice of emotional and spiritual support, re-centering myself, and embodying gratitude at its deepest level.

Today. I feel amazing. I have never felt so alive. I’ve never felt so strong and able, so full of energy and vitality. Looking back, I have an immense amount of gratitude for how far I’ve come.  There have been so many things along the way that have fallen into place for my spirit and my physical body to work in harmony towards healing. As my friend Mel says, we truly are spiritual beings, navigating this physical realm. I found that once you give yourself permission to allow that essential part of you, the True You, to shine through, you unlock a certain magic, where anything is possible.

There it was. I had found myself. Once this happened, I literally started experiencing myself as an outward expression of God’s love for the first time. Not just sharing this love, but embodying it.  I’ve been a Christian my whole life, and many people know me as being ‘strong in my faith’ – but for the FIRST time, without any boundaries I FELT the warm embrace of absolutely unaltered, unconditional, forever-and-ever-times-a-million LOVE is. Whether you call it God, the universal existence, the creator almighty, or however you associate with a higher power – I felt it. I felt connected to myself and to the universe. I felt what it meant to be forgiven, and to forgive myself for being so damn mean to myself for so many years. I cried big fat *beautiful tears and let it all go. I’m going to have a separate post all together for this ‘mom guilt’ people reference. They talk about it almost as if it’s some rite of passage, and I’d like to put that one to bed. Because when you experience a love like this, and love yourself for every ounce of who you are, you know that you can breathe in, and let it all out. You are forgiven, you are loved, and there is nothing left to feel guilty for. Watching my life unfold and experiencing myself AS love is a true gift each and every single day. The potential for amazing things to happen is far beyond my comprehension. I literally fall in love all day. I am overfilled with gratitude for every moment of where I am at in life. Cooking dinner: I’m telling my carrots I love them, stirring my soup with passion, and thanking my meal for unequivocal nourishment that will help my body heal and function at its best. (Don’t be mistaken. My life is still super messy. My kids still scream in my face and drive me nutso. Life is not all rainbows and sunshine. But even with their crazy shenanigans I find myself extremely grateful.) Have you ever *felt life* so deeply you could literally taste the excitement and embrace all sensations at once, enough to embody your true self? This is healing. THIS is life. 

For the record, the only pain I currently experience is in my glutes because I have started rocking out those squats… like a boss. #bunsbaby! I am devoting every second of everyday to the Total Human Effort of taking care of this physical body out of love and not fear. It is a beautiful thing to watch the progression of healing before my own eyes. For those who have been with me when I promptly recall facts and don’t lose my train of thought mid-sentence: feel free to slide me a high five or join my dance party, because that is huge! My brain is coming back too!  So here I am, breastfeeding with breast cancer, and “I’m totally killing it at momming right now” as the owner of a local coffeeshop told me last week. If he only knew how much that meant to me to hear! This half-birthday celebration is quite the milestone for my sweet son and for me.