Our story:
“It did come back malignant.” Time stopped. Life changed. At that moment, I became a statistic. 1 in 8. The 1 in 8 women that are diagnosed with Breast Cancer.
Four days later, I became 1 in 3000. The 1 in 3000 of women diagnosed with breast cancer while pregnant. This was after my husband and I suffered a miscarriage six five months earlier. In a matter of months, as I lost parts of my body that made my
womanhood, my belly grew. Fear grew. What if my daughter does not survive this? What if I do not see my daughter go to Kindergarten?
Minutes after I received the phone call that the results of my lumpectomy indicated the need for more surgeries and now chemotherapy while carrying my daughter, I made a promise to God. If my unborn daughter and I survived this, I would share my miracle for the rest of my life.
Nine months, two surgeries, and six rounds of chemotherapy (4 rounds of Adrimycian and Cytoxan and then 2 rounds of Taxol) later, I heard the words:“She is out!” Time stopped. Life changed. Again. Harper Jaye Brubaker survived. I was surviving. God was completing our miracle. However, no one prepared me for the aftermath of postpartum and restarting chemotherapy (10 rounds of Taxol) with a newborn. Sitting in that infusion chair, I cried week after week. I was bald, sick, and miserable.
Fortunately, I had two of my biggest supporters – my nurse navigator and lifeline at the breast center, Patty, and best friend from high school, Maria who saw me absolutely falling apart. During one of my infusions, I received an email in which I could not
have anticipated the impact.
It read: “Spa Day – Karen Wellington Foundation.” Inside of the email was an invitation to a full spa day with a friend of
my choosing. For 10 months, I had not thought of anything else except cancer and being a mom. Now, I had something else to look forward to. Something FUN.
23 days after completing chemotherapy, I sat in a different chair. A pedicure chair. Instead of tears, I shared laughs with my best friend. My best friend who had been there for me through it all and knew that I needed this. I was still bald, still sick, but I did not feel miserable. I felt beautiful. I felt truly beautiful for the first time in 11 months. Even with no hair, no eyebrows, and no eyelashes.
This was a turning point for me. I still had radiation and immunotherapy to go – all during my daughter’s first year of life. That day gave me strength to go forward. From there I completed 30 rounds of radiation and a year’s worth of targeted treatments (Herceptin and Perjeta). My last treatment fell on my daughter’s first birthday. She just turned 5 on this past (May 21), and I am now four years out of treatment as well – healthy and happy.
Beth Brubaker