A guest post by Amanda Thomas
A breast cancer diagnosis is terrifying at the best of times. Getting that diagnosis while pregnant with my second child was next-level fear. I was not just worried about my health, but that of my unborn baby.
I had gone through a couple of scares concerning my breast health. I’d find a lump, go to the doctor, and have a mammogram, ultrasound and biopsy only to be told it was benign. So when I found this latest lump during the first trimester of my pregnancy, I will admit I ignored it for some time. I assumed that it would be the same as the last few times and nothing of concern. However, the worry was always in the back of my mind. So I finally decided to go to the doctor and put my concerns to rest. I saw the breast surgeon. They did an ultrasound, and a couple of weeks later, they performed the biopsy. Then on September 5th last year, I found out through the patient portal I had triple positive, invasive ductal carcinoma breast cancer. Immediately, my mind began to race. I was pregnant. What would this diagnosis mean for me and my pregnancy?
Diagnosis and treatment in the second trimester of pregnancy
Things moved quickly. I had my first appointment with my medical oncologist three days after receiving my diagnosis. It’s crazy to express gratitude under the circumstances, but the timing worked in our favour. The doctor explained to me that they would not do chemotherapy on a mother in her first trimester. The fact I had waited a few weeks to get my lump examined meant my diagnosis didn’t come until my second trimester. That meant we could move forward with some form of treatment. While it was unsafe for me to have Taxane-based treatment, I was able to receive Doxurobicin (also called AC or the “Red Devil”) chemotherapy.
After the second infusion, I expressed concern to my doctor that my lump was getting larger, not smaller. We continued with chemotherapy but rather than wait, I was also booked for a single mastectomy in December.
Here again, things did not go to plan. By my surgery it was determined my tumour had grown to 14.5 centimetres and there was lymph node involvement, Stage 3A. Even more concerning, the pathology report showed they did not get clear margins. I could hear the angst in my doctor’s voice when she shared the news. The cancer was growing fast and not responding. They needed to up the ante and quickly. It was decided I would undergo a C-section at 34 weeks. And I would start full chemotherapy four weeks later, as soon as I had recovered.
My stress levels were incredibly high. I kept asking myself, ‘What will a month’s delay do to me, given the aggressive nature of my cancer?
A guardian angel appears
I believe that in times of great need, guardian angels make their appearance. A month after I was diagnosed, pregnant and afraid, I joined a Facebook group for pregnant women with cancer. There I found Maddie. She was just a few steps ahead of me on the journey. She too, had been diagnosed with breast cancer while pregnant. I hadn’t started chemo yet. I was terrified for myself and my baby. Maddie, a stranger, took me by the hand. She had gone through the same treatment, and her daughter had been born happy and healthy. It was just the story I needed to hear. I was finally able to get some sleep.
But Maddie’s support didn’t end there. She asked for my address, and the next thing I knew, a huge box with supplies to help me prepare for my treatment arrived at my door. Then, during the first few days of chemotherapy, Maddie was there for me yet again, sending me an Uber Eats gift card so I wouldn’t have to worry about food or cooking. We began talking almost daily united by our shared experience.
In one of those conversations, I told her I planned to name my daughter Aubri Hope. Soon after another gift arrived. This time it was a personalized pacifier holder with my baby’s name engraved on it and some onesies for the new little one.
In turn, I gifted her a necklace inscribed with a pause symbol, a message to both of us that our anxiety does not define us — and our worries do not hold our worth. I thought it would keep us connected.
Fortunately, my baby was born healthy and unaffected by her early delivery.
Sadly, Maddie, my guardian angel, passed away just a week before I gave birth. I still marvel that even though she was ill herself, in and out of hospital, she managed to take the time to bring me — a stranger — comfort and reassurance.
While still recovering in hospital from my C-section, I took a walk down the hallway to visit my new baby. Entering into the NICU, I looked at the board where the team’s names were displayed, searching for the name of the nurse assigned to Aubri Hope.
Her name was Maddie.
About the author
Amanda Thomas is the proud mom of two, and a Practice Administrator for Johns Hopkins Medicine. She recently completed her radiation therapy and is happy to report she is showing no evidence of disease. It has become her life’s mission to pay forward all of the love and support she received during the most challenging time in her life (in loving memory of Maddie).
