Single parenting with metastatic breast cancer (MBC)

Guest post by Natalie Kwadrans

It’s one thing to be a mom and a parent. To do these jobs while dealing with metastatic breast cancer, and as a single parent is one harsh dose of hard. 

I was over the moon when I became a mom 10 years ago, and again 8 years ago. I had – what seemed to be – the million-dollar family. A husband, two lovable rugrats, and two rambunctious Jack Russell pups. My days were filled with daycare and school dropoffs, playdates, extra-curricular activities, housework, yard work, homework, and all the scheduling and budgeting. My husband and I had good jobs and travelled several weeks a year. The perfect life that’s usually what we see posted on social media. Then there is “real life.” That moment where the kid’s laughter turns into a tantrum, the dogs start barking right after a kid falls asleep for a (much needed!) nap, one, or worse when both kids get sick in the middle of the night. That’s when the parent stays home from work to care for the little one. The work deadlines pile up, the furnace dies in the dead of winter. You know, all the “adult” stuff that is part of being a parent. It was exhausting, but was exactly what I signed up for. I wouldn’t have change it for the world.

After finding a breast lump, our world changed

Then one day, I found a lump in my breast. Initial screening and a biopsy confirmed it was breast cancer. After the initial consultation my husband and I had with the doctor, we left hopeful that surgery, and chemotherapy would do the trick. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy for us. After additional scans, it was discovered my breast cancer had distantly metastasized. I was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer, which is incurable. I was told at that time, I could expect to live between two and three years. My kids were only 2.5 and 5 years old at the time of my diagnosis. 

And just like that, my life, and my family’s life changed. It became so very much harder.

My temporary leave of absence from work became a permanent thing. I found myself juggling weekly appointments, treatment side-effects, and battling exhaustion beyond anything I could ever imagine – and believe me, I understood exhaustion — I am a diagnosed narcoleptic. 

I was no longer able to pick the kids up from daycare or school. I had to step back from attending my kids’ activities. I couldn’t take them to their play dates. Eventually I became so sick that for three months, I was barely able to leave my bedroom without help. I was virtually housebound. 

Because of my condition, my husband essentially became a single parent with a wife dying of metastatic breast cancer (MBC). To cope, he leaned on friends and did activities with them and their kids. Eventually, the tension we were feeling became a fight. It’s something that all married people do. However, it was during this fight I learned from him that our relationship was over. Dealing with my MBC diagnosis was too much for him. He said he needed to take care of himself. So he left with the kids to stay with his family for six weeks — saying it would give me time to recover.

From cancer diagnosis to divorce

Cancer wasn’t part of the life I signed up for. However, I didn’t get a choice in the matter. Becoming a single mom diagnosed with incurable cancer wasn’t the life I signed up for either. However, once again, I didn’t have a chance in the matter. I just had to deal with it the best I could. Slowly, I became stronger. I began doing more on my own. My kids returned home after their six weeks away with their dad. And from that point on, we started forging a new life for ourselves.

I’m thrilled to say that I have exceeded the two to three-year life expectancy timeline I was given. I’ve now been living with MBC for five and a half years and managing as a single mom for almost four and a half years. 

I won’t lie. It’s been very, very hard. Even harder was watching my young kids trying to understand and learn how to live in two homes, with two very different family s circumstances. 

My parenting schedule revolves around my treatment days, which typically fall on Mondays and occasionally Tuesdays. So based on that, I get the kids on Wednesdays and Thursdays, when I feel better. My ex and I then alternate weekends. 

I have ongoing palliative treatments every three weeks, which means I can’t work. I am on a disability income and our finances are strained to say the least. Travelling is difficult because I can’t save up enough for a vacation on a disability income. The child support I receive from my ex covers exactly that: food, clothes and other essentials for the kids. 

New perspectives and new traditions

Initially, I thought I was failing my children. I was worried because I couldn’t give them what other kids had. I was hard on myself. Sometimes I still am. That said, I needed to find a way to work and live within my means. Material “things” have become so much less important than they were before by diagnosis and divorce. 

Instead, we focus on making memories. We have created new family traditions. For example, my kiddos paint a rock every Christmas, and write their name and the year they painted it. We now have a growing “Christmas rock” collection that goes under our tree. Every night, when we snuggle on my bed together before their final tuck in, we share the best things in each of our days. 

I now have a boyfriend who is incredibly supportive and understanding. If he’s visiting me or our friends and family are staying with us, we invite them onto my bed to join in our daily tradition. 

After watching a movie together, we now get up and dance to the music during the credits, as we hope that movie has “credit cookies.”

There are still days I come down hard on myself. I find myself comparing my situation to other single moms, or comparing what other kids have that mine don’t have. When that happens, my incredibly wise boyfriend reminds me about times I managed to put huge smiles on my kids faces. It’s exactly what I need to hear in that moment. 

I didn’t sign up to be a single mom with metastatic breast cancer. I did sign up to be the best mom I could be to my kids, regardless of the circumstances. And that’s what I do, every single day.

Natalie Kwadrans has been an advocate for cancer patients since she was diagnosed with de novo, triple-positive breast cancer in 2019. She is a patient advocate with Dense Breasts Canada, a patient partner with the Canadian Society of Breast Imaging and a Terry Fox Ambassador and a Patient Representative for Marathon of Hope Cancer Centre’s Network (MOHCCN).

Natalie completed a BSc, though she altered course to compete as a snowboard racer for Team Canada. She then pursued graduate-level studies in business and, over her two-decade-long career, broke down cross-organizational silos to implement customer-centric strategies. She was a sessional Bachelor of Business (BBA) instructor at three universities and holds Project Management Professional, Certified Public Accountant and Certified Management Accountant designations. Halfway through her MSc from HEC Paris she was diagnosed with cancer. Her ongoing palliative treatments forced Natalie to quit her career and studies.