How I Found Deeper Meaning in Life After a Metastatic Breast Cancer Diagnosis

I’ve learned to focus on the small things and find deeper meaning in my life.

As I look forward to my 55th birthday in March, what strikes me most, apart from a deep sense of gratitude, is how often over the past 2 decades I didn’t think I would get here.

During my breast cancer journey, I’ve seen so much death and turmoil, and I was even told to get my affairs in order because I didn’t have long myself. But here I am, 23 years after my diagnosis, and my experience has led to me focusing on every moment and finding deeper meaning in my life.

The memories I’ve made with my daughters — and that I’m still making — are incredible. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here, none of us do, but I know that I see every day and every moment as a chance to live to my fullest.

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How my journey began

I felt a lump in my breast at age 31, when I was 8 and a half months pregnant with my second daughter, Alyah. My older daughter, Alexis, was just 2 years old. The OBGYN thought I had clogged milk ducts, and that was a relief at first. Then the lump began getting bigger — something that doesn’t happen with milk duct issues.

Even though I was very aware of how the lump was changing, I was shocked when the diagnosis of cancer came. The baby had to be delivered immediately because it turned out that the fast rate of tumor growth was connected to the pregnancy.

So there I was, a young mother and a young wife, and I was terrified. I thought, “I have to get home and take care of my babies.” That was my main focus, and I went into beast mode. All my energy got poured into being there for my girls.

After the tumor was removed, I had three recurrences about a year apart from each other, and on the second one, they told me it was metastatic because it had spread to my bones, lungs, and liver.

My oncologist saw it as a death sentence. She held my hands and looked into my eyes and said, “I need you to go home, quit work, and get your affairs together.” She didn’t call it “metastatic,” she used the word “terminal.”

But I refused to see it that way.

In my mind, I thought: “I have these babies who are only 3 and 5, and I will do whatever I need to do because I don’t want them growing up without me.” I decided I would fight with everything I had so that I could be here as long as possible for them.

I had no clue I’d be here this long, but getting that diagnosis really did change how I lived and still does.

Making memories every day

Hearing the word “terminal” gave me new perspective and new meaning.

I think if I didn’t have breast cancer, my focus wouldn’t have been so strong on the smallest of things. For example, when I go to the beach, I could watch the waves crash for hours. I think of all the times my daughters and I laughed about silly things, and I remember the joy on their faces.

Even now, with them grown at ages 23 and 25, my daughters ask where we’re going next, what’s the next trip, because I used to go on road trips with them all the time. Looking at my medical records, there were many monthlong gaps in treatment because I would take that time with them to drive and just be together, even when I was very sick.

Of course, I’ve had plenty of physical and mental pain, but being silly and appreciating what’s around me has been my coping mechanism.

I try not to focus too far out, I just think: “Get through this scan, get through this appointment, and let it go.” That really helps, because I’m not anxious about what might happen, I’m just moving forward based on today.

When I look back at the last 23 years, it’s not the surgeries and treatments that come to mind or the many doctor’s visits. It’s the laughter of my daughters I remember most, it’s the way the light hits the waves at the beach, it’s the trees at the park where I just sit and soak in that moment.

I know it sounds cliché, but I truly live in every moment of my time. I’ve never been willing to give that up, and no matter what happens next, I treasure the ability to be here, right now.