Diagnosed with Breast Cancer at 31 and 7 Months Postpartum: My Journey to Peace and Healing After a Double Mastectomy
This past spring, I took a leap in my career when I transitioned from a W-2 anesthesia job to working 1099 as a locum CRNA. It was a move toward freedom, flexibility, and creating a life that felt more aligned with my values.
I had no idea that a few short months later, I would be facing one of the biggest challenges of my life. At 31 years old, just seven months after having my first baby, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
How It Started
This summer, when my son turned six months old, I stopped breastfeeding. Not long after, I noticed a small lump in my breast. It hurt when pressed on which is how I found it: my baby boy crawling up my chest. But it was different and as a nurse anesthetist and healthcare professional, I knew not to ignore changes in my body.
In early July, I scheduled an appointment with my provider. She was kind and reassuring, saying it was probably residual from breastfeeding. Because of my family history of breast cancer, I was the one that advocated for myself and requested a mammogram and ultrasound.
The mammogram was clear, which felt like a huge relief. But the ultrasound told a different story. The radiologist came in to speak with me directly, explaining that the area looked suspicious and recommending a biopsy.
The Diagnosis: DCIS
A few days later, I got the call no one ever wants to receive. The biopsy results showed DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ), an early form of breast cancer confined to the milk ducts, essentially Stage 0.
Even though DCIS is considered early stage, it is still cancer. And as a new mom holding a six-month-old baby, the word cancer hit differently.
My doctor ordered an MRI, which revealed a 6-centimeter mass and questionable lymph nodes. That was when things got real. What had started as “probably breastfeeding related” turned into a major decision about how I wanted to fight and live.
The Treatment Decision
There were a few options on the table:
A lumpectomy, which would remove only the affected area but likely require radiation and frequent screenings (every 3-6 months). With the size of the mass and family history, this was NOT recommended by my healthcare team.
A single mastectomy, which might still mean chemo, radiation, and ongoing surveillance (every 6 months 1 year for… forever.)
Or a double mastectomy, which would remove both breasts completely, and (hopefully) avoid radiation.
Every option came with its own pros and cons. But I knew I wanted peace of mind, not a life built around fear, follow-ups, and waiting for the next scan.
After a lot of prayer, reflection, and late-night conversations with my husband, I chose a bilateral (double) mastectomy.
Genetic Testing and the CHEK2 Mutation
Around the same time, I completed genetic testing. The results were negative for the BRCA gene, but showed I carry the CHEK2 gene mutation, which is carried by about 1% of the population.
That information confirmed my choice. I wanted to make a decision that would not only give me peace today but also protect my future for myself, my husband, and our son.
Surgery and Recovery
On September 29, 2025, I underwent a double mastectomy and sentinal node biopsy. The days leading up to surgery were emotional, not just because of the physical change ahead, but because of everything it represented.
I was saying goodbye to a version of myself. To the body that carried and fed my son.
To a season of womanhood I had not expected to end so soon.
But I was also saying hello to peace, healing, and a second chance at life.
Recovery has been both humbling and empowering. There are moments of discomfort, but also moments of deep gratitude.
I am currently waiting (impatiently) on my final surgical pathology report, but I am surprised by how at peace I feel, both physically and mentally. I truly believe that peace comes from faith, from surrender, and from the incredible village surrounding us.
If you pray, please join me in praying specifically for: “no invasion found, clear margins, and clear lymph nodes.”
Faith, Family, and Finding Peace
Cancer has a way of shifting your entire perspective. Before this diagnosis, I was focused on growth as a CRNA, as a new mom, and as an entrepreneur building my businesses and blog.
But now, peace looks different.
It looks like faith over fear, surrender over control, and gratitude over worry.
My husband has been incredible throughout this entire journey. From the first appointment to every late-night conversation, he has been my constant support. He took care of me, our baby, and our home with strength and grace. Watching him step fully into that role reminded me how powerful love and partnership can be.
Rediscovering Purpose During Recovery
While I have been healing, I have also been reviving my legal nurse consulting business. It has been such a blessing to have meaningful, flexible work that allows me to use my clinical expertise in a new way while I recover outside the operating room.
Stepping back from the OR has given me time to reflect, write, and reconnect with why I started my business in the first place. Helping attorneys understand the medical side of complex cases has become a creative and fulfilling outlet while I focus on healing my body and rebuilding my strength.
It has reminded me that our purpose can evolve with our seasons. We can find fulfillment in new forms, even when life redirects us.
Living Flat and Feeling Fierce
I have not decided whether I will pursue breast reconstruction yet. For now, I am living flat and feeling pretty fierce.
There is something empowering about embracing my body as it is right now. About knowing I made the decision that gave me peace, and standing in that choice.
Whether or not I choose reconstruction later, I know that my worth, my femininity, and my strength do not depend on it… (some days I just have to remind myself of that more than others.)
What I Have Learned
This journey has taught me so much, but here are a few things I want to share with anyone walking a similar path:
Advocate for yourself. If something does not feel right, push for answers. The mammogram missed my cancer, but the ultrasound did not. Had I not advocated for myself, this might have looked very different.
Listen to your intuition. That quiet nudge inside you… listen.
Lean on your village. You do not have to be strong all the time. Let people show up for you.
Faith changes everything. Even in fear, there can be peace.
Your scars do not define you. They refine you to an even better version of you.
Moving Forward
Right now, I am healing. I am still a CRNA, mom, wife, believer, and business owner, but I am also a breast cancer survivor.
I am learning that life after cancer is not just about survival. It is about seeing life in full color again and realizing how precious every ordinary day is.
If you are reading this and walking through something similar, please know you are not alone. There is no “right” way to navigate this, only the way that brings you peace.
My hope is that by sharing my breast cancer journey, someone else feels empowered to advocate for themselves, trust their instincts, and hold onto faith even when the road gets hard.
Because peace is not found in perfect outcomes. It is found in trusting the One who carries you through the storm.
💗🎗️ Here’s to healing, faith, and fierce new beginnings.
