What It’s Like Being Pregnant with Metastatic Breast Cancer

I was in a hotel room in Reno when I discovered my first lump. I've always been a girl with small breasts. So when one morning I woke up with chest pain and a lump in my right breast, I noticed. I got out of my hotel bed and went straight to the bathroom to check everything. It was unlike anything I had felt before. I immediately told my husband about this, and he suggested that I get checked when I return home from a business trip. At that time I was working as a flight attendant.

The week I returned home, I went to see my primary care physician in McDonough, Georgia. I was told that the tumor looked unusual and they wanted to send me to another place for a mammogram. It was during my appointment that I was asked to take a pregnancy test (as pregnancy and breastfeeding can cause breast tissue to harden, which interferes with mammography) – the pregnancy test was positive. So they decided to do an ultrasound instead. I was surprised by this news – it was in November 2016, and a year earlier, in September, I gave birth to my son – but then I didn’t even have time to realize the pregnancy. I was so focused on the possible cancer diagnosis, which was delayed, and I couldn't wait to get the results of the ultrasound.

The ultrasound did not reveal anything alarming. In fact, they told me that everything is fine and most likely it is due to breast-feeding and hormonal changes [from the new pregnancy]. However, by December 2016 I was still feeling the same pain. They did a second ultrasound, and again there were no warning signs. So I just kept thinking, “OK, everything is fine.” But as the symptoms persisted, I became increasingly concerned. In January 2017, I went to my OB/GYN for a routine checkup and asked her to examine the lump. She agreed that this was not normal and referred me to a breast specialist.

I ended up getting a biopsy on Valentine's Day 2017. The next day was a weekday; I moved to the airline's corporate department and was working in the office when I got the call. When I answered the phone, Nurse Jennifer spoke to me. “Hi Mrs. Snell, I'm calling you with the results of my biopsy. “I wanted to tell you that it’s cancer,” I remember her telling me. She told me that I needed to return to the office as soon as possible.

I had never heard of a pregnant woman undergoing chemotherapy before. I knew I was resilient. But I didn't know about the little baby in my belly.

At that moment, all the air just left my body. I went outside in mid-February. I didn't even think about taking a jacket. I just needed fresh air. I remember walking around the parking lot, trying to make sense of what I was being told, trying to bring myself back into my body. Then everything went very quickly. Quite unexpectedly, I had a whole team of doctors: an obstetrician, an oncologist, a surgeon, and a baby specialist. Luckily, I felt truly supported and saw it all.

My entire medical team came together and talked to each other to come up with a treatment plan that was as simple as possible. Of course, I also became an honorary doctor overnight – after Googling everything. I had a lot of questions, especially about the safety of the baby. I had never heard of a pregnant woman undergoing chemotherapy before. I knew I was resilient. But I didn't know about the little baby in my belly. I asked if we could start treatment after the baby was born, but my treatment team was concerned that my cells were too aggressive. They assured me that starting chemotherapy in the second trimester and then stopping treatment in the third was safest for the baby.

So, in the second trimester, I had four cycles of intravenous chemotherapy every three weeks. My mother and aunt went with me to every meeting. Of course, I had bad days when I experienced the side effects of both pregnancy and chemotherapy (fatigue, hair loss, weight loss). But for the most part, I tried to stay positive and accept nothing less from the people around me.

I told my friends and family, “No, I’m not okay. I wake up in the morning, take a shower and pass out. However, the moment I step out of the shower, my day must continue.” I also needed them to continue as normal because I didn't want my baby to feel any stress or uncertainty—either from me or anyone else around me. Luckily, they all received the note.

Unfortunately, at 20 weeks of pregnancy, I learned that the original tumor had shrunk, but cancer has metastasized to the spine (middle and lower back). And yet I continued to hope. For some reason, I convinced myself that the test was wrong and that the bone scan, which they couldn't do while I was pregnant, would show something different. During my third trimester, I focused on healing and preparing my body for labor by trying to gain weight and eat enough for me and baby (which I struggled to do during chemo).

In July 2017, I gave birth to my daughter via Caesarean section. I had my fallopian tubes removed that same day. [to prevent another pregnancy]. I didn't want to have another child and my cancer was hormone receptor positive and estrogen receptor positive cancer. [meaning it uses hormones like estrogen and progesterone to grow; both increase dramatically in the body during pregnancy]. I remember feeling relieved when it was all over. I was born a healthy girl, 10 little fingers on my hands and 10 little fingers on my feet. She was amazing. When we took her home from the hospital, I felt like I had reached the finish line. I gave birth to a healthy child, and now I could fall apart.

But I couldn't. A few weeks later I went for a scan and found out that the cancer had spread to my jaw, sternum, spine and tailbone. They were not active, but they were present. So I was prescribed oral chemotherapy and will continue to take maintenance medications for the foreseeable future. My journey with metastatic cancer continues and will continue for the rest of my life, but it has taught me a lot about myself, including how strong I am.

If there is one piece of advice I would give to others who are diagnosed with metastatic cancer, it is that you remain in control of your health. For me, this was reflected in the people I chose to be around. I know that my emphasis on maintaining high morale and positive attitudes from those around me has been critical to my health. I even found a support group for young women with cancer. painted pinkwhich I still do today.

On the next stage of my cancer journey, I… transition to a supporting rolesince my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer in February. For me it's really a mixture of emotions. I'm surprised because she's older and I thought that if she got breast cancer it would have happened before me. I'm sad because I know the road she will have to take. But I also feel a little validated—like my journey wasn’t in vain. I went through it first. I did it. I know what to expect. I know the sadness that accompanies this. Now I can hold her hand because I've been here before.

Alexis Jones (she/her) is the head of health and fitness at Popsugar, overseeing coverage on the website, social media and newsletters. With more than seven years of editorial experience, Alexis has developed a passion and knowledge in the areas of mental health, women's health and fitness, racial and ethnic health disparities, and chronic disease. Before joining PS, she was a senior editor at Health magazine. Her other original articles can be found in the magazines Women's Health, Prevention, Marie Claire and others.