08/07/2026
The past two weeks have been a whirlwind.
On July 29th, I received a MyChart test result that sent me spiraling. Nobody called me. I read the results, took a screenshot, and sent it to the first person I could think of to see if I was reading them correctly.
I read these results right in my driveway, just before going to a prenatal with a mama. She texted me that she was with a patient and would call me back as soon as possible.
My heart dropped.
I knew she knew.
I went ahead and drove to my studio to meet this mama. As I was pulling in, my friend and Comfort Care Doula for Loving Benjamin was coming out of the studio. Just as my client pulled in, Misti looked at me and said, "How are you?"
And I broke.
I told her, "I just got the results of my biopsy back. I have cancer. Endometrial cancer."
Just that word.
That damn C word that millions have lost a loved one to.
I had it.
And I didn't know what it all meant or how I was going to manage anything.
My client had just pulled up, and I ended up bawling all over her for a moment.
I thought my symptoms were just perimenopause, my Hashimoto's, and the fact that I run two businesses and have a crazy on call life.
Cramps happen.
Strange monthly cycles happen.
I had normal yearly exams.
Everything should be normal.
But it wasn't.
The report said, "Grade 2 Endometrial Carcinoma."
What the heck was that?
Google said cancer.
I didn't have time to process.
I needed to get my prenatal finished and get the rest of my day going.
Once again, I would need to wait.
But that's my normal.
That's what moms and busy businesswomen do, right?
I felt better for a moment.
I finished my prenatal, and then I called Stephanie back.
She told me the pathology report confirmed that, yes, I have cancer. She reassured me that it more than likely meant a total hysterectomy and that she has known many women who have had this.
I did feel comforted in that moment.
I'm 48, in perimenopause, and while my occupation with birth and women revolves around uteruses, I didn't really need mine anymore.
I think I was masking that pain a little bit.
Deep down inside, I think I was feeling like I would be losing my identity.
Like being a woman means that I have to have a uterus and all the reproductive organs.
I may be slowly accepting that's not true, but for a birth worker, it's a bit ingrained in who I am.
I had to come home and tell my husband next.
I mean, he knew we were waiting on results and that there could be a possibility that something was wrong.
I texted him to come in from his shop office when he had a moment.
He looked at me, and I just started to cry.
"I have endometrial cancer," I said to him.
He hugged me and said, "We'll get through this."
The rest of the day was a blur. I had to cancel a session. I was a mess. Thankfully, the sky had turned gross, and it didn't make me feel so bad that I had to reschedule.
My phone rang, and another familiar name popped up. Another sweet midwife. She was calling to tell me my results.
I already knew.
I told her I had sent them to Stephanie and chatted with her. Because what are you supposed to do when you know people who are like family can read the results?
This midwife told me how sorry she was and that I was the first person she has ever had to call and give news like this. She gave me the next steps and the referral to GYN oncology and said scheduling would call me for CT scans. She wished me all the best and said I could reach out anytime I needed.
It really did help to know that I have built that relationship with these midwives and that I could really reach out if I had any questions. What an honor and privilege to be part of a community like this.
My CT scans were scheduled for Friday afternoon.
That Wednesday evening, I was thankful to have a few hours of normalcy and attended a breastfeeding class with a few of my fellow doulas. I shared the news with them then and immediately was met with grace and understanding. After the class, they asked if they could pray with me and for me.
Again... immense gratitude to have such an amazing community of birth workers.
Thursday, I made all my calls to family members and shared the news with them. My heart was so heavy and full of worry, but also some reassurance that my pathology looked pretty okay and that my CT scans would show if there was any spread.
Friday was here.
My CT scans were scheduled in the afternoon. Loving Benjamin had a call that morning. I just couldn't serve today. I felt horrible. I called Misti, and she was able to go for me and capture those sweet moments and make some memories.
I went to my CT scans, and then that evening, I was able to just be with my family, have dinner, go to the lake, and have some fro yo. (Yes, my kiddo NEEDED fro yo.) It was a good distraction. I was trying to be brave for my family.
Then I got a text from someone whose friend had just given birth to a stillborn son.
I let her know that we could serve in the morning.
While this was the third family Loving Benjamin was serving that week, my heart went in with openness to however the family responded in their darkest moments. We wrapped this family in love and made some beautiful memories. My heart was still heavy, but full that we were able to give them just a few precious memories together as a family.
Sunday felt like a blur as I think my head was coming to terms with, "Okay... you just need to have a hysterectomy, and things should be good."
I should have stayed out of the endometrial cancer groups.
I was thinking support, but instead I ended up feeling a bit overwhelmed.
Then... I got that text.
"I think my water broke."
Yay... sweet distraction. A mama was going to have another baby!
She was able to wait until the next morning to go in and get things started for an induction, as her waters had not ruptured, and she was ready to just have her baby in her arms.
This birth was fairly quick and quite special to me. 😉 I'll be able to share soon!
I got home around 3:30 a.m. on Tuesday and crashed hard.
Tuesday felt fairly normal except for the extreme pain my entire body was in. Probably a flare from the stress of the past few days. Hashimoto's is strange like that, and man, when I'm stressed, I hurt so, so bad.
I went to bed, and around 2:30 a.m. Wednesday morning, I got a text.
"I'm having contractions!"
They went from 10 minutes apart to 3 minutes apart in a matter of 45 minutes. Her husband then called and said, "We're headed to the birth center."
I jumped up, got ready, and ran out the door, only to arrive at the birth center and see Mom on her hands and knees on the front porch.
I flew out of my car and helped her and her husband inside.
Things were moving so super fast.
In no time, Mama was in the tub, and baby was born.
I think we were at the birth center for about 45 minutes before baby came!
This was also the mama who had to see me melt down over my new diagnosis.
I wrapped up things after a few hours and again went home to shower and take a nap.
Wednesday was kind of a fog. Two moms in 24 hours makes your head spin!
Then it happened again...
"I think I'm leaking water."
Followed by a phone call.
"My water just broke all over!"
So... off we went to the birth center again for antibiotics.
Thankfully, after the antibiotics, we were all able to go home and rest, and Mom and Dad just had to come back every four hours.
Around 11 a.m. on Thursday, Mama and I met up to do some labor work and prep to try and get things started.
We did EVERYTHING we could all day long.
Around 11 p.m., Mom and Dad made the choice to go to the hospital to get some Pitocin going.
You know how it is at hospitals...
About 1 a.m., Pitocin was going, and things were soon moving.
Mama did amazing and had her sweet boy just before 5 a.m. this morning.
I felt horrible, but as soon as it was okay to do weights and measurements, I asked if we could because I was meeting my GYN oncologist this morning at 8:30.
I was able to leave, run home in a fog, take a quick shower, grab a cup of coffee, and wake up my husband to have him drive me to the appointment.
There was no way I was going to be able to make the drive.
Matter of fact, I'm not quite sure how I'm writing this now.
Other than I knew as soon as I had a plan, I needed to share it with my clients... YOU.
Many of whom I have grown to love and have friendships with.
I promise, if I forgot to call or text someone and you're finding this out now, I'm sorry.
We were on the drive to the hospital, and I shared with my husband that last night, when I was driving to the hospital and passed the big Packnett Family Cancer Center, I started to cry.
I didn't want to walk in there this morning and feel the heaviness of finding out more.
We met my friend Shawnna, who was going to help take notes and remember my questions.
Thank goodness, because my brain was mush.
(Still kind of is.)
I met my GYN oncologist.
She reviewed my biopsy and CT scans with us and said that she really felt like things looked good for a total hysterectomy. She assured me that this is a very common procedure.
She showed us where the cancer is and talked to us with such kind words.
She said she couldn't say for sure, but the staging of the cancer would come after the pathology report. But things were looking like Stage 1 or Stage 2 and that surgery should most likely take care of things.
I'm going to finish out the rest of this month as I have a few more moms due, and really, I can't afford to take off work.
Being self employed has its perks, but it also has many factors that force us to work ALL the hours we can.
We never know when it's feast or famine.
If you have made it this far, I'm so thankful for your support.
I have wondered how I'm going to share this with everybody and how much is too much.
But then I made up my mind and my heart that I have ALWAYS been a storyteller.
I have always shared, and probably overshared.
But that's me.
That's what I do.
I advocate for sharing our stories.
I think that's what many photographers do.
We capture time and tell stories.
We freeze memories, and we evoke a feeling.
I don't think I'll be down too long.
Heck, I was serving for Loving Benjamin a week after a breast reduction.
(That was too soon, and so was the newborn session at two weeks out.)
But... we do what we gotta do, and it made my heart happy.
I don't sit still for too long.
So I anticipate this won't take me down.
I'm thankful that this cancer is very curable and that surgery should be the only thing I need.
However, I will cross that bridge when I come to it, and I know I'll have a huge community behind me to back me up and come help should I need it.
I know all I have to do is ask.
And yes... that's hard for most women.
So maybe don't ask.
Just show up.
That's what community does.
We show up for each other.
I'll wrap up this book by saying, please pray for peace, understanding, and good results.
I'm grateful that this journey isn't nearly as scary and hard as many others I know right now.
Please pray for them too.
Thank you for allowing me to share.
Hugs to all who have heard those words...
"You have cancer."
