How I explained breast cancer to my son: A mother’s journey

Then, my doctor called unexpectedly, saying, "Hey, we see something that we didn't see last year." If you know me, you know I am extra, and I freaked out.

After a second mammogram with an ultrasound, my doctor said he was sure I had breast cancer, and I lost it. Held together by composure in the doctor's office, I broke down outside, unleashing the ugly cry. I kept thinking, "Wait, I have a kid, and I cannot leave him with my family! What does this mean for him?”

I was unaware of all the processes related to breast cancer. A nurse scheduled all my upcoming appointments to complete the biopsies, meet the oncologist, talk to the breast cancer surgeon, as well as consult with the plastic surgeon. But I still felt that I didn’t know what to expect. I spent a day researching all I could find about breast cancer. I created a composition book with all my appointments, symptoms, and blessings given to me by others. This book was especially helpful after starting chemo treatments.

A mother’s dilemma: Balancing honesty with protection

I wanted to wait until after my son's birthday in April to tell him the news. My belief is to always be honest and truthful with him. I told him that this situation will affect us in different ways but that we are in it together. I said, "There are some bad cells in Mommy's body." Then I explained that for me to be around for more birthdays, I would have to lose my breasts.

I also lost something else: my fiancé. During this ordeal, he had decided he didn't want to be around. So, when my son's teacher called to say that he was acting differently at school, I understood he was going through a lot of stress. In a meeting with the teacher, I learned that this new behavior coincided with the time that I told him about my diagnosis. I then told the teacher about my diagnosis. She was supportive and even prayed with me.

My son was anxious about my upcoming surgery. When I went to the store to return some new bras, he began to cry. I asked, "What's wrong, what happened?" He said, "Mommy, I don't want you to lose your breasts." I gently explained that if I don't have this surgery, I could get really sick, and I didn't want that. I also told him that I need him to be very good in school, because I am so proud of him when he behaves.

We had about a month to mentally prepare for the surgery in May. I found a video on YouTube that showed the process of a double mastectomy, and we watched it together. I continued to answer his questions and made sure to give him extra hugs and support. The night before my surgery, as he was sleeping over his grandparents, we spoke via FaceTime about it. I told him that it was important for him to behave in school, and, as soon as I was done, I would call his teacher. True to my word, once I was out of surgery, I messaged the teacher to tell my son that I was done, and that I will see him after school. When he came into the hospital room to see me, he was elated and even wanted to see my scar.

My son’s unwavering support after surgery

Once I was discharged from the hospital, he returned home, but his grandparents continued to be a big help as Grandpa would take him to school in the mornings, and Granny would stay with me during the day. In the evenings, though my son had been sleeping in his own room, he would come in my room late in the night. That first night, he said, "Hold me," and I replied, "Mommy can't, but I can hold your hand." Once I got my tubes removed, I was able to sleep in a more comfortable position. Cuddling my son made a huge difference for both of us.

As time went on, he wanted to help me with everything. He would fill my water cup, help me put on my shoes, write the measurements of my fluids, and sometimes even help me take my bath. He told the night nurse, "Now, you need to get in here and help my mom take her bath because I must go to school." The night nurse would jump up to help me in the bathroom.

As I prepared for chemotherapy, I turned to YouTube once again. I shared a video with my son that described the medication I had to take as "red rubies" that pirates had to find. This became a tool to discuss the possibility of sickness and the need for him to spend weekends with Granny for safety during treatment so that we wouldn't share the bathroom after my chemotherapy treatment.

Overcoming challenges with resources, faith, and love

My ex-fiancé's continued absence added to our challenges, leading to more behavioral issues for my son at school as he started first grade in September. As his teacher explained, my son would roam around, leave his assignments unfinished, destroy crayons, and more. I began to show up unannounced at school a few times so he would understand how important it was for him to behave well. More importantly, we talked, prayed, and, yes, he lost some privileges as well. When he got a referral at school, I got really extra in that moment, and he got it together quickly after that.

We talked a lot about how we can only control and focus on ourselves. Due to my son's curiosity, I had a friend record my chemo session so that he could see the process of accessing my port and administering the medication.

Despite his lingering response to the absence of his ‘dad,’ a year later, he emerged in a much better place.

Throughout this journey, the power of explanation and communication became clear. Using kid-friendly videos from YouTube and books from breast cancer organizations like Bright Spot, I tried to make the process understandable for my son.

In February 2024, facing the reality of estrogen-positive breast cancer, I opted for another surgery to remove my ovaries. The pain surpassed the breast surgery, but with my day nurse's support, I got through the discomfort, as I was always mindful of my ultimate "why" – to live without the threat of cancer.

Reflecting on the journey, my son and I have emerged stronger together as we have bonded in shared communication and experiences. We even ordered some breast cancer socks that we both wear and have matching bracelets. He will wear nothing else pink!

Why is it better for children of all ages if you tell them you have breast cancer?

Learn why kids need to know and how you can tell kids about breast cancer here.