Betrayed By My Breasts -- Part II

I needed to find someone else like me.  Not just any other survivor, I specifically searched for other breastfeeding counselors or lactation consultants, who survived breast cancer.

I felt there was something special, and ironic, about being a breastfeeding counselor and having breast cancer.

Surely, someone who spends so much of her time talking about breasts, and handling breasts, must have a particularly hard time dealing with breast cancer.

I worried about my ability to continue counseling breastfeeding mothers.  Would I be able to provide the same level of support?  Should I resign, as a La Leche League leader, from our local organization?

I was not ready to close off that part of my life.

I spoke with other leaders from my area.  They encouraged me to listen to my heart, and embraced me when I chose to stay.

Today, I still sit on our area council and assist in our local district.  I also continue to counsel mothers by phone and in person.

Other leaders, who know me, know that I have breast cancer.  I do not share that information with the mothers I help.

I never did find another breastfeeding counselor with whom to share my experiences.

That need passed.


Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Betrayed By My Breasts

I breastfed all my babies.  You don't even want to know for how long. 

Once, in the locker room, a woman criticized me for bringing my little boy in to change, accusing him of staring at her breasts.

I was polite, of course, but I did point out that as a breastfeeding mother, with many breastfeeding friends, my son saw breasts all the time.  To him, breasts were for feeding babies.  That this woman thought a six year old boy would be looking at breasts in a sexual way is just sad.

"Breast" is not a "bad word" in our home.  Even after I stopped nursing my kids, I volunteered as a breastfeeding counselor.  (I still do, though I am far less active than I once was.)

I talked about breasts ALL the time.

So, when I learned that I had breast cancer, I felt betrayed by my body.

Breastfeeding lowers the incidence of breast cancer, both in mothers and their babies.  I breastfed ALL my babies, for a LONG time.  How could my breasts betray me like this??

My breasts were a source of life.  My children lived on breast milk alone for anywhere between 6 months to a year (depending on the kid).  Even after my kids started eating solids, breast milk was their primary source of nutrition.  Later, it was a valuable supplement for them.  When they were breastfeeding, my children almost never got sick.  Breast milk was the elixir of life!

How could my breasts turn from a source of life to a threat of death??

How could they contain cancer???

I did not know how to look at my body anymore.

My body had betrayed me.

My breasts had betrayed me.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Two Days, One Night -- La Leche League Leaders Retreat

Three years ago, when I was first diagnosed, I had to decide whether to have a lumpectomy, a mastectomy or a double mastectomy. Given the cancer and my medical background, a purely clinical recommendation would be to have a double mastectomy and get rid of all future risk (little did they know...).

But, since the decision was not a purely scientific one, and emotions were also a factor, I was told that I needed to figure out how important my breasts were to me.

Up until that moment, I was.... um.... well.... rather attached to my breasts.

In addition to everything else that women with breast cancer experience, I was a La Leche League (LLL) leader. I talked about breasts and breastfeeding ALL the time.

So, half a year later, after I had lost my breast (reconstruction notwithstanding), and could no longer lactate on that side, I was faced with a decision: Did I want to continue my work as a LLL leader?

For a few weeks, I deliberated. How would I feel talking to mothers about breastfeeding? How could I offer support after facing such a devastating loss? Maybe my time would be better spent volunteering somewhere else? Maybe I should volunteer with an organization that helps breast cancer survivors? Maybe it was time to "retire," or at least take a "leave of absence" from LLL.

But, the more I thought about leaving LLL, the sadder I felt.

First of all, I firmly believe that everyone should do their part to make the world a better place. I am not one of those supermoms who can make supper for mothers who just had a baby or who are sick and need help. (God knows, I can barely get dinner ready for my own family!) But I can help mothers who want to nurse.

Moreover, I LOVE being part of LLL in Israel. Though leaders come from all over the political and religious spectrum, we all share many of the same fundamental values of mothering. With other leaders, I can freely discuss how long I nursed my children, or at what age they stopped crawling into my bed at night to cuddle (you don't want to know).

I love being in a room full of women who all believe in "family first," whose children are a pleasure (not a nuisance), who believe that a mother should be "responsive" and "attentive" (and that does not mean our children are "manipulating" us), who believe that children need their mothers (and that need is a real need, that does not go away as the child grows). The environment is nurturing and warm and caring and loving. And, though we don't always agree, we communicate with respect and consideration.

I am not a perfect parent. I often fail to live up to the standards of a LLL leader. (I don't post those stories). But, when I close my eyes, and imagine the family that I want, the picture would definitely fit into any LLL album.

So, I chose to stay. I still take phone calls. I still meet with mothers. I still run groups (though our group in Homat Shmuel is currently dormant). I still sit on the Israel Area Council. I do less than I did "before." Nevertheless, I am still an active leader.

------------------------------------

I just spent two wonderful days (and one night) at our annual LLL leaders' retreat.

We had workshops about communication, and sessions about leaders' responsibilities, and a fascinating lecture about immunology and mother's milk (We learned all about the development of a baby's immune system, and that giving a baby "just one bottle of formula" has a significant impact).

I led the getting-to-know-you games at the start of the conference. It was a lot of fun and I received a lot of positive feedback.

I also ran the evening activity, which was nice, but not nearly as successful. I am not discouraged. I already have ideas about how to make it better next year.

I learned a lot, laughed a lot, and received lots of love.

How could I give this up?



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA