How did I find it? How did I know? Getting a Breast Cancer Diagnosis

On Christmas day 2025, I felt a bit off and decided to take a pregnancy test. To my delight, it was positive and we were so happy to share the news with the family.

Having just recovered from an advanced miscarriage a few months earlier, it was such a blessing to be able to be excited about what the new year would hold for us now.

Once the Doctor's were back online after the holidays, we excitedly went in to get everything set up, all the tests done etc. During the appointment I mentioned that I had a couple of lumps in my left breast. Having just finished breastfeeding my 2 year old a month or two earlier, both the GP and I decided it was most likely just clogged ducts.

But as I was going to need a dating scan (ultrasound of baby) at 12 weeks anyway, the GP decided to book in a breast ultrasound too, just to rule out anything more sinister.

I was sick.

There's no doubt about that.

But whether or not I was sick from cancer or from some version of sick from being pregnant or having a miscarriage for 12 months straight, I guess we'll never know.

In between the GP appointment and the scans, I could feel the lumps growing. The anxiety crept in to my bed with me at night. I tried to ignore it. But I think I knew and it was like my toddler certainly knew, giving it a good kick or shove every chance he got.

The combination of feeling like how the hell could something like that happen to me, I'm healthy, young (ish), don't smoke or take drugs, nearly broke myself staying committed to breastfeeding for 2 years (supposedly a breast cancer risk reducer)

vs.

Yeh it would totally make sense if I had this, I'm absolutely exhausted and have been for years, I'm unhappy, I have a drink almost every evening, I have a tonne of un-healed emotional 'trauma', I'm so stressed from work, I've not done enough exercise/weights..

..meant I wasn't really surprised when I eventually found out.

The day before the baby scan, I started to bleed. Another miscarriage. This time much earlier at 8 weeks, but absolutely heartbreaking nonetheless. A quick visit to the GP and it was decided the ultrasound the next day would be to confirm there was no heartbeat.

Having experienced the absolute hell of a hospital managed miscarriage last time (it's own story for another day) I decided to let it pass naturally, kept calm and carried on.

Just down the hall, within seconds of the breast ultrasound it was clear things were bad. The radiologist's face, the extended scan, the frantic typing on the computer.

It's truly hard to remember what happened from there. This is partly why I've started this blog. So much has happened, so quickly, since then, it's all becoming a big blur.

But the part I remember was walking into the GP's office, 4:45pm on Friday the 30th of January. His face was sorrow, pity, fear. He said it slowly, the scans and bloods tests and biopsy had confirmed it was breast cancer. A large and most invasive, breast cancer.

As I had already come to terms with this as a potential 'pathway in the woods' I took the news pretty solemn and took the GP aback with my reaction and very first question;

'How does this affect my ability to have another baby?'

I remember him saying some things about IVF options, intending to be comforting, before he took control of the situation and took us through what was going on.

The breast cancer is what they call 'triple positive'. I'm going to make a quick disclaimer here that I in no way a trained medical professional and cannot be held liable for any nonsense that I spew out on here. But anyway, I'm going to do my best to explain it.

This type of breast cancer is apparently something I should be grateful for, a so-called 'silver lining' (although I'd rather just not be in the situation in the first place) and that is because it's what they call 'very treatable' aka there's drugs that work well against it.

I won't get into the weeds but what's important to know is that there are different receptors on the cancer, my estrogen and progesterone were 95%+ positive and then there's also this thing called HER2+, which is the thing that makes it all really bad.

HER2+ breast cancers are extremely aggressive and until recently, were considered a death sentence. I've been told, this is an immediate and urgent threat to my mortality.

And so started the conveyor belt of tests, scans and appointments. The cavalier approach I took to work thinking I'd be online around things, quickly went the other way.

As a guess I would say,

Hundreds of needles. Many on top of each other each day.

Way too much radiation than should be allowed in ultrasounds, MRI's, PET scans.

3-5 appointments each day. All over Sydney. Deep emotional drainage.

That's all before the cost, already in the tens of thousands. A lot of it unrecoverable.

The heartbreak of finding babysitting again or not able to have my Husband with me. Sitting alone again with something horrible in me, on me, or happening to me.

I'll go more into the IVF side of it in another post, as well as the deeply confusing and overwhelming natural vs. conventional (allopathic) tension that's playing a huge role.

But for now, that's it. That's how I found out. That's how I got the diagnosis.

It's a question that has been asked of me a lot this last week. Mostly by women, often in the same way, a mixture or sympathy and fear, often a want to know for their own sake.

The truth is that I'm not sure it will help. Yes, I felt a lump (or lumps actually x 3). But they grew so quickly and I was showing none of the signs that ChatGPT or any Hollywood movie I've seen would confirm as symptoms to look out for. Those lumps could have been anything and at 37, my first routine mammogram was years off. So, take from it what you will but one thing is true; this is a truly horrendous place to be.

I know I promised humour but this one just came out solemn. That's just how it is. But there has been laughter, and love, and I look forward to tapping into that more soon.

Until next time,

Em