By: Laura Thompson
Updated: Dec. 20, 2015
Originally Published: Jan. 5, 2013
As I served dinner to my son, he shot me his trademark glare and exclaimed, “Mom! It’s touching!” He can’t stand it when his food mingles on his plate. Everything must have its own separate space, as if life and its culinary joys should be arranged in perfect Bento boxes, where ketchup never touches the salad. But that’s not how life works; sometimes, the ketchup will spill onto the salad. “Deal with it,” I snapped a bit too quickly. “You can’t always keep things apart.” And honestly, that’s true not just for dinner but for life as well.
In the past week, it felt like everything collided: the chaotic, the uncomfortable, and the beautiful. Life’s metaphorical ketchup splashed all over my salad. Our entire family gathered to celebrate the Jewish New Year. My daughter lost her first tooth. I marked my 37th birthday, and we finally named our baby in Hebrew, just days before she turned eight months old. Amidst all these joyous occasions, I found myself waiting, waiting for the phone call that would add an asterisk to my happiness: What if?
Two weeks ago, I had my first baseline mammogram. By typical standards, I have no risk factors for breast cancer. I’m 37, have no family history of the disease, and I don’t smoke. However, I do possess two important risk factors: I have breasts—two to be exact. The truth is, if you have breasts, there’s always some level of risk.
The doctors assured me that the spot on my mammogram appeared “friendly,” but they admitted they had no scientific basis for their optimism. They couldn’t locate it during the ultrasound for further examination. The consensus was to wait and see, to return in six months for a follow-up. But I couldn’t bear the uncertainty for that long. After six days of anxiety, I’d consumed my weight in fries as a stress relief. I needed more clarity for my own peace of mind.
For me, clarity meant undergoing a stereotactic biopsy. So, just before the Jewish New Year and my birthday celebrations, I found myself lying on a table with a hole cut out for my right breast. The procedure lasted around 90 minutes, and afterwards, my breast felt like it had been hit by a truck. Then, the waiting began.
This waiting, filled with uncertainty, gave me ample time to reflect on how, in my 37 years, I had never taken the time to check my own breasts. A quick self-exam would take no more than a minute, yet I always found an excuse: rushing through the shower, finishing an email, or preparing meals. I prioritized everything else above my health.
This morning, as I pulled into the preschool parking lot, I watched adorable children in colorful rain gear making their way inside. Ladybugs, dinosaurs, butterflies, and firemen—each child bundled up to stay dry and safe. I glanced at the mothers accompanying them, most looking like a hot mess: drenched, with babies in tow, flip-flops on their feet, and no raincoats in sight. It struck me—at what point did we decide to prioritize our children’s needs over our own? Why do we often neglect self-care in the name of motherhood?
It’s time we change this narrative. Women regularly receive messages about prioritizing their health for their families, but the truth is, women need to prioritize their own well-being because they matter. Not as mothers, partners, or daughters, but simply because they deserve to care for themselves.
As I embark on my 37th year, I hope you’ll indulge me with a few belated birthday wishes:
- Conduct a breast exam today. It doesn’t have to be perfect; just look for any changes. Mammograms usually start at 40, but a lot can happen before then, and problems can escalate quickly. The best defense is to check yourself regularly.
- Set reminders for these exams. There are useful apps like Keep a Breast and Your Man Reminder that can help track your breast health.
- If you’re 40 or older, ensure your mammogram is scheduled. If you’re under 40, discuss the possibility of a baseline mammogram with your doctor.
- Consider donating to breast cancer research. I’m contributing here, but many great organizations need support. Give what you can.
- Share this message with anyone you know with breasts. Remind them that prioritizing their health is essential simply because they matter.
As for me? After an agonizing six days of waiting, I finally received a call from my doctor yesterday—just a lymph node, nothing serious. I’ll return in six months for a follow-up. I don’t feel like I dodged a bullet; I feel like I’ve gained new insight. I’m filled with love, hope, and even a small titanium clip marking the spot of the doctors’ work. I’m now literally marked, but we all are in some way.
So, take charge of your health today. You matter. Grab a boob, don’t be one.
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In summary, prioritize your health and well-being, because you are important—just as you are.
Keyphrase: Women’s Health Awareness
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]