Breast Cancer Walk

I hate cancer. I mean I know everyone hates it, but i really hate it. 

This Saturday the family went on a breast cancer walk. It was just a little 3 mile walk around tempe town lake. Nothing big, long, or strenuous, but still significant.  It was fun to see the numerous "survivor" shirts, and to see all the different types of people that this ugly thing called cancer brought together. We waked with four breast cancer survivors. All four women were in our stake. However....

I have a very good friend. She had breast cancer. 

When I was 15 I met this amazingly beautiful, talented, fun, cute, young married mom of one boy who was pregnant with her second baby. She and her husband had just recently moved to Arizona and were attending my same ward. I loved everything about this family. I thought my new found friend was the nicest person in the world and the cutest dresser. It wasn't long after she moved into the ward that she discovered she had breast cancer. 

Breast cancer is terrible. Brest cancer in your early 20's even worse. Breast cancer in your early 20's while pregnant... unimaginable. 

My dad was the Bishop at the time and was notified of her diagnoses. I totally remember the phone call as if it happened last week. We were walking around scottsdale mall and after he hung the phone up and told us the news, we were all sick and devastated. So we went to see's candy to buy her some chocolate (because what else does one do?). 

A few weeks, maybe months later we had a ward fast. It is one of the very first times I can honestly admit I gave a true, earnest fast. I remember pleading, and begging for everything to be ok with my friend and her unborn baby. I remember all the ward members that came together at the church that night and met in the relief society room. I remember us all kneeling down to break the fast together as a ward family. I even remember some of the words my dad spoke in the prayer.

 I also remember being too scared to hug my friend because i didn't want her to see me crying. I wanted to be strong for her, but of course she hunt me down and gave me a big hug and we shed a few tears together. She was the strong one, always. 

I remember the first time I held her precious newborn son. He was taken by C section a few weeks early, so she could begin her treatments. It was instant love. I knew he was a true miracle baby. 

I also remember the days, weeks, months, and years of chemo, radiation, double mastectomy, more chemo, more radiation, and then an exciting and joyful reconstructive surgery. 

My friend is not just my friend, but also my hero. She is someone i look up to with such love and admiration. She is a person of strength, courage, and unwavering faith. She is amazing, and someone I wish to be like. She is why I go on cancer walks. And she is why I gained a testimony of my own on the truthfulness of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints at the age of 16. She is a survivor. 

Save the lactation station (only appropriate for this breast fed cutie) 

Up bright and early at 6:30 to meet up with everyone

The family 

I never notice how big my baby is until I see other people holding him. Preston will be Amanda size by his first birthday.... no doubt.