Sara’s Journey

Sara Weingartner is a breast cancer survivor and nationally- known
Minnesota artist currently providing artwork for Angel Foundation,
(www.MnAngel.org) a nonprofit supporting those touched by cancer.
View Sara’s work at www.creativesouldesign.com

Life seemed so perfect in December of 2002. Daughter Claire was about to turn one, married life was sweet, and all was well in my world. All that changed when, at age 30, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had come down with the flu on New Years, and while trying to nap and breastfeed Claire and I felt something. My milk supply was low because I was severely dehydrated (a blessing in disguise because that’s the only way I would have found the lump). I thought, “plugged milk duct?” and tried to massage it out. At the urging of my family, I scheduled an appointment, had a biopsy, and on a cold January 10th, 2003 a frightening new chapter of life began.

Nothing made sense. I tried to figure out where it came from, what I did, how it happened because I was only 30 and doing everything “right.” I cried when I breastfed my daughter for one last time, telling her everything would be ok. Claire did okay with weaning, but this loss was hard. I didn’t want this choice to be stolen from me.
 
The subsequent weeks were filled with heavy interviewing of surgeons and oncologists, getting examined and questioning processes and treatments. Getting pregnant again (and breastfeeding) was on the forefront of my mind. Oncologists didn’t want to talk about future pregnancy, and I was hit hard with reality when one oncologist told me flat out that I “might not survive. “
 
I elected a lumpectomy which was scheduled two days after my daughter’s first birthday. Nervousness filled my entire body and I cried as they sedated me and wheeled me into surgery. My husband was terrified. Surgery took longer than expected because my sentinal node biopsy was positive in the first node, so they had to remove all the other nodes. My final diagnosis was Stage 2, grade 3. I awoke to discover compression garments on my legs, was hooked up to circulators, groggy and, in pain, with a lymph drainage tube coming out of my chest. What a stark contrast to the joy I felt a year prior when I was in the hospital giving birth.
 
Chemo and an intense treatment started soon after I recovered from surgery; it was a very difficult and exhausting regimen. When it ended, I was sad not to see the medical and support staff regularly after my treatments had ceased; they made all the difference to me. I don’t think I really processed what had happened until my treatments were over and I had quiet time. I wasn’t receiving the constant support from doctors or family and that was really hard. I suffered from depression. I became very angry, then very sad for about three or four months I just wanted life to be back to “normal,” like all of my friends’ lives seemed. I sought help through a counselor and support groups, practiced meditation, journaling, and reorganized my life so I could paint more. This became a HUGE healing outlet or me. I even entered a contest through Amoena, and my art became a pin that was distributed nationally. It was printed with a poem that reads:
 
I dream. I hope. I embrace. I am alive.
I celebrate for every day
and every night.
I embrace love and life,
the good and the bad.
I live with hope.
I will never stop dreaming.
I am happy to be alive!
 
I also attended breast cancer conferences and participated in their art shows. Those were empowering. I felt energized with being a racer in the Race for the Cure, wearing my pink hat, and gaining another ribbon for survival each year. Now, I want to help women, especially young women--make them aware. I am a survivor, and don’t mind if the world knows it.
 
Three and a half years later, I still have the strong desire to have another baby. Medical professionals don’t know if there are risks involved with pregnancy after breast cancer, especially with my ER-positive status. Looking back, I think what still saddens me most is that I missed Claire’s second year of life. I couldn’t be a mom or a wife that year, and I will never get that time back. I certainly wish I didn’t have the cancer, but I would never change the insight I gained from it:
 
That I am very blessed. That life changes when I least expect, and I can’t stop change, just learn to accept it. That my husband has more strength than I never knew. That my daughter is the best gift life could’ve given me. That family’s love is unconditional. That little acts of kindness really do mean something. That people are amazing and will help even if they don’t know me. That sharing a little hope goes a long way. That I need to appreciate more and trivialize less. That my strength comes from a positive attitude, but also in honoring ALL of my feelings, especially sadness and anger. That life will end some day, so I don’t want to take my family and life for granted. That I still have dreams, and even though my vision has been altered, they are still real. That I was kept on this earth to make a difference.

And, so my “revised” journey continues...

Press contact:
Sara J. Weingartner  
Creative Soul Design  
Ph 612-822-1499  
fx 612-605-0069  
sara@creativesouldesign.com  
www.creativesouldesign.com