I Underwent Genetic Testing to Help My Son, and Discovered I Have an Increased Risk of Breast Cancer
What if my son, the boy who has puzzled everyone, has helped to save my life?
What if I have an allergic reaction while flying over the Atlantic and my throat closes up on the plane?
variant of unknown significance
What if it’s too late? What if cancer cells are already hiding in my breasts or ovaries?
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Not knowing happens to all mothers, and to all of us—if we are breathing, we are without escape from things we can’t know.
I’m not just advocating for a child whose challenges don’t follow a script. I’m also a black mother advocating for my black son in a room full of people who don’t look like us.
More in this series
Kids are all mystery, and mine are no different, but the unknown has especially marked my son.
As a mother, I’ve had to ask myself: What would never getting an answer, or even no longer expecting an answer, look like?
How many days had we spent asking the same questions of God or doctors? How long had we wrestled with conditions that didn’t yet exist?