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‘Chemo would make my breast milk toxic to my son. Cancer had already robbed me of the pure joy of a new baby. I was not about to sit back and let it take away breastfeeding my son.’

“Here we were newlyweds of just 4 months, with 4 children together, one of whom was just a week old. The only option I had was to find a family member or friend who would be willing to latch Malcolm to their breast once a week so he would remember how to do it if and when the time came for me to try.”

‘I hid my habits. On the way to visit my boyfriend, I’d down a burger in my car, hide the evidence, then go to dinner a few hours later like a proper lady. Salad only, please.’

“When I moved, all the women looked like movie stars. Blonde with bountiful boobs, thin waists, and faces full of makeup. I went for a haircut and told the stylist I felt so out of place; I’d never be able to compete with these women. He stopped his snipping just long enough to say, ‘Sure you will. If you’re willing to pay enough.’”

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