“My body will never look like this again.”

I said that to myself numerous times leading up to my single mastectomy on October 17th. To try and preserve the moment, I attempted (and failed) to photograph myself in that “Insta-worthy” pose, capturing the female form while maintaining some level of modesty. But it’s hard to photograph yourself when you can’t look through the viewfinder. Not to mention that portrait photography is definitely not my niche.

So instead, I ended up with several crap snapshots and a couple these-will-do’s around 11 pm the night before surgery, only adding to the frustrations and other emotions of that evening.

My pre-mastectomy photo from 2018. Not the best picture, but the best I could come up with the night before with the stress of the last couple weeks.

One Year Later…

“My body will never look like this again.”

A year after my mastectomy, and I find myself chanting these words all over.

In late spring I decided I was not only having reconstructive surgery on Lefty, but I would prophylactically remove Righty and reconstruct her in the process. If all goes well, I’ll have two new foobs come mid-November; if not, I’ll be forever flat, but taking some measure of solace in how easily I can use bras to smuggle snacks into the movie theater.

I didn’t want a repeat of October 16, 2018. I didn’t want to look back on November 11, 2019, with that same lens of frustration and mourning after failing to photographically capture a season of my life.

Not to mention, October 17th is my anniversary. The scans after my mastectomy were clear, and I was officially dubbed No Evidence of Disease (NED). And that, my friends, is cause for celebration! As a gift to myself, I contacted a professional photographer for a boudoir session.

Previously, I had told myself I would maybe someday do a boudoir once I lost the pudge and my hair was a certain length and my tan was perfect and my blemishes were under control… Maybe…

But that’s hardly how it worked out. That pudge will become my new foobs. My hair is a hot mess of short and curly post-chemo growth. I have multiple tan lines from enjoying summer outdoors while protecting my radiated skin. And my scars and blemishes are the main focus of this whole photoshoot.

Celebrating Life

I contacted Coley & Co. Photography and explained the sort of photos I wanted – a celebration of still being alive, while also showing the reality of breast cancer with its mastectomy and radiation scars. Jaclyn responded with an emphatic “YES!” She was completely onboard with the idea.

The session wasn’t nearly as intimidating as I thought it would be. Jaclyn was incredibly easy to talk to and work with, which of course helps tremendously when you’re running around a photography studio topless.

Afterward, I eagerly awaited the email from her saying the photos were ready to view…. And I wasn’t disappointed.

In those photos, I saw a young woman who had been slashed, poisoned, and burned in an effort to save her life. I saw a body that had undergone months of treatment and side effects – nausea, bone pain, fatigue, a major surgery, and raw skin – but was still active, capable, and healing. I saw a smile that conveyed peace with this new, unexpected path in life. And I saw eyes that shone with hope and a love of life despite having her plans ripped away and trampled on.

One of my favorite shots from the photo shoot with Jaclyn. Photo courtesy of Coley & Co. Photography in Columbus, Ohio.

Moving Forward

This last year has been hard in so many ways, a blur of medical appointments, side effects, and the ups and downs as test results come back. Even more devastating, it’s been a year of learning to let go, having patience with myself for “doing nothing” during the fatigue and healing, and focusing on the present rather than constantly planning for a future that’s so uncertain.

Jaclyn had captured not only what I hoped to convey to others, but also what I wanted to capture about this current season in my life. These pictures will remind me that I’m a work in progress, both physically and emotionally, and that inner peace can still exist amidst the devastation.

In less than a month I’ll have another major surgery. More healing, a new normal, another adjustment period figuring out which bras and shirts work with my foobs. I’ll have at least three new scars to add to my collection. And perhaps a year from now I’ll have another boudoir session, another celebration of life and how far I’ve come.

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