LENNIE’S DISCOVERY
Amy Louise Palmer, 34, from Devon, never expected that breastfeeding her little boy would save her life... My boy spotted it first!
Lifting up my baby boy to my chest, I nuzzled him into my right breast. ‘Are you hungry?’ I cooed to Lennie, then six months old. When me and my hubby Colin, now 40, found out I was pregnant with Lennie back in 2018, we couldn’t wait to be a family of four.
My first-born, Frankie, then two, was so excited and would always ask me when his little brother was going to arrive.
So, when the day finally came and I brought Lennie home from the hospital, our family felt complete.
With Colin going back to work shortly after, I soon settled into motherhood once again – from breastfeeding to changing nappies.
Only, one day, watching Lennie’s happy face as I fed him, my attention got drawn away when I felt something on my breast.
Lennie had nudged against a lump and when he moved away, I saw it protruding out.
How strange... I thought.
I knew a couple of people who developed mastitis, an inflammation of the breast tissue, when they were breastfeeding, so immediately my mind jumped to that.
I’ll go to the doctors at some point, I thought.
Except, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, so showed the lump to Colin that evening.
‘You need to get that checked out tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I don’t think that’s normal.’
Reluctantly, the next morning, I dragged myself to the local GP.
‘I think it’s mastitis,’ the doctor said. ‘But I’m going to refer you to the breast care unit at Torbay Hospital for a biopsy, just in case.’
Not wanting to waste time worrying about it, I got on with my routine.
Throwing my long hair up into a bun, I cracked on – cleaning the house, playing with the boys and breastfeeding Lennie.
Except, every time I brought him up to my chest, I noticed the lump and had a niggling thought in my mind. What if it’s serious? A couple of weeks later, the hospital rang – they had the results of my biopsy and wanted me to come in.
Hearing their serious tone on the line, I immediately knew it wasn’t going to be good news.
With my thoughts racing that night, I hardly slept a wink.
And the next morning, in March 2019, Colin came with me to Torbay while my parents, Chrissie and David, looked after the kids. ‘I’m afraid it’s more serious that we thought,’ the consultant said. ‘You have breast cancer.’
Turning to Colin, I watched as he burst into tears, and my mind immediately turned to my boys.
It was as if the whole world stopped in that moment – I knew my life would never be the same.
‘We’re confident we can treat it,’ the doctor reassured me. ‘You’ll have a lumpectomy, six rounds of chemotherapy, and 18 rounds of radiotherapy.’
Knowing I had a
I spotted it while feeding my boy
treatment plan, my mother’s instincts kicked in and my brain immediately went into full-blown planning mode.
‘We’ll get through it together,’ Colin reassured me.
Thank God I noticed it that morning I was breastfeeding, I
thought. Who knows what could have happened if I had decided to leave it any longer...
‘Mummy has to have big medicine that will make her poorly,’ we told Frankie that evening, his doe eyes widening. ‘But not for long, don’t worry.’
We never mentioned the big C word – we didn’t want to scare him by hearing horror stories at school.
Lennie was still too young at the time to understand – as long as he could still get his milk, nothing else mattered to him.
Luckily, mine and Colin’s parents, Jackie and Iain, helped to look after Frankie and Lennie, and my friends all did everything they could to help, too, even delivering meals to my door.
I felt so grateful to have an amazing support system around me.
Three weeks later, my treatment finally started.
In preparation for losing my hair, I cut my tresses into a short bob to ease the transition.
I knew the chemo would make
me poorly, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how ill I would be – it was worse than anything I’d ever experienced before.
My body felt like lead and I felt sick to my stomach.
Brushing my hair in the mirror one evening, I sobbed as I watched clumps fall out.
‘I think it’s time to shave my head,’ I cried to Colin while in bed that evening.
So, the next morning, Frankie watched as I took the razor to my beautiful locks.
‘Wow Mummy!’ he said in awe, seeing the mountain of hair that was going to be donated to charity.
Only, losing my hair completely knocked my confidence – I didn’t know who I was without it.
I wore headscarves and bought wigs to cover it up, but inside, I couldn’t wait for it to grow back.
The next few months were a blur – I was in and out of hospital constantly for treatment.
I spent my days at home in bed, hardly being able to move because of the exhaustion.
On days when I felt able to get up, I would drag myself to sit on a bench and watch Lennie and Frankie play with their grandparents in the park.
Although I was grateful, my mum guilt kicked in and I wished I could be the one pushing my boys on the playground swings. Lennie was getting older by the second and was constantly babbling away.
He even said his first word in the summer but the whole memory feels like a blur.
I felt like I was missing out on everything, and although we had cuddles in bed, I felt like I couldn’t be there fully for my boys. During the treatment, Colin would come in from a long day of work and immediately run up the stairs, greeting me with a big hug.
And, finally, in December 2019, I had my final course of treatment.
‘You’ve done it!’ Colin cheered. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
It felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders.
I was still going to go for regular check-ups, but I could finally get back to normal.
Every mundane moment with the kids, like doing the school-run, pushing Lennie on the swings, and doing puzzles, felt like gold dust.
Sitting down one afternoon, I created a bucket list.
‘I’ve always wanted to run a full marathon,’ I said to Colin, grabbing a pen. ‘And my ultimate dream would be to take the kids to Disneyland, too.’
Last summer, me, Colin, Frankie and Lennie all went to stay in a treehouse and ticked it off the list, something that I’d dreamed of since I was little.
It was incredible – we felt like a regular family again.
Only, in May 2022, my life came crashing down.
Struggling to breathe one morning, I headed back to my GP immediately.
I was worried that it could be something serious.
And, being rushed up to Torbay Hospital, my instincts were proved right.
‘You had a nodule on your lung which might have caused your breathing difficulties,’ they said. ‘But that’s not our main concern – you have breast cancer again – although it’s not the same one that’s come back.’
In that moment, my whole world crumbled apart.
How could this be happening yet again?
Coming home that evening, Colin and I decided to break the news to the boys.
‘Remember when Mummy was poorly?’ I asked them. ‘I’m going to be poorly again for a little while.’
Me being in and out of hospital had become the normal for them.
But this time, I didn’t have to lose my luscious locks – I was going to have a cold cap.
Frankie, now seven, even cut off 12 inches of his own surfer-dude hair for the Little Princess Trust, helping to raise £1,000 for charity.
Lennie is five and has started school now – he’s so cheeky and always smiling.
We always joke that before he could even speak, he saved Mummy’s life.
After another six rounds of chemotherapy, my
Lennie really did save my life
surgery finally took place on 14 November 2022.
I had a double mastectomy with reconstruction, too.
Although it was a big decision, I knew it would be worth it.
In the next couple of years, I’m hoping to tick some more things off my bucket list and go to Disneyland. It’s one of my biggest dreams on my bucket list and I know my boys will have the most magical time.
And after everything they’ve been through, I want to give them something special to look forward to.
Every day I wake up, I’m grateful to spend another day with my wonderful family and I treasure every moment with my boys.
I truly couldn’t have got through it without them.
I want to encourage everyone to go and get their breasts checked, even if they feel only the slightest bit of concern.
It could really make a whole world of difference.
To find out more, please visit: coppafeel.org
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