Lindsey was 36 weeks pregnant when she felt a burning lump in her breast. Her OB-GYN dismissed it as mastitis and prescribed antibiotics. But Lindsey trusted her instincts and pushed for an ultrasound. That decision saved her life.
The scan revealed something far worse than a clogged duct. Doctors suspected cancer and urged her to deliver early so treatment could begin. At 37 weeks, Lindsey gave birth to her daughter, Savannah—but the delivery nearly cost her life. She hemorrhaged, her baby’s heart rate dropped, and an emergency C-section loomed. Lindsey refused, knowing surgery would delay chemo. She delivered naturally, barely holding on.
A week later, the PET scan confirmed her fears: stage 4 breast cancer. It had spread to her liver. She was 29, a mother of two, and given six months to live.
But Lindsey didn’t crumble. She began chemotherapy immediately. Her husband, Spencer, stepped away from work to care for their daughters. He stayed up every night with Savannah so Lindsey could rest. She lost her hair, her strength, and the ability to breastfeed—but not her resolve.
She recorded videos and wrote letters for her daughters, preparing for the possibility she wouldn’t survive. One moment stands out: sitting with her toddler, Saylor, trying to explain heaven. “I’ll miss you,” Saylor whispered. Lindsey hugged her tight, heart breaking.
Then came a miracle. Halfway through treatment, scans showed her tumors were shrinking. By the end of chemo, they were gone. A lumpectomy and lymph node removal confirmed it: no trace of cancer. Her doctors were stunned.
Today, Lindsey is in remission. She still undergoes immunotherapy and regular scans, knowing the cancer is incurable. But she’s present. She’s watching her daughters grow. She’s living every moment with gratitude.
“I never stop believing I’ll be one of those miracles,” she says.
