At 26, I vainly stood naked in front of the mirror admiring my swollen belly. My hands massaged my skin, wishing they could feel a little leg or an arm, but I was only 4 months pregnant, so that would have to wait a little longer. As I put on my maternity bra, I saw something strange -- deformed -- in the mirror: a lump in my right breast.

This was not my first child; Alexis was already 5, so I knew not to panic, it was probably a milk duct preparing for the birth. I decided to wait until the next visit with our midwife to bring it up; I did not want to cause my family to worry needlessly.

I could not help touching it or looking at it. In the morning I would wonder, is it still there? Has it grown? Believe it or not, I was not much more concerned than that, I was just curious...although I suddenly noticed every type of media (magazines, television, books, etc.) that had anything to do with... CANCER. There! I said it.

That is about how it hit me, before seeing a doctor, when I finally added a Woman's Day Magazine to my groceries simply because it had a cancer survival story. All of a sudden, I wanted -- needed -- to know everything about my breasts, and anyone else that was willing to share their story.

When I next met with my midwife, Chari (have you ever noticed how possessive people are about their midwives?), I was told to see my doctor immediately.

At that time, I have to be honest, I wasn't just seeing Chari. I was also seeing an OB/GYN, Dr. Koch. Now, don't worry, they were both aware and, for my particular pregnancies, in approval of each other's existence.

Dr. Koch, throughout the remainder of my pregnancy, monitored the lump. Together we decided to leave it alone until after the baby was born. Maybe it would go away.

Five months later, Venice was easily born. (Why was it easy? Read up on the Bradley method of birthing.) Her first two hours of life were spent nursing. She latched on and never let go! While she nursed, the lump was visible and I remembered something I had read: Nursing is believed to have a slowing effect on cancer growth. Venice may well save my life, I thought.

Within two months, I was ushered to the surgeon. This is where the rest of my story begins.

The question most asked by the surgeon was how long I planned to breastfeed. Repeatedly, I said I would nurse Venice until she finished, unless he needed me to stop. He said I would be fine, and agreed that if it was cancer, it may actually be very good that I was a nursing mother.

The lumpectomy revealed that I had two different kinds of tumors growing in my breast, but, by the Grace of God, they were NOT CANCEROUS! I went home and continued life, and nursing, as usual -- for about a week. Suddenly, my breast became extremely swollen and painful. I would see the surgeon each week for a month to tell him I was concerned about the way it was healing. It just didn't look right. He assured me, as did my midwife, that it was normal. It would look a little different.

I was not reassured. I went to Dr. Koch, a month and a week after the surgery, and told her how I felt. She listened and agreed with the others, but she said if I did not feel better, to call her. Two days later, a Friday, I called to make an appointment. She was booked, but she told me to meet her in the office on Saturday.

Milk ducts were severed during surgery, I discovered. The milk was coming in, but only a small amount was coming out. Instead of coming out through the nipple, milk was emptying into the space where the tumors were. She inserted a needle to see what was inside -- two 40cc vials filled with milk from inside my breast. And I had an infection.

A week later, the surgeon felt I needed to stop breastfeeding. I called Dr. Koch and cried. How could I stop now? I had been through so much. There had to be a way.

Dr. Koch reasoned the cut milk ducts would eventually stop producing (law of supply and demand), and that she thought I may be able to continue. I also contacted La Leche League and a San Francisco center for breast care. Neither source had similar situations or solutions I could use.

Another month passed by and the incision wasn't healing because the milk was leaking out of it. I was trying to cope with the fact I would have to stop breastfeeding. I didn't have much of a choice, but I was depressed. I knew I should quit, but I couldn't do it.

One day, Dr. Koch called to tell me she read about a tribe in South Africa that used only their left breast for feedings because it was bad luck to use the right side. Milk would let down on both sides, but after continued non-use of the one side, it would stop producing milk.

I knew in my heart that this was the answer. I quickly weaned her from the bad side and after a month (a long and weepy month), my milk was mostly dried up in that breast. It would only take one more month before my incision would be completely healed.

I nursed Venice until she turned 2, and my third child, Kaydance, is now 10 months old and happily nursing from only the left side (I tried -- God was good to heal my milk ducts, but I believe He forgot to reconnect them!). I will nurse her until she is finished.

When people hear my story, they tell me I should supplement or that I should not take such chances. I either tell them how much my extremely healthy and well-nourished baby weighs, or I tell them that mothers with twins and triplets have no problem nursing, why should I?