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Showing Up in the Hardest Seasons

Surviving Breast Cancer
2 days ago
3 min read

By Sierra Hendren

Content warning: death and dying

Just days before my graduation, my family was celebrating what we believed would be one of the happiest moments of our lives.

After two years of hard work, sacrifice, sleepless nights, clinical rotations, and balancing motherhood alongside school, I was preparing to graduate with honors and a 4.0 GPA from the Cardiovascular Sonography program at Caldwell Community College and Technical Institute. My pinning ceremony was scheduled for May 5, 2026, followed by graduation on May 8.

But behind that celebration was a story much deeper than academic achievement.

Just two months into my sonography program, my mother was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer while she was already battling sarcoidosis. Overnight, our lives became filled with doctor appointments, treatments, hospital visits, and the emotional weight of watching someone you love fight for their life.

Recently, we received the devastating news that the cancer had spread to her brain.

As her only daughter, I stepped into the role of caregiver while continuing my education, raising my two young children, and trying to hold my family together through one of the hardest seasons of our lives.

Still, through every setback and every heartbreaking moment, my mother kept fighting — because she wanted to see me graduate. And somehow, despite everything, she made it there.

But on the drive to my pinning ceremony, my mother suddenly lost her vision completely.

What should have been one of the proudest days of our lives instantly became filled with fear and uncertainty. The woman who had fought so hard to be there could not even see the moment she had been holding on for.

Over the following days, her condition worsened rapidly. Her memory began fading in and out, confusion increased, and our family suddenly found ourselves discussing palliative and hospice care instead of simply celebrating graduation.

One moment, we were taking graduation photos together. The next, we were preparing ourselves for the possibility of losing her.

Then everything changed again.

Just recently, we rushed my mother to the emergency room because her oxygen saturation had dropped to 74% and her feeding tube needed to be evaluated. Around 2:00 AM, we were told she would be admitted and reassured that it would be okay for us to go home and rest.

Then at 3:57 AM, I received a phone call from the ER doctor that completely shattered me. He explained that my mother’s lungs were failing and could no longer support her body. He told me I had two choices: To allow her to pass naturally, which he explained would happen very quickly in the condition she was in. Or to make the decision to place her into a medically induced coma and put her on a ventilator, knowing there was a very real possibility she may never wake up from it.

No daughter should ever have to make a decision like that for her mother. She is now in the ICU fighting for her life.

We went from trying to celebrate my graduation… to fighting for more time with my mom almost overnight.

At the same time, my nine-year-old son, who is globally developmentally delayed, has also been overcoming challenges of his own. Despite everything happening around him, he pushed through academically this year, began making A/B Honor Roll, and is now approaching grade level — something we are unbelievably proud of.

My son and my mother share an incredibly special bond. They have been together nearly every single day since the day he was born, and years ago, he was actually the one who helped her discover the first lump in her breast when she first battled breast cancer.

This story is about so much more than graduation. It is about caregiving. Motherhood. Family. Faith. Resilience. Heartbreak. Hope. And what it truly means to continue showing up for the people you love even when your world feels like it is falling apart.