Hi everyone,

I've spent a long time deciding how to share this... here it goes. Since 2023, I have been living with metastatic breast cancer.

My journey began with a persistent pain in my ribs and spine that didn't feel right. After a series of scans at Memorial Sloan Kettering, I received the news that my cancer had returned and spread to my bones. The grief and shock put me in the hospital.

I remember lying in bed that first night, feeling like an endless pit opened up underneath me. When the oncologist walked in, I didn't ask about chemo or scans. I asked, "Can I still be a mom?"

The answer she gave me was a cold "No." It felt like a second heartbreak, deeper than the cancer itself. Desperately, I sought out another opinion. A second oncologist called me with a different answer: "Yes, Drew. You have a tiny window. If you want to do this, we do it now."

In the fall of 2023, before the start of my cancer treatments, I underwent an IVF cycle. Despite it making me incredibly ill, we were able to successfully retrieve a high number of eggs. We were so excited. That moment represented a hopeful future I wasn't ready to give up on.

I know that when people hear "Stage 4," they often assume it is the end. I thought that, too. Up until a few months ago, I made peace with it. But I want to share something educational and hopeful: I am not terminal. I have a subtype called "Triple-Positive" breast cancer. While it is metastatic, it is also one of the most treatable forms of the disease. Because my cancer is "bone only," it is often slow-moving and highly manageable. My doctors now view my diagnosis more like a chronic condition—one that requires top-of-the-line, lifelong treatment, but one that allows me to truly live! I have my bad days, surgeries, treatment changes, and deep exhaustion, but I am responding beautifully to medicine. I am living, I am working, I am happy and I am planning for a very long future!

My husband Eric has been my hero (that doesn't even feel like a strong enough word). Through every surgery and every tear, he has never wavered. He took care of me on my worst days, choosing to push this Sisyphean boulder up the hill with me. He is an incredible partner but would make an even more incredible Dad. We both work with children, and every day at school, we see the magic of a child's joy and creativity. We daydream about the day our own children will run down the hallway to meet us at the end of a school day.

Because of my ongoing treatments, I don't have the option to carry my own child. However, we have our eggs and a clear path forward: Gestational Surrogacy. As many of you may know, the surrogacy process is incredibly beautiful but also financially overwhelming. It involves agency fees, legal costs, medical expenses for a surrogate, and intensive fertility treatments. It wasn't the easiest decision to be public about this diagnosis as it can be easily misunderstood. It was even more challenging to realize I can't tackle this alone. I wish I didn't have to ask for help but I never thought I'd be in this position. We are reaching out to ask for your support in helping us with this journey.

With your help we can get closer to bringing home a baby that will be the center of our universe. We know they will be so deeply loved, cherished, and hopefully artsy!!

Thank you for reading, for your love, compassion, and a sign for us to never stop believing in miracles.