“In sickness and in health…”

In October, 2007, I was a freshman in high school. I was probably sitting at my desk doing my homework. My mom came into my room and sat on my bed. She patted the space next to her, beckoning me to come sit beside her. She told me that she had breast cancer. I don’t remember the conversation or if I understood what that entailed, but I do remember the after effects. 

Due to our family history with breast cancer, my mom decided to have a double mastectomy. She had both of her breasts removed. Due to the stage of her cancer, she also underwent chemotherapy. My mom was very, very sick. It was really hard as a young teenager to watch my mom suffer. Every time she came back from a round of chemo, I remember her sitting in her recliner chair moaning in pain. All of her hair fell out from the toxicity of the treatment. 

While I was growing up, my sisters and I also took art lessons at Lakeshore School of Fine Arts where we learned to paint and draw with high quality materials. It was my thing first. I started taking lessons and painting when I was 5 years old. My sister then also showed an interest, so my parents let her take lessons too. My youngest sister also took lessons for a while! We had taken lessons there for so long that the art teacher, PJ, was like family to us. 

One night after art class, my dad came to pick us up and take us home. He talked to PJ for a bit while my sister and I cleaned up. PJ asked my dad how mom was doing. “She’s doing alright,” he told her. Then PJ looked him in the eye and said, “How are YOU doing?”    

My dad is a short Mexican man, but very intimidating looking. He always had big muscles and tattoos. He was the type of dad that boys knew to steer clear of unless they wanted to meet my dad’s machete! Never in my life had I seen my dad cry. That night when PJ asked him “How are YOU doing?” he lost it. My dad broke down crying. I remember PJ hugging my dad as he sobbed. That moment and after my abuelita died were the only two times in my life I ever saw him cry. 

Fast forward to October 29th, 2016, I met the love of my life. Nick and I met during a very dark period in both of our lives. Looking back at all that had happened, I don’t think it was an accident that we met. It is amazing to look back and see how God orchestrated the events that led us to each other. 

When we saw each other, it was literally love at first sight. I introduced myself to him. “Hi, my name is Jessica.” He responded, “Hi, I’m Nick.” He looked at me with those beautiful eyes, and I was smitten. Somehow, I just knew, and he did too.

We officially became a couple in December. By May, we were engaged. I needed to finish graduate school, so our engagement lasted about a year and half. On June 2nd, 2018, Nick and I were finally married! It was such a beautiful day, and one of the happiest moments in our lives. 

During the ceremony, we both wrote our own vows, but also recited the traditional wedding vows- “for better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness and health until death do us part.” We had no idea what lay ahead for us, but we were ready to face whatever life threw at us together. 

We decided to wait to try to have a family until after I finished my music therapy internship. Well, we at least waited until close to the end of my internship. We started trying in December of 2019. I finished my internship in January, 2020. We continued to try. I got my first “big girl” music therapy job, and we packed up and moved out of state. Still no baby. We moved twice in one year. Still no baby. We waited and waited.   

In April of 2023, I had a period that was so heavy that I should have gone to the emergency room. We suspected that we had a miscarriage. After trying for so long, this was devastating. For the next two years, I continued to have really heavy periods. I was so sick, and there was so much blood every time. I knew something was wrong. 

In May of 2025, I learned that I have endometrial cancer. This was a big shock to both of us. We fully expected at some point in my life that I would have cancer. My grandmother had breast cancer twice. My aunt had breast cancer twice. My mother had breast cancer once and had a double mastectomy to prevent a second occurrence. We fully expected me to have breast cancer in my 40’s. We did not expect me to have uterine cancer in my 30’s! 

Since learning I have cancer, I had 3 surgeries in the same year. I have gone through CT scans, MRIs, and lab work. I have had so many phone calls and doctors appointments. During my surgery in July 2025, I had an IUD inserted to target the cancer with progesterone. The IUD caused severe cramping that I am still dealing with. 

Nick has been with me for the majority of my appointments and for all of my surgeries. He has been there to hold my hand and walk through the scary and painful moments. He has been picking up multiple side hustles and working hard to take care of me. I can see the helplessness in his face when I am in pain from the IUD. I know my cancer has been hard on him too. 

I’ve heard it said that cancer can either make a marriage or break a marriage. In our case, it has made us stronger and brought us closer together. I am the one who has cancer, but WE are going through cancer. Cancer doesn’t just affect the one who has it. It affects loved ones as well. At the time this blog post is published, Nick and I will be coming up on our 8 year wedding anniversary. I thought this was a good time to give Nick the opportunity to express his thoughts and experience with cancer. 

I asked Nick if he would be willing to share his side of the story, and he agreed. I wrote out some questions and sent them to him to answer. Then I waited… and waited… and waited… As we began to approach our anniversary, I told him, “Hey, now would be a good time to answer those questions. I think it would be fitting to share the husband’s perspective for our anniversary.” He finally looked at the questions. “These are really personal. I don’t think I can do it.” 

At first, I was frustrated, and Nick and I had several conversations at length. I didn’t think they were difficult questions to answer. They were general “What was your experience like?” type questions. I also pointed out to him, “I have cancer. Yeah, the questions are going to be personal!”

Nick and I are so close. It’s cliche, but I fall more and more in love with him all the time. But sometimes, I feel like I learn the most and we grow closest through our disagreements. Nick is very reserved. He is the last one to express an opinion, much less his emotions. The only time I ever saw him cry was when his dad passed away. 

During the COVID pandemic of 2020, Nick and I were living in Michigan. On April 30th, my mother-in-law called him at 4 am. She told him his dad was having a heart attack. We jumped up out of bed in a panic. My in-laws lived about 6 hours away in Illinois. We weren’t sure what to do. Nick wanted to go to Illinois to be with his family. A few minutes later, Nick got a call from his brother. “Okay, he said. We’ll be there soon.” Then he dropped his phone on the floor and said “Dad died.” He then dropped to his knees and started to cry. After I comforted my husband, I called my mom to ask her to watch my cat and guinea pigs, and we packed up and left for Illinois to be with family. 

After I got my cancer diagnosis five years later, Nick was clearly having a hard time, but he tried to hide it from me. Hiding his distress was not easy. About a week after getting the diagnosis, I was in the process of sharing what I could with my clients. I was finishing up a session on Thursday night and talking to a parent. Then, I looked at my work phone and saw I missed a call from Nick. He knows only to call me on that phone if there is a true emergency, so I knew something was wrong. 

I got back to my car and called him. Nick was doing physical therapy for an injury he had on his leg. While using the treadmill, the physical therapist noticed his heart rate had skyrocketed. The physical therapist had him stop, sit down, and offered to call an ambulance for him. I called Nick, and when he answered the phone, he said, “So, I think I almost had a heart attack.” It was clear that Nick was overwhelmed and stressed. 

I know he’s still stressed. He’s overwhelmed. He’s heartbroken seeing me in pain and having to go through so many procedures. But he doesn’t show it. He holds my hand through everything. He buys me ice cream when my cramps get bad and makes sure I’m comfortable. He cracks jokes to cheer me up. But I know he’s hurting. 

Though he did not answer my questions for a Q&A format blog post, he did share some thoughts and feelings with me. He did give me permission to share:  

“It’s hard for me to let my feelings exist. Dad never really showed any and I was never taught how to properly let myself feel outwardly. Like, when dad died I think I cried maybe once or twice, and honestly I kind of hate myself for that. So when we found out about the cancer I think I just doubled down and just really started suppressing everything. If I’m honest, I really don’t care about myself right now. It might be why I’m always so quick to buy you ice cream so you feel better. I think I’m also just starting to feel lost or forgotten about. I get a lot of questions about how you’re doing, or I listen to other people’s problems, and I don’t really get asked about how I’m doing. It just kind of reinforces how I feel in my head I guess. I know I’m not okay….. I don’t know how to fix this or even if I want to right now, at least until the cancer is figured out…”

My heart breaks for Nick. I am his wife. He should be able to express how he’s feeling with me. But, because of generational and societal norms, he never learned to cry. I see this as a common occurrence among men, at least in my experience. My husband doesn’t cry. My father-in-law didn’t cry. My dad doesn’t cry. At least not until they reach a breaking point. 

As a wife going through cancer, I admire Nick’s brave face during the times I need him most, like when I am being poked and prodded with another needle or having a painful biopsy! But, there is also so much grief in having cancer. I don’t just want the brave face. I need him to sit and cry with me too. I need someone to grieve with. I need someone to share in my feelings with me. I don’t want to feel alone. 

Cancer affects more than just the person who has it. Dear husbands of wives with cancer, your feelings are valid. You matter. Yes, your wife has cancer. But YOUR wife has cancer. Yes, be brave and strong for her. At the same time, we’re not looking for a hero. As much as you want to, you can’t fix this. But you can support us by being there. Nick has let me cry on his shoulder. I want to be a shoulder for him to cry on too. 

Dear society, let’s do better. Let’s teach our young men that crying is okay and a necessary part of being human. I hate that my husband grew up in a world that says “men don’t cry.” He was taught to hold his feelings in. Men often hear phrases like, “Don’t be a cry-baby,” “Don’t be such a girl,” or “Toughen up.” But now my husband is hurting and doesn’t know how to care for his own needs. Even my dad, with his tough muscles and tattoos, was hurting. He too didn’t know how to cry until he reached his breaking point. 

Husbands need support too. Nick needs hugs. He needs prayer. He needs people to not just ask “How is Jess doing?” He needs a PJ in his life to ask, “How are YOU doing?” and then hold him while he cries. Nick, my sweet, sweet husband, you are valid, and your feelings are valid. I hope you know how loved you are. It’s okay to cry and grieve. 

As of June 2nd, we’ve made it to 8 years of marriage. We’ve had our ups and downs. Cancer has probably been one of the worst things to have gone through. But we are coming out on the other side stronger than ever before. I can’t imagine going through this journey with anyone else. I am the most blessed girl in the world to have the best and most caring husband. But our journey is not over. The struggle and heartache continues as we start to pursue fertility treatment. We don’t know what lies ahead for year 8, but I am looking forward to finding out with Nick by my side.   

I’d like to invite you to join in on our journey alongside Nick and I. In most states, insurance companies are not required to cover fertility treatment. Our next part of our journey will have to be paid for out of pocket! A round of IVF for example can cost $15,000 to $20,000! Thankfully, my sweet sister-in-law started a GoFundMe campaign for us to help with medical bills and fertility treatments. Follow me on social media and check out future blog posts as I share my story. Breast cancer seems to get all the attention in the media. But not all cancer is pink! My aim is to share my story and bring awareness beyond the pink ribbon.