Whats your husbands name?
Oh, hes not my husband, I stammered.
More like a boyfriend.
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Actually, exactly like a boyfriend.
I took a deep breath.
All I could remember was that he hated it.
How about birth date?
Confidence restored, I smiled.
I was 90 percent sure I had it right.
My relationship with Adam was only one month old.
Even fresher was my recentcancer diagnosis.
Heres the thing about getting life-altering medical news at age 30: Everything moves lightning fast.
Adam and I had met just three months earlier, literally by accident.
After a fender bender left me with whiplash, I went to physiotherapy.
I had no idea where things between us might go.
Still, with our witty banter and obvious chemistry, I wanted to see him again.
Ourfirst date, at a local pub, was simple but memorable, our shamelessflirtingthe stuff of rom-coms.
We ordered burgers and beers, got tipsy, and made out on the sidewalk.
I felt happy in a way I hadnt in a long time.
Soon we were spending almost every night together.
We talked about our families, our worries, things wed never told anyone else.
Then came my last day of journalism school.
Cancer?I was too young for cancer.
I was fita vegetarian, even!
How could I be so sick when I felt, and looked, perfectly healthy?
What would I tell my family?
And then there was Adam.
I envisioned the headline:Boy meets girl.
It sounds naive to say that after one month Adam and I were in love.
And telling people who love you that you have cancer is excruciating.
I had no way to know which side of the stats Id fall on.
So I gave Adam an out.
But he didnt leave; instead, days after my diagnosis, he moved in.
The fertility clinic was on the checklist, but kids were the last thing on my mind.
Making babies was one of those hazy, distant goals, like buying a house or going on safari.
I had a vague sense it would happen, but I was in no rush.
It seemed impulsive to have this conversation over the phone.
But the cancer would forge ahead while we took time to mull things over.
As I relayed my options to Adam, I reiterated that I didnt have to use his sperm.
The mere mention of procreation could have sent him running.
But he didnt miss a beat.
Lets do this, he said.
Only later, when I thought about what we had agreed to, did the worry really set in.
What right did I have to create life when I wasnt sure what would happen to mine?
Was it selfish of me to accept his spermto ask for it?
Did he say yes out of love, or guilt, or both?
What if we broke upwould those embryos haunt him into his next relationship?
In many ways the decision sped up every aspect of ourrelationship.
Once I started treatment, he sat beside me for hours as the chemo drugs snaked into my veins.
He was at times more pragmatic than patient as I struggled with the realities of my diagnosis.
And Id stay up late googling upsetting survival statistics, then be irritable with him the next day.
Yet there were moments of levity, too.
We laughed hysterically when he tried on my wig.
Cancer be damned: That summer we went out, danced, and drank good beer on off-chemo weeks.
It was these things that created our foundation.
Cancer stripped away everything else so we could fall in lovefully and completely.
It was a gorgeous winter day, and wed unknowingly bought each other the same greeting card.
I wondered if cancer had found a way to beat us after all.
On our third embryo transfer, the negative result still gutted me.
That something else was my sister.
Concerned with protecting our relationship and her health, I hesitated, but she was insistent.
Its your turn to be a mom, she said.
Nonetheless, surrogacy wasnt easy.
While we celebrated our impending parenthood, my sister dealt with all-day sickness.
At the same time I mourned the loss of my own ability to conceive.
But when I nestled my daughters tiny body moments after her birth, I became a mother.
And nothingincluding cancercould take that away.
Today I am 13 years past my diagnosis and still deeply in love with my husband.
But I see other differences between the before-cancer and after-cancer versions of me, too.
Before Me was afraid of little and wouldnt let anyone alter her course.
Watch: The Realities of Breast Cancer Treatment that Nobody Talks About
