As we near the end of Respect Life month, this story jumps out as especially timely:

My son is not a hugger. He’s almost 2 years old, and I can count on one hand the times he’s squeezed his chubby arms around my neck (they all involve my husband running the vacuum). I’m okay with this because on the rare occasion when I do get a hug, I get very emotional. I imagine most moms experience these my-heart-might-burst moments when a seconds-long embrace makes them feel like the luckiest person in the world. But for me, it’s a little different. A little sweeter. And I am a lot luckier. 

See, I wasn’t supposed to have a baby. I’m a cancer patient. Seven years ago I was diagnosed with chronic myelogenous leukemia (CML), a slow-moving form of blood cancer. I’m in remission, thanks to a medication I take every day that states right smack on the bottle: Do not get pregnant while taking this drug. But I did. Then I stopped my lifesaving medication and endured nine long months of what-ifs: What if the brief exposure to the drug affects the baby? What if my cancer comes back? What if I leave my child motherless? I took a big risk, but it paid off even bigger. Now I want to do it again.

 You’ll want to read the rest…