All Glory to God — From BI-RADS 4B to Benign and Breathing

I don’t even know where to begin except here:

All glory to God.

Because today, I got the call—the kind of call that makes your whole body go still—and my biopsy results came back benign. No cancer.

And the relief?

It’s overwhelming in a way I don’t think you can understand unless you’ve sat in that waiting space… where time slows down, your mind goes places you don’t want it to go, and every “what if” feels just a little too real.

Let me tell you how serious this felt

This wasn’t a “just in case” situation.

This was a BI-RADS 4B.

If you don’t know what that means, I didn’t either at first. But I learned real quick—it means moderate suspicion of cancer. Not low. Not “we’re just being cautious.” It’s serious enough that they say, “We need to biopsy this.”

So I did.

They took three samples. Ultrasound-guided. Clinical. Quiet. Professional. And still… terrifying.

And then came the waiting.

The kind of waiting that changes you

You keep functioning. You still show up. You still take care of your responsibilities. You still get your child to school, answer emails, make dinner, take care of the house…

But underneath all of that?

You’re holding your breath.

Because there’s a version of your life that could be about to change forever.

And for me, that weight was heavier than most.

Because my mom… my mom died at 51 from cancer.

And I am her age.

So this wasn’t abstract. This wasn’t hypothetical. This was personal. Deeply personal.

And then… the moment

I pulled over to read the results.

Just pulled over. Couldn’t even wait.

And Adelyn—my sweet girl, my future daughter—was right there.

And she looked at me and said,

“God answered my prayer from last night.”

I don’t even know how to explain what that felt like.

It wasn’t just relief.

It wasn’t just joy.

It was something deeper.

It was peace.

What this means moving forward

It means I get to keep going.

I get to move forward with my life—fully.

With work. With school. With everything I’ve been building.

And most importantly…

I get to move forward with this foster-to-adopt journey, if that’s where it leads.

No planning for surgeries.

No pausing life.

No stepping away from the future I’ve been working so hard to create.

Just forward.

If you’re reading this—please hear me

Go get your mammogram.

Go to the appointment.

If they tell you to get the biopsy—GO.

I know it’s scary. I know it sounds terrifying. I know the words alone can make your stomach drop.

But a BI-RADS 4B is not a sentence.

Today proved that.

And catching something early—or ruling it out—can change everything.

Tonight

Tonight, we celebrate.

Not with anything fancy. Not with anything over the top.

Just… gratitude.

Me and my future daughter are going to church.

Because there is no place I’d rather be after a day like this than sitting in that quiet, sacred space, saying thank you.

Final thoughts

To everyone who prayed for me, checked on me, stood with me—thank you. Truly. You carried me through something you may not have even realized the depth of.

And to anyone walking through a scare like this right now:

Hold on.

You are not alone.

You are seen.

And there is still hope.

All glory to God. Always. 💛

Standing on Faith in the Middle of a Storm

Tuesday will mark one month since I officially became a single mom.

Thirty days of packed lunches, school mornings, homework, eye appointments, laughter, a few tears, and the beautiful chaos that comes with welcoming an eleven-year-old into your life. It has also been thirty days of realizing that the life I dreamed about building is actually happening right in front of me.

Our little household—me, my rescue dog Pippin Took, my rescue cat Finnian Elijah, and my incredible foster daughter—has settled into a rhythm here in our cozy two-bedroom, two-bath home in Great Falls. Church activities, school events, camps coming up this summer, and the normal day-to-day busyness of life have filled our calendar in the best possible way.

It’s a full life. A happy life.

And in the middle of all that goodness, life threw one of those “wait and see” moments my way.

This Tuesday I’ll be having a breast biopsy.

If you know me, you know I believe strongly in doing the responsible things when it comes to health. Self-exams. Mammograms. Following up when the letter says something needs a closer look. I hadn’t had a mammogram since 2021, so when this one came back with a question mark, the next step was simply to check it out.

The good news is there are a lot of encouraging signs going into this biopsy.  

No symptoms.  

No discharge.  

No pain.  

Healthy tissue otherwise.

The only reason for the biopsy is that one small area appears irregularly shaped on the imaging. And interestingly enough, I started my cycle the very next day after the exam, which can sometimes affect breast tissue. So right now we are simply in that space where we don’t know until we know.

Just to be safe, I also have an appointment scheduled with a breast surgeon afterward to review the results and talk about next steps—whatever they may be.

But here’s the thing.

I’m standing firmly on faith.

No matter what the results say, I will deal with it. And if the path ahead includes treatment or surgery, then my future daughter will also get to witness something important: what it looks like for a woman to face hard things with courage, honesty, and strength.

Our bodies change. Life throws curveballs. And part of being a woman is learning to care for ourselves, pay attention to our health, and follow through when something needs to be checked.

That’s why self-exams matter.  

That’s why yearly mammograms matter.  

That’s why follow-ups matter.

If my journey reminds even one woman to schedule that appointment she’s been putting off, then something good will come from it already.

So if you’re reading this, I would be grateful for your prayers.

Prayers for Tuesday’s biopsy.  

Prayers for clear and healthy results.  

Prayers for all the women right now who are sitting in waiting rooms or opening letters with that same knot in their stomach.

And prayers for the little girl in my home who is learning what strength, faith, and perseverance look like in real life.

Because despite the uncertainty, life here is beautiful.

We’re busy.  

We’re laughing.  

We’re planning summer camps.  

We’re going to church potlucks.  

We’re building a future together one ordinary day at a time.

And apparently, I may be one of the only people in Montana actually looking forward to the storm that’s rolling in.

Sometimes a good storm reminds you just how strong your foundation really is.

With gratitude, faith, and a very full heart.  

— Samara