I am standing beside Sarah Anne's bed in the Paediatric Intensive Care Unit. It's all a little surreal. My tiny baby girl is in bed four by the window. Machines are humming and beeping. There are four other children, their families, and numerous staff. There is a constant buzz of activity. One of the nurses comes and stands beside me and puts her arm on my left shoulder. My immediate thought is, "That's a little bit familiar, I don't really know you." But I don't move away. I notice that the social worker has come to the foot of the bed. I glance at them but then look back to Sarah Anne, lying there quietly. Dr. Litz comes and stands at the other side of the bed. She clears her throat and she looks to the floor as she says, "Well there is no easy way to say this but we are fairly certain that your baby has cancer. We will know tomorrow when the test results are back. I am very sorry. We will do everything possible." I am stunned. Cancer had not crossed my radar. I had not even thought it for one moment. I looked at my six-week-old daughter and my eyes started to leak. I took a deep breath and responded quietly to the doctor, "No, doctor. You will do everything reasonable, not everything possible." Her head whipped up quickly and she looked relieved as she replied with a half smile, "We will get through this." I have a flash of understanding-this is why the nurse and social worker are here-to help me as I hear this difficult news. We all speak for a few moments and then I decide to go for a walk. I need time. Time to sort out what I have just been told. Time to digest what is happening. My little baby has cancer Anne Van Donkersgoed lives in Prince Edward Island, Canada, with her husband, Ed, and their three girls. www.yearofthebabies.com