There was a nurse at the Atlanta hospital where Chloe was born who encouraged me with the news that my body was producing extra red blood cells to boost my energy and immune system. This is nature's gift, something to get new mothers through the sleepless days and nights.

While I knew that the baby would need to eat every two hours, I didn't know that you would wake to the crying, spend 20 minutes breast feeding her, 10 minutes burping her and another 20 minutes trying to get back to sleep. All this to say I'm really waking up every hour all day and night. In the morning, it's literally a balancing act.

I lift Will out of bed and half carry him to the bath. Then I grab Chloe under one arm and wrap the other around Will's waist and help everyone upstairs to the main living quarters. I know Will is nervous I will drop him and he would fall head long down the hard wood stairs, but I told him I had the strength of two people these days. I imagined those women who find super powers to lift cars off trapped children. That is me.

We are staying at my friend, Adele's home in Hermosa Beach, California. She has a small apartment set up downstairs where we have a living area, bedroom and bath. Chloe's in a borrowed bassinet. There's no way to hang a mobile over it so we tied a mobile to a brick which sits on a side table with the dancing flowers draping over her bassinet.

We all have breakfast in the morning and then one of our friends or my Mom comes to babysit Chloe while I take Will to Chemo. I won't see her until the evenings, but I take my breast pump in its backpack with me. There is nothing more lonely or humbling than pumping breast milk in the bathroom at a cancer treatment center.