long six months of chemo were when I truly saw how incredibly remarkable my wonderful daughters are. They seemed to know it all before I did. They were more prepared for my hair falling out than I was, and cheerfully told me that it would be fun to see what I would look like bald. The first few sessions of chemo were extremely tiring, and I would find myself torn between utter exhaustion or wild restlessness. Each of my daughters seemed to find her way of being there for me. Mia was brilliant at distracting me with stories from school and acting like there was absolutely nothing strange about having a bald, weird-acting mum. Gracie has inherited the mothering instinct and seemed to know when I needed a cup of tea, a bite to eat, or just have a cuddle. Together, they were such a powerful force that gave me the strength to get through those ghastly months positively and often with a great deal of humour. They took the opportunity to encourage me to have fun with wigs -- and not always natural looking ones! I wore red, orange and even a purple wigs, not to mention the wild leopard print scarves and wacky eyelashes. When you are totally bald, it's very very scary. But my girls never once made me feel I was ugly or sick and continually told me I was the most beautiful mummy in the world. I had been a model back in the 1980s,