My daughter looked glum as she pushed her roast chicken dinner around her plate.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" I asked.
It was the third time that week Cherish-Rose, 11, had left her dinner untouched.
"I'm not hungry," she mumbled, refusing to meet my eye. I sighed.
Where was my happy girl with the healthy appetite?
Lately, she'd lost a fair bit of weight around her face and limbs, but had developed a little pot belly.
She'd been acting really strangely, too.
Normally, she was a super energetic kid, singing and dancing to Lady Gaga around the living room.
But now, when she got home from school, she'd go straight to her room and flop onto her bed.
Her once-bright, bubbly mood had changed completely.
She was lethargic and still had no interest in food.
After researching online, I feared she'd developed some sort of eating disorder, like anorexia.
Surely she's too young, I thought, hoping desperately I was right.
In a panic, I booked her in to see a psychologist, but there was a lengthy waiting period.
What was I going to do? If this was something serious, I couldn't afford to hold off.
One day, I sat her down on the lounge and gently broached the subject.
"I've noticed you're not eating, honey," I said. "Please tell me what's going on, so I can help you."
She told me she'd a broken tooth which hurt whenever she tried to chew.
So I took her to the dentist and sure enough, there was a new tooth coming through. I breathed a sigh of relief.
He said it was nothing to worry about and would feel better soon. But days later, Cherish-Rose still refused to eat.
One night, she complained of feeling nauseous so I let her climb into bed with me.
A few hours later, I woke to her sobbing.
"My belly! My back!" she shrieked.
I pulled up her shirt to see her tummy was hugely swollen. It had to be more than just a bit of bloating. Whatever was happening was serious; I just knew it.
Next morning, I took her straight to the doctor for tests.
"We've found a 10kg growth in Cherish-Rose's stomach," he said. "She needs to go straight to emergency."
Ten kilos? No wonder she looked pregnant!
My mind whirled with terrifying possibilities as I drove her to the hospital.
Cherish-Rose went straight in for a CT scan.
Then two doctors led me into a private room.
"The growth in Cherish-Rose's stomach is a tumour," one said. "It's a symptom of a cancer on her ovaries."
As I tried to take in his words, I felt like I was floating above my body.
It couldn't be true. Surely 11-year-old girls didn't get ovarian cancer. She was far too young!
A wave of nausea hit me and I doubled over as my body heaved with sobs.
Cherish-Rose would need to be flown to Brisbane immediately to start treatment.
They'd try to shrink the tumour with chemo before it could be removed.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but I had to pull myself together.
In Brisbane, Cherish-Rose was hooked up to a chemotherapy machine.
As I saw her distraught little face, it took every ounce of my strength not to pull all the tubes off her.
The oncologist explained that her condition was a germ cell cancer.
"It's one of the most treatable forms, especially when it's found early," he said. "We're going to save your little girl."
I felt as though someone had opened a window and the light was flooding back into my body.
Cherish-Rose still has a difficult road ahead of her.
She'll have to go through at least six months of chemo, as well as surgery to remove the tumour and one of her ovaries.
Thankfully, there's a good chance she'll still be able to have children when she's older.
For now, she's just 39kg and still has the protruding belly, but I'm starting to see glimpses of the old Cherish-Rose again.
"I want to get a bright, pink wig!" she said, when I told her she'd lose her long, thick hair during chemo.
She has the selflessness and bravery of a warrior, too. She wants to save her pocket money to buy the other kids on her ward sock puppets.
The last few months have been such an emotional roller-coaster for our family but our local community have been fantastic by donating to our Gofundme page, which a family member set up to help us pay for the hospital bills.
Cherish-Rose's room is full of get-well cards from strangers – she even got a note and flowers from one her idols, Bindi Irwin!
'I hope you feel better soon,' Bindi wrote. 'Stay strong.'
Her big life dream is to become a singer, dancer and actor, and I can't wait to see my beautiful angel go from the hospital bed to the big stage some day.