Despite her own health battles, Mum moved in to help.
By then, she seemed so frail.
"She looks like both of you," she smiled. It meant so much that she got to meet Aurora.
Five weeks later, Mum, 63, passed away and we were heartbroken.
"She'd want you to keep fighting," you encouraged me.
When I was drained from chemo, you took up the slack with Rory while still working.
The Breast Cancer Network Australia (BCNA) and our loved ones helped where they could, cooking, babysitting, doing housework and sending care packages.
It meant I could focus on being the best wife and mum in the time I had left.
To give back to those who helped us, I raffled Mum's art work to raise funds for BCNA. So far I've collected over $35,000.
I also began sharing my story to start a conversation about death.
It's inevitable for us all, and since it's happening to me right now, I want to use my voice.
"I want a big party instead of a wake," I told you when we discussed my funeral.
I wanted Aurora to know all about me, so I created a memorabilia box with my school prefect badges, my beret from when I trained as an army officer, pictures from my student days, and awards and certificates I'd earned.
I also bought her a charm bracelet.
For every birthday until Aurora turns 21, inspiring women in my life will give her a charm on my behalf.
I've added notes with them so she and you can sense my presence once I'm gone.
"She'll love that," you said.
As for you, my darling, I know you're going to be the best dad ever, and keep my memory alive.
Now, Aurora has just started walking and talking and I'm so grateful for the time I've had with her.
In my chemo breaks, we've travelled around the world, making precious memories. I want you both to remember how much I love you.
To donate or learn more, visit the Breast Cancer Network Australia at bcna.org.au