Layla was 3 1/2 when she was diagnosed with Neuroblastoma. She was our first baby. She was fine one day, couldn't walk with out crying the next. From that first Dr/er trip, we were airlifted to St. Joseph's in Phoenix. That weekend is a blur. I couldn't even pronounce Neuroblastoma. She was admitted Thursday night, and had her first surgery on Sunday morning to remove her tumor. In one weekend we heard "your daughter has cancer" , and "she has a 60% chance of survival" She went on to endure 3 years of chemotherapy, more surgeries, and radiation, a brief "remission" (though I hate that word now), relapses, more surgery, radiation almost made it into a clinical trial. After we moved our family from AZ to CA to try and save her, we were told she didn't "fit" into the parameters for the trial. They sent us home on hospise, and she died 2 weeks later at home. She was amazing for 3 years. She impressed everyone she came across with her maturity. She sparkeled always, and didn't let cancer get in the way of her fashion sense, or her sass. When she died our kids were 4, 2 and 6 months. We talk about her all the time. My youngest daughter is SO much like Layla, and talks about her sister like she remembers everything. I think she has her memories. My second daughter has stepped up as big sister, and has done amazing. My son , and only boy , is such a brother! Our family still suffers. I still succeed , and fail as a mom. I still misplace my anger, but we are all still here. I love telling people all about Layla. I get sad, but I'm also so proud that I'm her mom. Nobody else gets to say that.