For young women diagnosed with cancer, the disease is more than life-altering, it also sometimes dashes all hopes and dreams they might have had for the perfect marriage, the perfect career and the perfect foray into motherhood. It might seem impossible to have children after cancer, since treatment often seriously compromises a woman's chance at conceiving, but all hope's not lost. For instance, Hodgkin's survivors can get pregnant, according to a study, and women who've undergone chemo can freeze their eggs for fertilization.

And now it's being shown that a drug developed in Australia can give new hope to wannabe mothers. It works by shielding the ovaries from harmful cancer treatments by temporarily shutting them down, so to speak. The drug's been impressing doctors around the world, and honestly, I can't wait to see it hit the market and offer some salvation for young women from the horror that is cancer.

A few days ago, my two little boys ended up with itchy, bumpy rashes on their necks, backs, and chests. "Mommy, I'm itchy," they'd declare while scratching at their tender skin in search of relief. I did all I could to soothe my bothered boys. I lightly scratched their skin, soaked them in cool tubs of water, offered them Benadryl, and taught them how to gently pat their skin and not dig at it. Eventually, the itches went away -- thanks to the passage of time. And eventually, I learned that sunscreen was likely to blame for their skin irritations.

My boys are four and six. Slowly over the years, I have abandoned baby sunscreens and have lathered them with the same sunscreens I use -- the potions made for adult skin. They didn't seem like babies anymore so it seemed an appropriate transition. Most times, their skin fared well. This time, it did not.

While at my skin cancer screening appointment the other day, my dermatologist gave me something to think about. She told me the primary ingredients in sunscreen for children should be zinc or titanium oxide -- found primarily in baby sunscreen products. So no more grown-up lotions for my boys. I am now the proud owner of New! Banana Boat Baby SPF 50 UVA & UVB sunblock lotion. It's tear-free, sting-free, as mild as water, and reportedly waterproof too -- although some experts maintain waterproof is not really possible in the world of sunscreen. Water resistant, maybe; waterproof, no. Most important, though, is one of the active ingredients in my new tube of protective lotion: Titanium Dioxide.

Cancer stopped me from having a third child -- not physically, but mentally. Still, it hasn't taken away my ability to witness first-hand the miracle of childbirth, to hold a brand new baby in my arms, to lose myself in the wonder of an innocent and unburdened life.

Yesterday, my sister had her second baby girl. I was there -- from morning until evening, while she labored for 12 hours and then delivered a perfect, pink, precious bundle of hope. The whole journey made me cry. I cried for the sheer pleasure of being in the room for such a special occasion, for holding my sister's numb and heavy leg in the correct position, for watching a baby plunge into the world, for cutting the umbilical cord. I cried for the pain my sister endured, for the joy of new beginnings, for all that comes next.

For a moment while I held my new niece, I longed for my own baby. Then thoughts of cancer flooded my mind -- combined with thoughts of sleepless nights and endless shrieks and temper tantrums -- and I realized I am happy just as I am, with my own two little boys and a sweet baby girl I plan to borrow as much as possible.

Welcome to the world, Tori!

In the market for something pink? Something soft, cuddly, and awareness raising? Take a look at this baby.

It's a Beanie Baby, another product by TY -- maker of all sorts of handmade collectibles -- and this one is all about breast cancer awareness with its plush pink coat and signature pink ribbon.

Available on Amazon.com for the low, low price of $1.80, this is one hot deal. Grab it while is lasts.

Time to test your smarts -- about sleep, sun, food, and alcohol.

Just read the following questions, pick an option and then scroll down to determine if you really know what's best for your health.

• Is it healthier to sleep an extra hour or force yourself out of bed in the morning to exercise?

• Is it healthier to spend 15 minutes in the sun without sunscreen or two hours in the sun wearing SPF 30?

• Is it better to have a second glass of wine at dinner or a sinful dessert?

Blogger Kristina Collins wrote on February 11 about three great steps for reducing the risk of cancer. Her suggestions -- eat well, get fit, and stop smoking -- are such good tips and could certainly account for major health changes in those who heed this advice.

Each one of these recommended lifestyle alterations is a major undertaking. And if you're like me and find big, swift, sweeping changes a sure recipe for defeat, then this short to-do list may seem a bit intimidating. So I'd like to offer a bit of my own advice for accomplishing these health feats -- take baby steps.

Kristina has taken baby steps. She first quit smoking -- I'm not sure there's anything small about this success, however -- and now she's taking on membership at a gym. Cutting down on red wine comes next, she says, as she pursues a life driven by health.

I have just recently taken a baby step myself. I stopped drinking soda -- or pop as I called it before relocating from Ohio to Florida. I'd known for some time I wanted to rid myself of the sugar that comes packaged in my favorite drinks -- Dr. Pepper and root beer -- but for some reason, I was dragging my feet when it came to giving up this vice. Yet I did it. I stopped drinking soda, replaced it with water, and now have no desire for sugary drinks of any kind.

I am a creature of habit. I know this because I spent years drinking only water. But when cancer struck, I turned to the carbonation of soft drinks to settle my upset stomach. With time, my stomach stopped bothering me. But I didn't stop drinking soda. I kept drinking it for no other reason than pure habit. And when I convinced myself this practice was not necessary in my life, I cut it out.

Perhaps I'll tackle chocolate next. Or exercising more. Who knows. I'm just happy I accomplished one small task. And I hope you'll consider taking baby steps in your pursuits for better health. Just remember, we didn't hop up one day and start sprinting in infancy. It took years to fine-tune our ability to run on our own. And it may take years to carve out a healthful way of living.

Environmental groups claim some children's bath products contain a suspected cancer-causing chemical in amounts that reach or exceed safe limits. The chemical in question -- 1,4-dioxane -- is found in products made by companies such as Johnson and Johnson, Disney, Kimberly-Clark, and Gerber, says David Steinman, head of the environmental publishing company Freedom Press.

The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) calls this chemical, already known to cause cancer in animals, a probable human carcinogen. But there is no real regulation on the petroleum-derived chemical and the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) only recommends cosmetic companies limit the concentration of 1,4-dioxane to 10 parts per million (ppm).

Studies show Johnson's Kids Shampoo Watermelon Explosion contains the maximum recommended level of 10 ppm. They also reveal that Kid Care's Hello Kitty Bubble Bath contains 12.3 ppm of the chemical. And two adult shampoos have been found to have twice the recommended level of this chemical that is typically a manufacturing by-product.

It's been reported that nearly 57 percent of all baby soaps contain 1,4-dioxane. But Iris Grossman, director of communications at Johnson and Johnson, stresses that all of her products are within FDA limits.

Cancer is not the only risky link to children's bath products. It seems these items are also linked to early puberty development. And this is concerning because a fast-paced growth rate combined with children's porous skin increases susceptibility to toxins that can enter the bloodstream. One breast cancer expert says an increase in breast cancer risk is linked to toxic exposures during the formative years of life.

Cancer-related fear once consumed my mind. Now it sits lodged in the back of my brain and only presents itself on rare occasions.

I handle my fears so much better now than when cancer was new and fresh and raw. My fears hardly ever cause me real anxiety, they don't cripple my mental functioning anymore, and more than ever, they serve to focus my efforts in life. When fear strikes, it's usually a wake-up call of sorts, a reminder to leave no stone unturned, a summons to keep on living.

Although so much less threatening than they once were, my fears still exist. And I like to review them once in awhile, lose myself in a little emotional housekeeping, tidy up some of the mess cancer made. I always feel better when things are in order -- fears included.

• I fear a breast cancer recurrence, the return of a tumor that rises to the surface of my skin and presents itself again underneath my fingertips -- or in my worst-case scenario is lost among dense breast tissue, undetected by self-exam, and caught too late by some combination of mammogram, ultrasound, and MRI.

• I fear more than anything another cancer -- something entirely different from breast cancer, something buried in my body and not as responsive as breast cancer to treatment. I am prepared for a second visit from breast cancer because I know how to proceed, know I will succumb to treatment that is familiar, know I will remove both breasts in the most radical of life-saving approaches. But cancer in my lungs, brain, bones, blood, ovaries is out of my realm. And these cancers -- among many others -- really scare me.
  

• I fear that my mom and my sister -- my first-degree female relatives -- will one day follow in my breast cancer footsteps. I once thought family history trickled down from above, from older family members. Now I know the disease can start with anyone. I am the anyone in my family. I am the reason my mom and sister are closely watched and monitored and tested. I am the one that put the fear of cancer into their hearts and minds -- and into mine.
  

• I fear having another baby. I fear the return of cancer during pregnancy, leaving me with difficult choices regarding my health and my baby's health. I fear cancer returning after a baby is born, leaving me with one more child and more treatment to manage. I fear another cancer would lead to a decreased chance of survival and another baby would leave my husband feeling stranded should I die too soon. And I fear having a baby girl who would inherit the very real chance of developing breast cancer at some time during her life.
  

• I fear not having another baby. I fear the regret I may feel one day, perhaps 50 years from now when I am healthy and cancer-free and without the child I longed for. I fear I am being overly cautious, too tentative, a bit selfish. A fellow cancer survivor once wrote me, "I learned that my family continues, even if I do not. I also learned that they are at least as tough as I am so will cope with the genes I pass to them and their own cancer battles if needed. Finally, I learned they look out for each other just as I looked out for them. No matter what your future, you will never regret giving another child a place in your family." I fear this man may be right.
  

• I fear dying at a young age. I fear leaving my children before they are grown. I fear leaving my husband a single parent, my mom someone who has lost a child, and my sister an only child. I have been told over and over again that my chances of survival are great, fantastic even. I have a 93 percent chance of not dying from breast cancer. This does seem great -- until I take into account that this percentage is good for only five years. My five years will expire when I am 39 years old. What happens then, I am not sure. The only thing I am sure about is that five years is not enough time. I want more, need more, demand more. Yet I fear my days may be numbered.
  

These are the fears that keep me focused. And while they are sometimes not-so-pleasant, I am in no hurry to resolve any of them. I am thankful really to have these fears swirling in my head -- because it means I am alive. And for me, being alive with fears is better than not being alive at all.

Soap opera actress Darlene Conley, best known for playing Sally Spectra for the past 20 years on The Bold and the Beautiful, lost her battle with cancer over the weekend. She was 72.

Conley, who was diagnosed with stomach cancer just three months ago, also played characters on Days of our Lives and General Hospital -- and many knew her as black market baby broker Rose DeVille onThe Young and the Restless.

Before embarking on a daytime career, Conley made appearances in movies The Birds and Valley of the Dolls and on television shows such as Murder, She Wrote, Cagney & Lacey, and The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

Glamour editor and leukemia cancer survivor Erin Zammett Ruddy blogs Life with Cancer and is the author of My (So-Called) Normal Life. Five years ago, at the age of 23, Erin was diagnosed with chronic myelogenous leukemia (CML). Immediately after her cancer diagnosis, Erin began chronicling her life with cancer in a monthly Life with Cancer column for Glamour magazine. Recently, she has launched a blog after the same name as her column.

"I am excited to be starting my blog for Glamour. I am going to be talking about whatever it is I am feeling about that particular day.

I hope to hear from readers that instead of being a patient or a victim -- it's something like I have this disease, what can I do with it -- how can I help other people.

Do I wish I didn't have cancer? Yes, but I wouldn't trade my life right now for anything and that life includes cancer."

While Erin is new to blogging, she is not new to writing, and she is an excellent writer. Frank, serious, open, vulnerable, and bouyant with a delightful sense of humor, her writing makes for a blog that is difficult to leave until you have read every post. Erin takes Gleevac, and in order to have a baby she will need to stop taking the drug that keeps her in cancer remission. She is very honest in sharing the anxiety and anticipation of making this choice.

From the blog, you can access the monthly column Erin writes for Glamour magazine. One of the most recent features an interview with MTV's Real World/Road Rules Challenge: Fresh Meat Diem Brown, a 25-year-old woman currently battling ovarian cancer. After hearing about Diem, and watching her on the reality show, Erin was intrigued to meet her. As a result of the time the two spent together, and sharing stories with Diem, Erin was inspired to stay positive in the midst of uncertainty.

Erin Zammett Ruddy is a phenomenal woman with a terrific attitude, and a blog we are glad she keeps.

A member of the Young Survival Coalition named Julie agreed to share her story of having a child after breast cancer.

I asked Julie if she thought that hearing other stories of women having a baby after breast cancer gave her comfort knowing it could happen for her. (That was my reason for me wanting to write this blog post in the first place.) Julie says "I did find comfort in hearing about success stories but I was also very cautious." She was unsure when she met with a fertility specialist how far she wanted to go with the treatments to help her get pregnant. Julie's advice is to find a fertility specialist that will make all medical procedures open to you.

Julie was diagnosed with and 8cm tumor of DCIS and two other tumors that were invasive. Julie received four rounds of Adriamycin and Cytoxen and then four rounds of Taxol. She was told to wait two years before she could try and get pregnant. Her tumor was estrogen negative. Julie was worried that the chemotherapy regime she received would affect her fertility.

She was told there was not much hope in her getting pregnant on her own however Julie was able to get pregnant with no medical intervention. She was 38 at the time. She now has a boy named Michael.

She would like to tell other young breast cancer patients that there is always hope. She doesn't like to brag about getting pregnant to others because she knows that for every one of us that gets pregnant, there are many of us survivors that can't.

Julie says that "she believes Michael was a gift. I look at him everyday and am amazed that he is my son"

A chemical found in hard plastics -- such as CD cases, baby bottles, food-storage containers, and even electronics parts -- has been loosely linked to incidences of breast cancer. Popular opinion cautions that if we were not worried about this news yesterday, we should not be worried about it today -- because studies are preliminary and nothing is definitive at this point. But there are definitely two sides to the debate over how harmful these hard plastics may be.

The chemical in question -- a pseudo-estrogen called bisphenol-A (BPA) -- appears to be absorbed by breast tumor cells, according to a new study published in the August 28 issue of Chemistry & Biology. Previous studies have linked small exposures of BPA to prostate abnormalities in mice that suggest a link between the plastic chemical and human prostate cancer. Some studies even theorize that embryonic and fetal exposure might influence mental retardation and birth defects. And because this pseudo-estrogen is a synthetic material that in human cells can trigger estrogenic effects, breast cancer now comes up as a disease that may result from this questionable chemical.

Critics say that average levels of the chemical found in urine is infinitesimally small -- about one part per billion. Some say the results of this research come from in-vitro studies that one expert says can never fully explain human disease. Yet the real crux of the matter, according to another expert, is that we are surrounded by all sorts of chemicals that are pseudo-estrogenic -- not just BPA -- and it's the cumulative effects that we do need to worry about.

Caroline Cheshire is the founder and online shop owner of Healing Baskets -- a place to find inspiring gifts for cancer patients and cancer caregivers. You can find cancer gifts for women, cancer gifts for men and flowers that don't compromise the immune system for cancer patients experiencing fragile immune systems as a result of cancer treatment. There are gifts for cancer caregivers including inspiration and how-to books, jewelry, music and one of my favorites, the Miracle Worker Mug.

Cheshire created her online business because of her own experiences facing life challenges. At one time, alone in a new town, with two daughters and six- week old twins, she was told she had thyroid cancer.

During the emotionally painful loss of miscarriage, Cheshire shares that while family and friends sent flowers, she sensed they were uncomfortable talking about her loss with her. Her intent with Healing Baskets is to provide a way for those who wish to reach out but might not know how to best do that, with a thoughtful gift of inspiration and encouragement. To view the gifts, visit Healing Baskets.

I don't take for granted that I am alive. I am fully aware of it, consciously grateful for it, continually amazed by it. Before I was confronted with breast cancer, I still knew I could die -- in a car accident maybe -- but I thought chances were pretty good that I would make it to a ripe old age. Death was never at the forefront of my mind. I had no reason to believe that life could be snatched from me. And because of this, I am sure some pretty important moments slipped by me, virtually unnoticed. But now -- after a breast cancer diagnosis, surgery, chemotherapy, radiation therapy, and then more therapy, I realize life is not a guarantee for anyone. Me included. Even at age 36, I am not safe. I feel confident about my future -- and I believe cancer has left my body -- but my life has been threatened like never before. And that makes me wake up and take notice -- really notice -- the moments that are too important to take for granted.

My first baby boy starts kindergarten today. Before cancer, this still would have been a monumental day for us both. But now, after cancer, it's even bigger. Because I know of several moms who did not survive cancer long enough to see their children walk through their first classroom doors -- moms who thought, like me, that they would surely beat cancer and would see their kids off for every first day of school. So I am lucky to have made it to this day -- to witness the wonder of my sweet, shy, sensitive, challenging, demanding, loving boy as he leaves the comfort of home for the real world.

Two days ago, my littlest guy said, "Mommy, I love you and want to keep you forever." Joey -- the boy whose wisdom should guide him right through his first day of school -- said, "Danny, you can't have mommy forever. One day she will die, and you will never see her again." Fortunately, his harsh meaning was lost on three-year-old Danny who kept playing with whatever toy was occupying him at the time. But his meaning was not lost on me. He spoke the truth. And so I plan to soak up the kindergarten moment this morning -- and photograph it and write about it and cherish it for my days to come. And in two years, I hope to do it again with Danny as he starts off on the same path. With me by his side.