Tara Lynn: Why Kate Middleton's cancer news hit me so hard

I’ll admit it. I’m a “royal junkie.” I have always had a fascination for the royal family. I love learning about the history, pomp and circumstance, and details on their peculiar rules.

I remember vividly sobbing when I heard the news of Princess Diana’s death. I was in middle school, about the same age as Prince William. I remember watching him and Harry walk behind her casket feeling so sad for them. Wondering how and why anybody would make them endure that painful walk.

As I’ve grown up, I love to watch documentaries about the royals and European history in general. When the news first broke about Kate Middleton’s abdominal surgery and her noted absence the following weeks, I had hoped, naively, that she would get the privacy she long desired.

Yes. I watched some of the so-called internet sleuths and their far-fetched theories about where she could really be and what could really be happening. All the while I really did think she was having a health issue and just wanted to be left alone.

When she was forced to reveal her diagnosis last week, I had a knot in my stomach. It puzzled me at first. I could hardly eat my lunch because I was overwhelmed by the news. Perhaps it’s because I feel a very kindred spirit with Kate Middleton.

She and Prince William married about two weeks after my husband and I got married. We are nearly the same age going through all the same life stages at the same time. Her children are about one year older than each of mine. Not to mention, she is a photographer like me! She takes her own photos of her children for their birthday portraits. (For the record, the Photoshop issues with her Mother’s Day photo were way overblown. I won’t bother with that rabbit hole though.) Oh yea, and she and William are dog lovers (added bonus).

While I have not had nearly the eyes on me as she has, I was a TV reporter for 15 years. I had to navigate sharing my family and kids on social media while thinking about where all of these images and information will end up in the future (something we all should be cautious about as parents).

She and William have made strong efforts to give their children privacy and as much of a normal childhood as possible. I applaud them for that. I also feel such sympathy for them trying to balance it all.

But the real reason my stomach immediately turned into knots when I watched Middleton’s video was the fact that she was living my worst nightmare. At least one of my two worst nightmares.

My first nightmare would be to lose one of my children before I leave this earth.

My second would be to leave them when they are at such a young age.

I can’t imagine hearing the news myself, much less having to explain it to my children (ages 9, 7 and 4). Add to that, the possibility of leaving my children when the world’s eyes continue to watch them as they grow up.

I truly hope her chemotherapy is preventative and she will have a long wonderful life meeting her grandchildren and even great-grandchildren. She has faced the world under intense scrutiny and done it with grace.

A mother is supposed to be there on milestone birthdays, kiss and bandage scrapes and boo boos, give advice for first break-ups, wipe tears when the pressures of growing up is overwhelming. A mother is supposed to fuss over their children no matter how old they are. They are to be a soft landing place and constant anchor point.

To imagine that role being stolen from me by cancer or any reason is too much. I pray Kate and her children have decades of memories to share. I pray I get to see my children grow and have families of their own.

We aren’t guaranteed tomorrow. We aren’t guaranteed ten years from now. The news business definitely reminded me of that lesson every single day. It’s a lesson that is hard to forget. Still, hearing the reality of the battle Kate Middleton is facing, it hit me in an intimate way.

Just another reminder to make the most of each moment. I’ll still lose my patience with my kids and raise my voice, but I’ll be the first in line to dry their tears, have my arms open when they need it, and try my best to prepare them for an unforgiving, yet beautiful world.