I like to consider myself a bit of a hard-nosed journo.
Years of court and police reporting have left me a little on the flippant side when it comes to tragedy.
Don't get me wrong - I have a heart and feel for those in pain. But not a lot shocks or upsets me.
That was until I had a child.
During the past 20 months, something within my emotions has changed drastically.
I'm a right cry baby now. Any movies, news reports or written articles about harm coming to children is like an instant switch to my tear ducts.
But you don't have to be a parent to share in the sadness for a New Zealand family who lost their triplets last week.
The 2-year-olds died in a fire that ripped through a shopping mall in Doha, Qatar, killing 19 people, mainly children.
I watched in horror (and flooding tears) as news broke of the toddlers' deaths after they were unable to be saved from their daycare centre.
I simply can't imagine what the parents are going through.
How would you ever get over such a loss? I know I wasn't alone in feeling such sorrow.
It's not news you want to hear - so much so I couldn't stand to watch the television on Thursday night.
As the parents were interviewed for the first time, they gave a raw blow-by-blow account of what happened on that fateful day.
If my friends on Facebook were anything to go by, I know I wasn't alone in grabbing the remote and changing channels.
Although it was incredibly brave of the parents to share their ordeal (and possibly in some way healing for them), for me it was too much.
I'm not complaining about the coverage or the parents' decision to speak out. I'm just glad I had an option not to watch.
An inspiring, astonishing adventure, including being mistaken for missing Marokopa family.