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April 27, 2011



You are not a dipstick, my dear. A dipstick is someone who calls a "purse" a "pocketbook."

Once again, a beautiful post.


I'm sorry about your mama, Jen. And... well, you knock my socks off with your ability to live through pain with grace and humor. No shit you can lower your own blood pressure! I wouldn't be surprised if you could bend steel through will alone.

As for this:
"one day some pregnant or one day would-be pregnant lady will read it and not be inclined to self-diagnose , or brush it off, or suck it up until the doctor's office opens. And maybe, if that were to happen, it's possible to think one person might be spared a horrific outcome. If that were to happen, ...well, that would be a comforting thought."

I think you should be comforted by that. Part of why I couldn't finish reading your last post (I was weeping wildly for... maybe an hour after my attempt) was because, well, obviously, I'm about as pregnant as you were when you got sick, with my first baby, a little Caucasian boy. But also because my sister and nephew (her first baby, etc., etc. ) almost died six years ago, just before New Year's, from HELLP syndrome. A thinks she was exhibiting signs earlier that week when she went to the hospital, puking, with an off white-cell count, but they sent her home. A and my nephew got lucky. But it might not have turned out that way.

It was all too close to home for me. And I still can't imagine... I'm going to stop, or I'll start up with the wild weeping again.

I'm glad you wrote what you did. Even if I couldn't finish it, I'm grateful you did. And I think you may have helped an unknown someone, saved a life or two.

Hard to imagine a better use for a blog.

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