A few weeks ago, the news of Jen Arnold, of TLC's series "The Little Couple," having choriocarcinoma, broke. It really was the strangest thing, because first, they released that she had "a rare form of cancer," well, thats not too uncommon. It seems, these days, that "rare cancer," is a term you hear a lot. So, I saw it, and I immediately began scouring the web. You might not believe this, but I had the strangest feeling that she had what I had. So, I searched and searched about her pregnancies. Of course, at the time, I wasn't thinking in terms of her having possibly had a miscarriage. I was thinking of her being exactly like me, so I googled the heck out of it, then kind of forgot about it. I figured it was breast cancer... just like everybody I ever talked to about my own cancer figured about me.
About two weeks later, People magazine broke the story that she is battling Stage III Choriocarcinoma. AKA exactly what I have/had. I could not believe it! My heart goes out to you, Jen. The headline reads: "A New Mom's Fight to Live." I picked up a copy while grocery shopping, and took it home. I left it on the counter, because I had worked late and got busy picking Jack up from his grandparents, preparing dinner, you know. The usual. The next day, while preparing my morning cuppa joe, my gaze fell on that headline. I welled up with tears, and was overcome with emotion. That is such a loaded headline. A New Mom's Fight to Live. That is such a direct, heart breaking, gut wrenching, accurate account of what she is going through. What I went through.
I have mentioned in other blogs that, during the cancer, I was extremely single minded and focused. It was only after I had won the battle that I really understood the emotional toll of the war. There are simply no words for what I feel for you and your family, Jen. When you described laying on the couch, but being in the living room, so you could see things and witness them, I felt like your soul sister. You were being quoted for everything I felt, exactly the same. EMA/CO is an extremely challenging and toxic regimen, and I cannot even imagine being in your shoes, dealing with the rarity of your form of dwarfism, with it's own set of challenges to treatment.
I wanted to reach out and put my feelings out there, and let you know that my family and friends and followers on this blog are all pulling for you. I wish that I could hug you, or bring you some cookies. I know you have millions of fans and so many people praying for you and sending you that good juju, but I just wanted you to know that I'm thinking of you too.