The first time I understood that love can die long before a body does was at 3:47 on a Tuesday morning, when a doctor pronounced me dead and my husband did not ask anyone to save me.
He asked whether the baby was alive.
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The first time I understood that love can die long before a body does was at 3:47 on a Tuesday morning, when a doctor pronounced me dead and my husband did not ask anyone to save me.
He asked whether the baby was alive.
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