I do.
Meggie Mac's not a joke anymore.
A few weeks ago, I was part of the photo shoot for The New York Times Magazine’s cover story about ABC’s “The View.” It should have been a moment of triumph — a vindication of the show’s significance as a place at the center of political debate, a ratings boom, a must for the top tier of presidential candidates. I should have been proud. I knew my father would have been proud.
I look back at those pictures now, and I see a woman hiding her shock and sorrow. I am posed for the camera, looking stern and strong, representing my fellow conservative women across the country. But inside, I am dying. Inside, my baby is dying.
I missed a few days of work. It wasn’t many, but given the job I have, it was enough to spark gossip about why I would be away from “The View.” This was not supposed to be public knowledge. I have had my share of public grief and public joy. I wish this grief — the grief of a little life begun and then lost — could remain private.
Meggie Mac's not a joke anymore.
A few weeks ago, I was part of the photo shoot for The New York Times Magazine’s cover story about ABC’s “The View.” It should have been a moment of triumph — a vindication of the show’s significance as a place at the center of political debate, a ratings boom, a must for the top tier of presidential candidates. I should have been proud. I knew my father would have been proud.
I look back at those pictures now, and I see a woman hiding her shock and sorrow. I am posed for the camera, looking stern and strong, representing my fellow conservative women across the country. But inside, I am dying. Inside, my baby is dying.
I missed a few days of work. It wasn’t many, but given the job I have, it was enough to spark gossip about why I would be away from “The View.” This was not supposed to be public knowledge. I have had my share of public grief and public joy. I wish this grief — the grief of a little life begun and then lost — could remain private.
They were conceived, and they lived, fully human and fully ours — and then they died. We deserve the opportunity to speak openly of them, to share what they were and to mourn. More important, they deserve to be spoken of, shared and mourned. These children, shockingly small, shockingly helpless, entirely the work of our love and our humanity, are children.
We who mourn are their mothers.
5 comments:
She has my deepest sympathies. I never lost one. I know women who did. Like Meghan, they remember those children their lives long, and they mourn.
One of the most moving things I've ever read.
Don't know what to make of her. I guess she's a work in progress. Hope she's recovering.
I'll give her that, Art. If Kim Kardashian wants to start getting serious with her life, which she seems to be in the process of doing, I can only applaud Meghan McCain for doing the same thing. At any rate, I hope she heals and has a child down the road.
Odd that she referred to that "clump of cells" as a child, something to be mourned, isn't it? :-)
Make that "someone" to be mourned.
Post a Comment