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Love and Grief

 Last week, I wore my Entitled Parent armor. The public school system accidentally failed to include summer bus transportation in my child's IEP; I discovered this and demanded a change.


The new IEP made its debut. The transportation department blithely responded: "We'll address your bus situation, but this will take three to five business days."

I've been around the "special needs" block, and I know it's illegal not to follow the specifications of an IEP, even for one day. (Never mind that I would be truly insane to bring this to court--and I surely would not win anything.) As I continued to push, I thought, how obnoxious it is that I have to spend time on this. Why is this something that needs to be on a parent's plate?

Then I picked up Lauren Christensen's memoir. Christensen is over twenty weeks pregnant when she learns that her baby is dying in her womb. Though the baby won't make it, and though a full-term pregnancy would be a serious health risk for any adult with this set of cards, the state of North Carolina will not permit an abortion. So Christensen has to travel far from her home to save her own life.

A "conventional" abortion could occur, but then the baby would have to endure being dismembered. Another option would be to inject the baby, so in utero death could happen speedily. Christensen would then have to give birth to the dead baby.

After her catastrophic loss, Christensen must tolerate the ordeal of selecting an urn. In this process, she discovers that she isn't actually sure where the corpse of her baby is passing the time. Has the incineration process already occurred? Or is the baby in the morgue? Stunned by her own ignorance, Christensen accosts herself. How can she continue with her day if she isn't at the baby's side--if she can't even tell you which building the baby is in?

I admire Christensen's book because it is free of self pity--and because it resists cliches. There isn't a grand lesson to pass on. You wade through a river of indignities; if you're lucky, you find yourself in the middle of a new pregnancy. (One of the strongest passages has Christensen sitting with her mother-in-law. The MIL calmly confesses that she once endured three miscarriages. LC is briefly stunned to discover that other people around her are *also* shattered; other people are *also* just bravel attempting to get by.)

I'm embarrassed by my myopia--when I think of my "bus argument." Christensen's memoir is worth reading.
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