And I ran across a story of a woman who met Palin at the Mall of America signing here. It's sweet and tear-jerky:
I shook Sarah's hand as I got to her and asked if she would sign my shirt. She did! She signed my book and I handed her a precious feet pin and told her it was in memory of Tad (her baby lost to miscarriage). She got teary eyed and said, "That is just so precious! Thank you! God bless you! Todd, isn't that precious?" He nodded.I thought that was so sweet. I know a lady who's got three kids and has also had three miscarriages. She always says that she's got six kids and that she's looking forward to meeting the three that have gone on ahead of her someday.
I told her that I loved her and she said she loved me too. I shook Todd's hand and told him it was so nice to meet him....I was interviewed by Star Tribune and someone else videotaped me yapping about Sarah Palin. Many folks took pictures of my signed shirt. I guess she is not supposed to do that. I submit that she can pretty much do whatever she wants. Her book. Her gig. Her people.
From "Going Rogue":
The doctor said coldly, "There's nothing alive in there."She later mentioned briefly that she had another miscarriage between Willow and Piper.
Her bluntness shocked me. I felt sick and hollow, and burst into tears.
"You have a couple of choices about getting rid of it," she said.
"It." That's what she called our baby, whom we'd been calling Tad for three months.
She went on to explain that I could go home and let "it" pass naturally. Or I could have a D&C.
I wasn't listening. I was praying. Why, God? Why?
I was stunned and I felt so very empty.
It was my first taste of close personal tragedy, the kind that rocks a relatively untested faith....Mom came over to watch Track. A friend stopped by. But I just lay on my bed feeling like the world had stopped spinning....
A miscarriage is often dismissed as something a woman needs to shake off quickly, but it's impossible to explain the devastation and loss unless you've experienced it....
My heart ached for this baby more than for anything else. The miscarriage carved a new depth in my heart. I became a little less Pollyanna-ish, a little less naive about being invincible and in control. And I became a lot more attuned to other people's pain.
I guess you could call this a tribute.
Beautiful poem and heart-rending stories below it here.
Okay, now I'm all teary-eyed.