Novelist Elizabeth McCracken on losing her first son.
Photo © Tom Langdon
Elizabeth McCracken
All expectant mothers know what it’s like to be subjected to horror stories of the “72-hour labor that ends in an emergency C-section” variety. But the ordeal that novelist Elizabeth McCracken endured, which she refers to simply as “the calamity,” was so truly devastating that she found friends, family and acquaintances wouldn’t dare repeat it to their pregnant friends.
After an otherwise healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy, McCracken’s son died at term in utero. The grief-stricken McCracken, who was living in France, still had to go through le travail, and deliver her child’s body. The cause of death remained mysterious even after a postnatal autopsy.
In “An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination” — the story of her pregnancy, the stillbirth of her son and her grief over his death — McCracken writes that she realized her experience was actually worse than a cautionary tale. It was practically unmentionable. She breaks that silence in this spare and wrenching short memoir about her stillborn son, whom she and her husband refer to by the pet name they’d called him throughout the pregnancy, Pudding.
Broadsheet e-mailed with McCracken, 42, who is living in Cambridge for the year as a fellow at the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Studies, with her husband and their son, August.
Why did you want to write a book about Pudding?
In retrospect, the easy answer is that he didn’t have a life on earth, but at least I could write his biography. The truth is: In those early weeks of my second child’s life, I needed to write about my first child. I wanted to hold onto him a while longer.
Even as early as two weeks after your son’s death, some friends would see you without acknowledging your loss. Why do you think that there is such a taboo about talking about stillbirth?
I think people are terrified, and, God knows, I’m sympathetic: It is terrifying. I have been the person who tries to keep conversation light while talking to someone whose heart has been smashed. For some reason, back then, what to do seemed so complicated. On this side of the divide, it seems so simple. Say something.
In general, I think people are worried about saying the wrong thing to any grieving person. On a very basic level, I think they’re frightened of touching off tears or sorrow, as though someone tearing up at the mention of unhappy news would be the mentioner’s fault.
People are appalling optimists. They want to look on the bright side: “At least he isn’t suffering.” “At least she had a good life.” Understandably, they want to shine light into darkness, even if it’s just a happy memory of someone dead. Well, with stillbirth, there is no easy light to bring, no, “At least…”
Do you think if this kind of loss were acknowledged more publicly it would be easier to bear and less crazy-making?
There’s a lot that would be easier if we could talk about stillbirth and neonatal loss and grief in general, but some things are still going to be hard.
I would have given anything to hear from people straight off, “I am so sorry,” the merest mention that something terrible had happened to me and my husband. That did make me feel crazy, as though I had made up the whole pregnancy and death. Or, even worse, as though what had happened to me was really not so bad, and I was making a big deal of it.
But the bad luck bit — that, I think, will always be with me, and I don’t think anyone could have said anything to make me feel better.
There’s a very good Web site, wonderfully written, a kind of collective of women who have lost children, glowinthewoods.com. The women who write it call themselves Medusas and say that the Web site is where they can all doff their disguises and look each other in the face without fear of turning anyone to stone.
After Pudding’s death, you were sure it was your fault. Why? Have you been able to overcome that sense?
Well, I was in charge, wasn’t I? The brain says immediately: “How can I go back in time and make it not happen?” You revisit every single worry and regret of your pregnancy.
I don’t think I’ll ever be entirely over that, though it’s certainly better now than it was.
What should friends and family members say or do for a couple who have had a stillborn child?
Pay attention. Say something. Ask what you can do to help. Remember that a woman who has given birth to a dead child has given birth and is recovering physically, too. Don’t be afraid of grieving parents.
For me, one of the things that really helped was other people’s actual grief, the friends who made it clear that they weren’t sad for me, but sad for themselves. They were looking forward to meeting this kid. They missed him.
In retrospect, I can see how brave those people were — it’s easy to worry about claiming one’s own grief in the face of greater grief — but it was the immediacy of the feelings that meant so much to me, that, and seeing that if other people were sad, then I had the right to be really sad.
Above all, don’t try to hurry them into feeling better or suggest that you hope they’re over it.
As a family member or friend, what is the worst thing that you can say or do?
Nothing, or any kind of the aforementioned looking on the bright side.
A woman I know who lost a child told me that someone said something like, “Well, you were old to have children anyway.” That may be the worst thing I can imagine.
If time has gone by, and you haven’t managed to say anything, or write a condolence card, it’s never too late. Your card may come on a day when the parent(s) feel like everyone else in the world has forgotten. Apologize for taking a while and offer your sorrow. I just recently got a beautiful, amazing e-mail from a friend who said she hadn’t known what to say when Pudding died, but that she wanted me to know that the saddest day of my life was also the saddest day of hers. My God, that e-mail meant the world to me.
Another reason people are so bad when it comes to grief is that they worry that condolence is somehow a test of how good a person they are. That might have been my problem, back before. Somehow my ego interfered. I couldn’t admit how stupid and helpless I felt in the face of someone else’s sorrow. I could only feel stupid and helpless.
So, remember that it’s not about you. “Words fail” or “I don’t know what to say” are excellent ways of telling people that what has happened is so sad, you’re at a loss. Some of the loveliest notes I got were from people I scarcely knew. Acknowledgment of grief — well, it makes feeling the grief easier, not harder.
How was your second pregnancy different than the first?
In nearly every way, and largely by choice. No amnio, no finding out gender, no pet names, no daydreaming about the future, lots and lots of monitoring, but full of hope, too, and a really specific physical connection to the kid inside me — a full-body gratitude.
What happened to Broadsheet?
Wednesday, Dec 22, 2010 12:20 AM UTCDid the recession prevent teen motherhood?
Some thank the economy for a decline in teenagers giving birth, but contraception is the likelier savior
Teen births hit a record low last year, according to a CDC report released Tuesday, and the narrative quickly taking hold in the media is that we have the recession to thank. It’s a surprising idea, that teenagers are keeping it in their pants because a baby isn’t a prudent choice in the current economic environment. Foresight isn’t what we expect from those creatures of impulse — and, indeed, when is a baby a practical economic choice for a teen? It also struck me that the teen birth rate isn’t the same as the teen pregnancy rate, if you catch my drift (my drift being … abortion). I took my questions to a couple of experts in hopes of some clarity.
“The recession is everyone’s favorite causal explanation for things happening right now,” said Rachel Jones of the Guttmacher Institute. “Other than people conjecturing, there is no evidence that the recession has had a direct impact on teen sexual behaviors.” What we do know, however, is that contraceptive use increased among teens between 2007 and 2009. “We don’t know the reason for that increase,” she explains, and, in fact, it could be the recession — but, again, the truth is we just don’t know. Her no-nonsense take: “It seems if we want to look for reasons for patterns in teen birth rates, [birth control use] is the one indicator that offers us practical insights.”
Bill Albert of the National Campaign to Prevent Teen Pregnancy shared my initial skepticism about the economic explanation: “I just simply do not know many 16-year-olds who are thinking about bank statements when they hop in the sack.” But he pointed out that while roughly eight out of 10 teen pregnancies are unplanned, “there is a mushy middle ground [of teens who] say, ‘Well, yeah, I wouldn’t want to get pregnant, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing that happened.’” Call it the “mush” factor: Perhaps those ambivalent teens were swayed by firsthand experience of the economic meltdown: “Their parents might be struggling to make house payments,” he said. “They might know neighbors who have lost jobs and can’t find jobs.”
As for the question of whether a decrease in teen births might be linked to an increase in teen abortions, there is a bummer of a data lag: Guttmacher isn’t releasing 2008 stats on pregnancy terminations until early next year. However, says Albert, “if the past is prologue, the answer is probably no. What we have seen over the past two decades is that teen birth rates have gone down because the underlying pregnancy rate has gone down. Put another way, all three — pregnancy, abortion, birth — all tended to be going down at the same time.” Jones agrees: “Teen births and abortions seem to follow the same trajectory,” she said. “We haven’t seen any indicators that abortions have gone a different direction than births.”
You might recall that there was a troubling and unexplained rise in the teen birth rate in 2006 and 2007. Albert says the 2009 finding — which followed a 2008 decrease — suggests the uptick was “an abnormal blip” and that we’re now “resuming a nearly two decade trend toward fewer teen pregnancies and fewer births.” Inexplicably, some abstinence advocates think this report has “exonerated their approach,” reports the Washington Post. Valerie Huber of the National Abstinence Education Association told the paper, “This latest evidence shows that teen behaviors increasingly mirror the skills they are taught in a successful abstinence education program.” Except that … it doesn’t. Says Guttmacher’s Rachel Jones, “The levels of teen sexual activity haven’t changed, which would suggest that there isn’t more abstinence out there — but there was a change in contraceptive use.”
Olbermann still doesn’t get it
The MSNBC host is back on Twitter with a response to his critics -- but he ignores their key complaint
Update: Olbermann has responded on Twitter by blocking me and tweeting, “Your article embarrasses you and your site.”
Back from his self-imposed Twitter timeout, Keith Olbermann is lashing out at his feminist critics. As Sady Doyle explained last week in Salon, the online protest was started in response to Michael Moore’s mischaracterization of the allegations against Julian Assange. Olbermann became a target after retweeting a link from Bianca Jagger that incorrectly claimed “the term ‘rape’ in Sweden includes consensual sex without a condom,” and that named Assange’s accuser (which is generally a journalistic no-no). Overwhelmed by the Twitter campaign, which was waged with the hashtag “mooreandme,” Olbermann quit the microblogging site in a huff. This afternoon, after a few days of calm reflection, he tweeted a link to his thoughts on the matter:
I endorse, sympathize with, and empathize with, the rape consciousness goals of #mooreandme, and have already apologized accordingly. But I cannot defend and will not accept their tactics which mirror so many of the attitudes and threats they fight. I do not know of what Julian Assange is guilty, if anything, and neither does anybody else. But given the extraordinary efforts by Sweden to extradite him, to say he is benefiting from some form of rape apologism is not fact-based. It is also unfair to condemn as anti-feminist those who merely address the juxtaposition of this prosecution to the fact that Assange threatens the secret and nefarious activities of dozens of governments.
But, of course, his antagonists are not condemning him for “merely address[ing] the juxtaposition” (a point Kate Harding made clear in her Salon piece about “the rush to smear Assange’s accuser”). They allege that he spread misinformation about the accusations against Assange. As Doyle wrote, “People trust journalists: If a journalist says something, like ‘the term “rape” in Sweden includes consensual sex without a condom’ (Olbermann’s own, demonstrably false, as-yet-unredacted words), most people will believe that what he has said is true, and act as if it is true, without doing further research.” The protest has consisted of frequent calls for Olbermann to issue a simple correction, to set the record straight for his many followers.
Instead of doing that, though, Olbermann continues: “And I will not engage those who suggest that those who do not prioritize one issue to the exclusion of all others should succumb to forced financial contributions, or should ‘kill themselves.’” He followed up by retweeting one of the messages in question, which read in part, “Seriously, kill yourself.” Then he retweeted a call for him to donate $20,000 to the anti-rape organization RAINN as atonement. His antagonists have been quick to point out that he cherry-picked the “kill yourself” tweet, which is an exception in the thread, and that the call for “financial contributions” is simply in the interest of rape victims. One user wrote, “we WILL NOT be satisfied UNTIL you retract the false information you publicized re: Assange allegations.” Olbermann responded, “you’ll have to accept a block instead.”
It seems Olbermann’s Twitter vacation didn’t help him to raise the level of discourse or realize that, as Doyle put it, his “style of old-media authority doesn’t hold up” online.
Save the children from Hooters?
NOW calls on the breast-obsessed chain to stop serving kids
The National Organization for Women is protesting Hooters. I know: Yawn. Next I’ll be interrupting major sporting events with breaking news that Gloria Steinem isn’t a fan of the “Girls Gone Wild” franchise. But, seriously, the argument at play here is more interesting than it at first seems. It isn’t the breast-obsessed chain’s existence that is being challenged, but rather the fact that Hooters serves children. Clearly, there is abundant evidence that Hooters is guilty of poor taste (see: restaurant name) — but should the chain be forced to card customers at the door and turn away anyone younger than 18? Several California chapters of NOW have filed official complaints alleging just that.
Hooters is described in official business filings as a provider of “vicarious sexual entertainment.” NOW points out that the chain has “used this designation as a way to avoid compliance with regulations against sexual discrimination in the workplace.” The official employment manual warns that a waitress is, as NOW paraphrases, “employed as a sexual entertainer and as part of her employment can expect to be subjected to various sexual jokes by customers and such potential contacts as buttocks slaps.” At the same time, however, Hooters is marketed as a family-friendly restaurant. It offers a kid’s menu, high chairs, booster seats and all sorts of merchandise for little tykes — like a “Life begins at Hooters” T-shirt, an “I’m a boob man” onesie and a “Your crib or mine?” bib.
We could argue over whether Hooters has a healthy impact on a kid’s developing view of women and sex, but I tend to think entertainment and dining decisions should be left up to individual parents. More important, that isn’t the issue at hand. In this case, NOW (which hasn’t always been a model of moderate thinking) has taken the exceedingly reasonable position that Hooters shouldn’t be allowed to have the best of both worlds: Either it functions exclusively as an adult venue, and continues to protect itself (somewhat) from sexual discrimination claims, or it’s held to the same standards as any ol’ family restaurant and gets to keep on serving the kiddies tater tots and creepy onesies.
Why do serial killers target sex workers?
The question is raised after four female bodies are found on a Long Island beach
Authorities search in the brush by the side of the road at Cedar Beach, near Babylon, N.Y., Tuesday, Dec. 14, 2010. Police looking for a missing prostitute on Long Island's Fire Island have discovered three bodies and a set of skeletal remains near Oak Beach since Saturday. Investigators are considering the possibility that a serial killer may have dumped four bodies along the same quarter-mile stretch of beachside road, a police chief said Tuesday. (AP Photo/Seth Wenig) (Credit: AP)
As New York confronts the possibility that there’s a serial killer on the loose, many have taken note that this case looks a lot like what we see in the movies: The victims are all women, and at least one is suspected to be a sex worker. When it comes to serial murder, it turns out fiction really does reflect reality. A report was released last month finding that 70 percent of known victims of serial killers are women (consider that only 22 percent of homicide victims in general are female); and it turns out sex workers are 18 times more likely than “normal” women to be murdered. Why might this be? Well, in the words of the Green River Killer, who targeted prostitutes:
I picked prostitutes as victims because they were easy to pick up without being noticed. I knew they would not be reported missing right away and might never be reported missing. I picked prostitutes because I thought I could kill as many of them as I wanted without getting caught.
Since they’re doing illegal work, sex workers have to be secretive and discreet. They often work in isolated and industrial areas. They get in cars with strangers. There are rarely detailed records of transactions. Many are drug addicts and estranged from their families, so they are less likely to be reported missing. Anyone who knows anything about a girl’s whereabouts is likely involved in the trade themselves, so they aren’t super eager to speak with police. What’s more, as we saw with the Robert Pickton case in Vancouver, police sometimes discount tips from working girls (all the more reason to not risk talking to them in the first place).
It just so happens that Friday is International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers, which was created in memory of the victims of Gary Ridgeway, a.k.a the Green River Killer. Similar to the Pickton case, local sex workers knew Ridgeway’s identity, but, as prostitute-turned-performance artist Annie Sprinkle puts it, they “were afraid to come forward for fear of getting arrested, or the police didn’t believe those that did come forward, or the police didn’t seem to care.”
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