January 4, 2012 · filed under baby miller, grief, politics
It turns out Rick Santorum and I have something in common
For anyone who knows me, it is probably no surprise that I would never, ever vote for Rick Santorum. I wouldn’t vote for anyone who draws parallels between homosexuality and “man on child, man on dog” or who doesn’t “believe” global warming is “real.” The nicest way to put it is to say that we have fundamentally different world views.
But I’m finding myself really angry about something I’ve been hearing about him lately and I feel the need to speak up.
I heard first it at a small social gathering.
“So how about the Republican primary, pretty crazy, right? Can you believe Santorum actually has a chance?”
“Have you heard that thing about his stillborn baby, how he brought it home from the hospital?”
And then, in a blast email I got today, citing the Santorums’ “decision to force their children to kiss, hug, fondle, and sing to the dead baby.”
And I’ve seen tweets like this one: “Just a reminder that Rick Santorum kissed and cuddled a dead baby for hours and he is treated as a somewhat-viable presidential candidate.”
I’m sure my experience having a stillborn baby was different than the Santorums’, for probably a million reasons. But I can tell you that the couple of hours I got to spend with my son Miller — when yes, he was dead — were hours that I cherish so very much. In fact, my biggest, and probably only regret, a regret that sometimes feels like it’s eating a hole through my insides, is that we did not hold him for longer when we had the chance. Because I’ll never get to hold him again.
I wish we had spent the night with him. I wish I had held him until my arms were tired, and then for longer. I wish I told him 100 more times that I loved him and that I was so sorry he did not get a chance to grow up.
I console myself by saying that we made the best decisions we could at the time we were making them. I can’t really explain it any other way. But I’d kill to have those hours back, and I’d do it over differently.
To be critical of another family spending time with their (dead) beloved baby — that is just beyond my scope of acceptable right now. As a liberal, and a Democrat, and a fervently pro-choice person, I don’t think it is okay.
The reason I am pro-choice is because I believe that medical & reproductive decisions ought to be left to women and their doctors. I trust that most women, and most doctors, will make moral and ethical choices for themselves, given the circumstances they are in.
And so I think we ought to grant that same liberty and freedom from judgment to the Santorums, and to other parents of stillborn babies. They should choose how to grieve and cope and make decisions that are right for them and their families during a family tragedy.
If I hadn’t experienced this loss, I would have probably said those statements above, too. And the Santorums’ loss doesn’t really forgive the fact that they made it into a political platform issue. And I’m probably having somewhat of a knee-jerk reaction because my regrets over time spent with Miller are so raw and painful. But even with all those caveats, let’s leave the guy alone on this topic. There are plenty of other things to dislike about him.
Tweet18 Comments
oh, hello
miller everett
Kate
January 4, 2012 10:50 pm
I cannot believe people are jumping on that as a reason to criticise Santorum. As if there aren’t enough good reasons already- I live a million miles away in a different hemisphere, and I know that! I don’t think I would ever have described that behaviour as strange at all- yes, turning it into a political issue is not appropriate, but choosing the grieve the way they wanted to?
Nathan Pralle
January 4, 2012 11:25 pm
Agreed and well-written. I wouldn’t wish the loss of a child on even my worst enemy, let alone a great friend. At the end of the day, no matter what, Santorum is still a person and a human being and a father, and ought to be treated as such. As you say, there’s plenty of other reasons to dislike his beliefs and politics without digging into this private and tragic material.
I figure when you lose a child, you damned near have carte blanche to do as you like. Whatever works for your psyche to try to even *begin* to handle, understand, and cope with such a loss should pretty much be allowed. I’m pretty sure I’d all but lose my entire grip on reality and all reasons to breathe let alone move or think something was happy or funny again, so I have enormous amounts of respect and admiration for those who make it through the other side. I am in NO place to ever, EVER make judgment on what anyone has to do to get through that mire, and anyone may beat me into a quivering pulp should I ever suppose otherwise.
Laurel of Sass Attack, RIP
January 5, 2012 12:02 am
As you well know, I share your political leanings, dislike most of what Santorum stands for and am pro-choice. I’ve also never grieved a loss like yours (there but for the grace of God go I…)
BUT this commentary is totally distasteful and also strikes me as ill-informed. As more and more people I love have had children, I have had friend miscarry, have stillborn children, lose babies to SIDS, and have children with down syndrome, autism and other challenges that they could not have foreseen. All of these people have had to grieve for their diverse losses in different ways. A friend of mine had a small rememberence ceremony for her 16 week miscarriage. I have another friend who lost a baby at 11 months to SIDS; she now has a second son and still hangs both boys’ stockings at Christmas. My point is that the loss of a child comes in many, many forms and that our culture is only beginning to provide parents space to grieve openly as they need. The LAST thing we need is to demonize something so personal for political points. Ugh.
On a less rant-y note, Janet, the time you spent with Miller, and the love you continue to give him every day, is perfect. Where you may feel you have fallen short, you are forgiven. I know you “know” this intellectually, but it’s worth repeating anyway, I hope. xoxo
Lele
January 5, 2012 9:26 am
Your last sentence says it all!
Katina
January 5, 2012 10:43 am
I say people are allowed to grieve their child’s death in anyway they see fit as long as it doesn’t harm themselves or another person. I’ve known people who sent out birth announcements with the footprints of the baby, I’ve known people who just sent an email, I know people who set out a dinner setting out of habit…so yeah, there are plenty of other reasons to not care for the guy, but this isn’t one of them.
Liz
January 5, 2012 10:59 am
Wow, I hadn’t heard that about Santorum but I completely agree with you. What a terrible thing to criticize someone over and drudge through the mud. Politics can certainly bring out the worst in some people. Even if I didn’t know you and know what you’ve been through, I still would never think to attack him on how he grieves for his baby’s death. Awful.
Olivia
January 5, 2012 11:03 am
I’m totally with you on this. No one has the right to say how another person should grieve. We all process grief differently and whatever helps us in that process is right.
Kristin
January 5, 2012 11:16 am
Amen and well said.
alison
January 5, 2012 11:57 am
There truly should be some sacred things in the world and criticizing how other people grieve is one of them.
I am so clueless. I had not even registered Santorum’s name before the caucus!
Brooke
January 5, 2012 12:10 pm
Yes, yes. There are a zillion reasons not to like this guy, or not to think he’s a viable candidate. But the way he and his wife chose to grieve the death of their child? Not fair game. At all.
I remember getting home from the hospital and sitting helplessly on the couch and turning to my husband and saying, “I know this is crazy, but I wish we could have her body here because I just want to HOLD her.” I get it. I get how much it hurts, how much you long to hold on to that baby, how deeply physical that need is.
And even if I didn’t get it, I know better than to use a dead child as political fodder. You just don’t do it.
Jackie
January 5, 2012 12:12 pm
Wow, I didn’t know that. People can be so awful.
heidikins
January 5, 2012 1:29 pm
I think there is very little that is really understood and accepted about grief. I saw a play on Broadway a few years ago about a mother who, 18 years after he died, was still grieving her son in such a real way that he is a character in the play and interacts with her in the same way her 16-year old daughter does. The grief she feels, still, and the presence her son has in heart mind and heart does not go away.
I absolutely agree with Laurel’s comment, there is no place to judge or even comment on someone else dealing with loss. No place. Ever.
Love you, my dear. Thinking of you and Andrew all the time, wishing you both peace and comfort.
xox
K
January 5, 2012 3:02 pm
As much as I so viscerally disagree with Santorum and his political leanings, it is also as heartfelt and genuine when I think of the sadness he must have felt over losing his child.
To combine and even confuse the two by others, politically or otherwise, is not acceptable nor is it appropriate.
doahleigh
January 6, 2012 7:13 pm
Unfortunately I think people will find any reason to vilify a candidate they don’t like. Had that story been about a candidate these people supported, they probably would spin it to show his compassion and human-ness.
I think what have written is right on and well-said. I’m glad you took the time to say it.
Alissa
January 6, 2012 11:54 pm
I have the same regrets about my children. I wish I would have talked to them more, sang to them, kissed them. I was in shock and couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that they were gone. Just like that. Now, I look back and wish I had taken more time to say goodbye.
I get it. And I don’t care for Rick, but I do understand.
Renel
January 8, 2012 11:47 pm
Hello Janet- thanks for coming by my blog. I’m so sorry your son miller isn’t with you to hug and kiss. I’m new to your blog and will have to read and explore more. I hope this year will be one of hope and joy. I don’t know what else to hope for. I wish we could have Camille and Miller but since we can’t I am hoping for hope and a little less anger. Hugs
redpenmamapgh
January 10, 2012 3:53 pm
huh. great minds (you & I) think alike?
I (obviously) didn’t go into this angle in my post because, yes, those people who are “ewww”ing this DO NOT UNDERSTAND. They don’t know how vital it is to touch and see your baby, to anchor him in the world by holding him. I’ll never forget my brother coming into my hospital room and taking Gabriel in his arms and rocking with him. Even though he was dead.
And now I’m crying. I may add this POV and a link here to my current post. if that’s okay? email me, or DM me. You make a strong point, here. thanks.
terra
January 10, 2012 6:34 pm
I have a problem any time any person criticizes the way another person grieves and this holds in this case as well. I hate when people criticize someone for not crying enough, or for smiling, or for touching the hand or body of their deceased someone. Grief is private, not fodder for media or criticism.