Why Not Tweet A Miscarriage?
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Apparently, I'm one of the few people who read Penelope Trunk's now infamous tweet ("I'm in a board meeting. Having a miscarriage. Thank goodness, because there's a fucked-up 3-week hoop-jump to have an abortion in Wisconsin.") who wasn't even remotely bothered by it. I found it to be an elegant instance of the power of Twitter and the way people have learned to pack so much information into 140 characters. We as a culture applaud men who come up with choice quotes to describe death, courage, and war, but if a woman employs brevity to express relief at a miscarriage, suddenly there's an outcry against the dangers of getting to the point.
Trunk has rounded up some of the responses she received on Twitter, in blog comments, and on other blogs. Mainly, the scolding seemed to be focused on her tone. She was instructed to be sadder, or at least perform emotions she wasn't experiencing in order to placate those who want women to always be mindful that our reproductive functions are both disgusting and sacrosanct. She also got some anti-abortion sentimental nonsense, but Trunk understands that's just the most severe expression of the idea that women's bodies are both disgusting and sacrosanct. We as a nation are confused, and we expect women having "female troubles" to do a tap-dance around our confusion. Whether it's pregnancy, periods, miscarriage, or abortion, we're both supposed to adhere to the idea that the uterus is the most serious of organs (beating out the brain by a long shot), and to feel guilty and ashamed for being gross.
And it's not just women who don't want to be mothers right now who face this sort of nastiness. When I put the link of Trunk's retort onto Twitter, I got a response from a woman who told me her recent hellish story of flying while pregnant. She got her boarding pass, only to discover that they had put her in the dreaded center seat, which would have been OK if she weren't suffering from severe morning sickness exacerbated by the motion of the plane. When she politely asked her male seatmates if they would mind shuffling around so she could have the aisle, they acted disgusted that she even dare draw attention to her condition and refused. She did not say whether she punished them by using every slight bump of the plane as an excuse to get up and run to the bathroom, but I kind of hope she did.
When will we as a nation grow up and accept that the uterus is just another organ, even though it's an important one? Female owners of uteruses should be allowed to regard them as we do any other body part, as part of our subjective experience in life. If I break my leg, I'm permitted the right to define that experience, and if I felt a lot or a little pain and fear, no one will insist that I do some sort of kabuki of the emotions they want me to have. Why can't a miscarriage receive the same level of respect? Truth be told, I wish more women were open about their experiences with miscarriage. If the public at large had to face up to the fact that not every miscarriage is met with a vale of tears, that could have a dramatic impact on how we regard pregnancy, abortion, and women's diverse experiences with our reproductive functions.

Comments
Actually, it doesn't matter whether you're showing or not
By: ockeghem | Mon, 09/28/2009 - 15:19
As I'm now 37 weeks pregnant and ride public transit every day, I have a bit of experience with this, too. (Fortunately I have way too many frequent flier miles and have been able to choose my seat on my flights while pregnant.) I've been showing since my 5th month of pregnancy. By my 8th month, I was very, very obviously pregnant. Yet I still got into a verbal altercation with a guy who was trying to take the last seat on the subway for himself at the same time I was trying to sit. When I asked if he minded if I sat instead, since I was 8 months pregnant and exhausted, he said: "I can't tell whether you're pregnant." and just stared at me without getting up. Yeah, this giant beach ball sticking out my front? It's just a very tight beer gut.
Routinely, at least in my city, no one will get up even if they're sitting in the handicapped seats. Fine if they're elderly or actually handicapped, but often we're talking about language school or community college students doing their homework. I see them look up, straight at my belly, and then look down and avoid making eye contact so they don't have to feel guilty about refusing to give up their seat. And who knows, maybe they are actually handicapped in some way I can't see, so I don't want to assume anything. So even on days when I'm about to pass out from the heat of an overcrowded train & exhausted from the effort of walking up the hill to the subway station, I end up standing. I guess it's good for my endurance.
Some guy in town wrote into one of the subway papers recently, complaining about pregnant women expecting to be able to sit down instead of him. Well, sorry it's just an issue with my uterus, but for nine months I am actually not physically as well as he is. And yet I still have to go to work.
Have to say I think maybe the Europeans are better on this front. I was in London when I was at seven months. On the Tube, seats are explicitly set aside for elderly, handicapped AND pregnant patrons (in my city the signage is for "elderly & handicapped" only) -- so it makes it less impolite to ask someone to leave the seat. And I had no problem with people getting out of the seat for me. Of course, I doubt that it's only here in North America that we think pregnant women should be ashamed of their bodies or staying home.
Visibility
By: geml | Mon, 09/28/2009 - 12:24
As someone who has the odd circumstance of having been pregnant full term (with a case of morning sickness so bad that I entered ketosis), had a miscarriage, flown pregnant AND broken a leg so severely that it required two surgeries and crutches for six months and a full year of recovery, I can say with some certainty that it's all about visibility. The problem the woman on the plane had with morning sickness was that she didn't appear to be pregnant. (Morning sickness that awful is mostly at the beginning of the pregnancy, when the woman isn't showing.)
I was one of those women who had a pregnancy that sat back on my pelvis, and I literally did not show until nearly 8 and a half months. What was amusing, frustrating and kind of enlightening was how many people didn't believe that I WAS pregnant, especially when I was far enough along that they expected (pardon the pun) to be able to see the evidence for themselves. But once I started showing, everyone was pretty accomodating.
I similiar experience happened with my broken leg. The break was pretty bad, but because I opted for surgery and not a body cast (which were the only two choices) no one could see that I'd broken the leg. Yes, there was me limping along on one leg, but no cast, no cues. Heck! I could be FAKING!
On the subject of miscarriage, once I knew it was going to happen, I opted for the natural one rather than the D&C. When the pain began, I remember being outside talking to my neighbors. I have no idea what they said, because all I could think was "I'm going through a miscarriage and they have no idea because there is nothing to see." That I could be experinencing something so deep (and often violent, as the contractions were quite sharp at times) without another person even knowing reminded me again that we live in a sensual world and trust our senses first. Words are always suspect. (And I'm a writer!)