I remember, as a teenage boy, working at a pizza restaurant in Del City, Oklahoma. One of the assistant managers was a young woman not much older than me named Alicia, who became pregnant by her boyfriend. She decided to keep the baby despite her fears (the boyfriend was not going to step up, from my remembrance), and as the days passed her fear slowly transformed to excitement. She talked about what she would name the baby, what she would do for the baby. She showed us booties she had knitted. One day she excused herself to go the bathroom and came out not very much later, in tears. She had miscarried, there and then. I remember not knowing what to say, how to comfort her. (Fortunately there were others, more emotionally skilled, on the scene.)
What a tragedy, and what burdens of pain so many of us carry around inside, secretly or not so secretly, but with nowhere to ground them.
