I just read something that gave me chills.

It was in a Q and A interview in the San Fran Chronicle with a writer named Ayelet Waldman who wrote “Bad Mother: A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, and Occasional Moments of Grace.”

Waldman’s previous claim to fame came from writing an essay in 2005 saying she loved her husband, the writer Michael Chabon, more than her children which got her on Oprah. (I hope her children can’t read.)

But as much as her saying that disturbed me, that’s nothing compared to the sad,
bold, and confused things she has to say about murdering her own child. This really disturbed me:

Q: How hard will it be to talk about your abortion on your book tour?

A: I don’t know how I’ll get through that. Of all the things I’ve revealed about myself, that’s the absolute scariest, not because I’m ashamed of it, but I feel horrible about that decision. I’m completely convinced that I did the right thing, and I’m completely convinced that I killed my baby and there was nothing wrong with him. It’s this duality, this horrible ambivalence.

But if there’s one woman who’s going through this alone and reads this essay and realizes it’s not her private agony, or it is but she shares this with other people, then it’s completely worth it.

What? At one moment she’s saying it’s emotional and scary and then she says she’s ambivalent.

This woman is obviously very sad and confused. I fear, however, that she’s more indicative of our time than we know.