Reconnecting with South Carolina

'Morning. Leaving Dulles airport, just outside of Washington...

Forgiveness. For some reason, the word just popped into my head as our plane lifted off from Dulles and we left snow covered D.C. for Columbia, SC, where the snow flakes were replaced by puffs of fog over the tree tops.

Why am I thinking about forgiveness?

I thought to myself, and I remembered that the last time I tried to fly into Columbia I had just returned to work from maternity leave. It was the presidential election four years ago, and I had scraped together as much vacation, sick and maternity leave as I could. (It amounted to 14 weeks, but I was worried that if I stayed out any longer, I would become irrelevant. I would have no role in the coverage and would have to fight my way in ... same as I had to do, however, many years before when I was just starting out.) So, torn between two desires, I went back to work, but was still breastfeeding and reluctant to make the trip. I frankly wasn't sure I could both keep the rigorous shooting schedule and stay on track with the pumping. Also, an ice storm was scheduled for the area; a producer was already there, and she said that not only did she think she could handle the shoot without me, she wasn't sure I would even make it in. I took the question to my boss and he was clear. Go.

On his side, I think he thought he was doing the right thing for both the show and me -- getting me back in the mix and making sure the work load was evenly distributed. But my producer was right and the storm came in while we were in the air. The hour and a half trip turned into three hours (and it was a small plane with no place to use my pump). To add insult to injury, the plane turned around and went back to Washington.

So, exhausted, engorged, in pain and angry, I went home without ever having made it to South Carolina, and filled with questions about every decision I had made about my life. And then, I found I couldn't keep up the pumping at work; the environment too stressful and the hours too unpredictable. For years afterward, every time my daughter's eczema broke out, I would blame myself and that stupid trip for my not being able to keep her on breast milk.

Of course, some people will say this is why women with young kids shouldn't work, or whatever. But that's another conversation for another day. What occurred to me, though, was, how, without even thinking about it, really, life had intervened to offer another perspective. The person who sent me on that trip, who so infuriated me that day, has gone on to many trials that none of us could have ever foreseen.

I have taken on responsibilities that have challenged me in ways I never expected, have caused hurt feelings, and have said no to people who wanted me to say yes. And so, I find myself wanting forgiveness in ways that I never expected. So how could I do any less than let go of my anger? ... And that lead me to think about all the things we, as Americans, could stand to forgive each other for. As we descended into Columbia I wondered who could ask, who could accept, and who would be the one to take the first step...

Michel Martin

9:30 AM ET | 01-19-2008 | permalink

comments | | e-mail

9:30 AM ET | 01-19-2008 | permalink