Uppercase Woman

Healthcare or lack thereof

OK. So it is NOT in my plans to write about politics every single day, but when life hands you annoying fucking situations that are factoring heavily in the current Presidential race, what can I do?

So, as I mentioned a few weeks back, I have this lump on my hand. It's between my thumb and forefinger on my left hand, right at the joint in the center, neither palm side or top side--literally the center. My doctor looked at it (she's actually a nurse practitioner; I adore NPs) and while she didn't think it's anything to worry about, she suggested I see a bone/hand doctor.

So, I call the bone/hand doctor and schedule an appointment. But wait! I completely forget that I've changed insurance plans from my "fail safe" see-any-doctor-you-want plan ("fail safe" meaning the one plan my state requires by law to take all comers that can afford the premiums; they can, however, still refuse to cover pre-existing conditions). Why did I change plans? Because my policy was going to be increased $180 a month merely because I had the audacity to become forty years old. So I joined my local chamber of commerce (as a sole proprietor of my business) so that my whole family could get their group coverage, saving us about $400 a month in premiums.

We still pay over $1,000 a month. That's more than $12,000 a year, just for the record. A quarter of our income, and slightly more than we pay for our home. That $5,000 a year tax credit John McCain talks about? Would cover less than half our health care costs.

So, I schedule an appointment with the bone/hand doc my NP recommends. But wait! Because of my new policy I needed a referral. So I cancel and reschedule my first appointment, call my doctor's office--who has someone on staff JUST to process referrals, which I'm sure they are THRILLED about having to pay for and pass the costs on accordingly--and wait a week. At last I arrive at the hand doctor's office with my referral in hand and... I can't both see the doctor AND get an x-ray of my hand because the referral only covers the doctor appointment. I need a separate referral to be allowed to have an x-ray.

But I go ahead and see the doctor who gets to diagnose me just from good old fashioned prodding (ow). The doctor suspects either a ganglion cyst (although the placement is odd) or possibly a giant cell tumor (which only happens in one out of a million people, so you KNOW I have it, right? I mean, preeclampsia only happens in <5% of pregnancies, and placental abruption only happens in <1% of pregnancies, and I've had BOTH. Lucky me). They can't aspirate it to check like they would a normal ganglion cyst because it's too close to a nerve bundle.

AWESOME.

So, next step is an MRI. Which requires pre-certification, which as far as I can tell is just more meaningless paperwork someone is paid to do. When the bone/hand doctor's office attempts to get said pre-certification, they are informed that my insurance company does not know who my primary care physician is (even though I told them when I signed up), so they cannot tell the bone/hand doctor's office which MRI scanning center I am "capped" to. Capped (short for capitated) means, basically, restricted to--if I want them to cover said MRI, that is.

I happen, sadly, to have huge claustrophobia issues, meaning it took three tries and valium (which, I assure you, this addict does NOT take without extreme need) to get an MRI of my brain for my migraines. However, if I am "capped" to the health care system  associated with my primary care physician and the bone/hand doc, then I will NOT have access to an open MRI machine, only a "large" one that "helps" claustrophobes like me (and if you think I'm exaggerating, just the thought of the regular MRI machine makes me want to throw up and makes me shake).

Additionally, I had to pay a $20 co-pay to have my NP initially examine my hand, a $40 co-pay for the bone/hand doc, and will have to pay an $80 co-pay for the MRI itself. Plus another $40 co-pay to see the bone/hand doc again to get MRI results. Plus whatever co-pay or deductable I'll need to meet to cover surgery, should I need it. And it will take months, of course, for this all to resolved AND my insurance company could decide NONE of it is covered because I foolishly saw my NP when I first found the lump in my hand--a full  week BEFORE the new coverage started.

All this, and I'm not even really SICK.

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So. Tell me, exactly, how this is BETTER than univeral health care? Because I can't see it.

Political Parenting

A couple of nights ago I was watching the evening news with my daughter cuddling next to me (pretending she's interested in the news, when she's really just waiting for it to end so she can watch Dora), Tori pointed to the screen and said, "Who's that?" It was John McCain. And without even thinking about it, I said, "Oh honey, that's John McCain, a bad man that's running for President."

Sigh.

Luckily, my daughter is only 2 years old; the chance of her remembering that I called a possible President of our country a "bad man" is pretty fucking slim. But I do NOT want to be the kind of parent that teaches her child to vilify those that don't agree with her. I've worked looooong and hard on my ability to shut up and listen, to set aside my strong personal beliefs and values to listen to what others are saying to me from their own hearts, and I want to impart THAT to my daughter.

Of course, my ability to listen (my limited ability; there are many times I fail) to opposing view points without anger and rancor has only come via force. When I first started talking about the political implications of the way I lost my sons the very first day I was home from the hospital, I was immediately confronted with people that disagreed with me, and many of them disagreed in a way that was hardly respectful or tolerant. But because they weren't standing in front of me I couldn't punch them in the face; instead, I emailed them back something equally nasty, and they emailed me back, and we went back and forth a bunch of times until--suddenly--a tiny bit of common ground was found and we finally found a way to listen to each other. Many of us have actually grown to be friends. Really!

That is not something I can teach to my daughter. That is something Tori will have to learn for herself. But I can give her a firm ground to start on by teaching her that everyone's opinion is valid, even when those opinions seem crazy to her incredibly liberal mommy.

This weekend I spoke with two women--one at a 3 year old neighbor's birthday party, and another at the playground--who confessed that they are politically ignorant, and they just vote the way their husbands do. Yes, in 2008. I was not put into a wayback machine (one mom that I actually like a lot confessed it with chagrin).

*deep breath*

One of the reasons I want to teach Tori compassion for different view points is because, after all, there may come a day where she disagrees with ME. Above all, I want to teach my daughter independence of thought. I never want my daughter to claim that she just votes the way I do, or her husband does, or her wife does, or her father does. I want my daughter to be fully politically educated--in fact, I want to teach her that becoming politically educated is her RESPONSIBILITY. I want her to form her own opinions.

So from now on, when I discuss politics with my darling girl, I'm going to keep my tongue in check and just state the facts. If she wants to know what I think, well, I'll wait for her to ask.

How are you handling this highly charged political season with your kids? Obviously if your child is older than Tori it probably requires a defter hand. I'd love to hear your stories. Because I see the potential for doing harm here (as in so many different areas of parenting I didn't expect. sigh).

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These last few days have thrown me for a bit of a loop here on my blog. One the one hand--oh, let's go with the right one, since that's my writing hand--the writer in me is honored, a bit amazed, and frankly pretty jazzed by the amount of new readers that have come by because of my last two posts.

Then of course there is my brain and its ten-years-of-working-in-marketing that immediately begins rubbing its hands together and cackling like a mad scientist, thinking about how I can use this as a launch pad to that loftiest of dreams, Making A Living Blogging About My Completely Average Life.

But the loudest voice, the one connected to my left hand for continuity's sake (is that the creative side? or the rational side? whatevah), is a tiny bit overwhelmed. Because, my dear new readers, I am just not all that interesting on a daily basis. Ask my old readers. I often blog about my daughter (who, while I think she is pretty spectacular, is just another kid to the rest of the world). Or my marriage. Or movies and television. So I have to say, please don't expect brilliant political posts from me on a daily basis. Or brilliant anything posts. Sometimes I just write about the shit in my head. After all, isn't that what blogging is all about?

So, welcome (hi!), but beware. I'm just your average East Coast liberal elitist that is completely smitten with her two-year-old; in other words, a mommy blogger. Don't be shocked, m'kay?

As Apple Fucking Pie

I've been thinking lately about my panic last month--you know, the one where I felt that there would soon be no place left for me in this country and that I'd have to move to Canada, especially if Obama lost the election. I no longer feel this way; in fact, even if McCain/Palin win this election (and, oh, how it pains me to even type that), I am going NOWHERE. Because you know what? THIS IS MY COUNTRY.

When I read about Sarah Palin telling folks in North Carolina that only they are "pro-American" or when I watch the truly horrifying clip of Minnesota Congresswoman Michelle Bachman on Hardball calling for the investigation of the "anti-American" members of congress (meaning, of course, the Democrats) including OBAMA, I realized something.

These are the more blatant examples of the shit we liberals have been fed for years--since McCarthy, really. This idea that we liberals are somehow not patriotic, not right, not really part of this nation is a Cold War leftover, a fabrication. Before McCarthy, no one who dissented was called "Un-American." Before McCarthy, being a Socialist--hell, being a Communist--was considered a perfectly acceptable point of view. Not now. Now, I'm called un-American simply because I think I should retain control of my own body.

I've internalized this message to some extent--this war on dissent--and it manifested in my "threat" to move to Canada. But you know what? Moving to Canada would please those like Michelle Bachman no end--get rid of us annoying liberals! Export us! Send us to other nations like the way we send our trash to China!

I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE.

I live in Philadelphia, an East Coast city with a metro area population exceeding five million--hardly small town America--and I am a true American.

I read the New York Times. I read Newsweek. I watch Katie Couric. Hell, I even listen to National Public Radio. Sometimes I even read press from overseas.

I believe firmly that gays should get married, or have civil unions (if they prefer), and have exactly the same rights that I do as a heterosexual. In fact, I think if you live in California, you should vote NO on Prop 8.

I think we should have socialized medicine--and I'd happily pay more taxes to get it.

I believe the Patriot Act is anything BUT patriotic, and feel strongly that the government has no right whatsoever to listen to my phone calls--or yours.

I believe abortion should remain safe, legal, and rare. I believe birth control should be distributed everywhere, to anyone who wants it. I believe children and teenagers should be educated about how their bodies work and how they can prevent STDs and unwanted pregnancies.

I believe our President should be smart, well-educated, a thinker, someone who might be called ELITE. Because I believe firmly that only the best and brightest of us should be sitting in the White House. Not someone I want as a friend, or a drinking buddy, or a person I can imagine fishing with.

Sure, sometimes I get dismayed and depressed about where I see our country going. But it's MY country too, and there is nothing fucking wrong with me or how I think or what I believe and I AM SICK AND TIRED OF BEING TOLD THAT THERE IS.

I am the daughter of a hippy feminist that taught me how to march in the streets, and I am the daughter of a Vietnam war veteran. I am the wife of an atheist, but I go to church regularly. I curse on my blog like a motherfucking sailor, but I am raising my daughter with kindness and dignity. I am an alcoholic that doesn't drink anymore, I am fat, I am a woman that had to terminate a pregnancy, I didn't quite manage to finish college, I am a mother, I am a wife, I AM AN AMERICAN.

Do you hear me? I am a pro-choice East Coast liberal elitist and I am PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN. Stop saying I'm not.

Dear John McCain:

I've thought long and hard about what to say to you after watching your discussion about abortion on last night's debate. I'll be honest; I have never considered voting for you. I am beyond a doubt a tax-and-spend and let-the-gays-get-married liberal. But you know what? I've always liked you. I've found your appearances on The Daily Show to be amusing, and even though we don't agree on much, I always thought of you as a smart, compassionate, and friendly person. I've managed through this election to even hold on to a shred of respect for you, even while I am personally inundated with negative ads from your campaign because I live in a swing state. This is partially because you are I were much more politically in line back when you ran for President in 2000, and throughout this campaign I've always imagined that in some way you were playing a role as a far right-wing conservative, and that in fact, you were personally much more moderate.

But when you discussed your feelings about partial birth abortion during the debate last night, your true opinions became clear to me. You really are a social conservative; it was in 2000 that you were playing a role. When you discussed partial birth abortion and used quotes around the "health" of a mother, claiming that the idea of preserving a woman's health has been "stretched" so that woman can just go ahead and abort babies willy-nilly whenever they want showed your true colors. You really ARE a small-minded anti-choice hater of women.

You've bought the propaganda. Even if I tell you that late term abortions make up only one fifth of 1% of ALL abortions that happen in this country, and that they are performed universally only in cases of extreme risk to the mother or lack of viability for the child, you won't believe me. In your mind, women like me are sluts that got what we deserve, and changed our minds at the last minute when the reality of a baby became clear. If I tell you that the day my doctor performed my life-saving medical termination of my pregnancy was the worst day of his professional career, in your mind he's a callous murderer willing to kill children.

Watching you speak last night felt like getting punched in the face. I've become used to the rare individual being so callous and ill-informed; but to think a man so close to becoming the leader of this nation thinks so little of women like me--was just...God.

Awful. Heartbreaking. Horrifying.

You clearly believe women like me--women who were horribly, horribly sick from their pregnancies but not yet dying--don't deserve the medical care we need to help us heal. You may think this issue is about saving the lives of babies, but it's not. It's about preventing women from receiving necessary medical care.

In my case, Senator, where would you have drawn the line? At what point were my doctors and I not stretching the definition of my "health"? When we terminated the pregnancy, or should we have waited until I was sicker? Say, when I lost my kidney function permanently? Or perhaps when I had a seizure so severe that it caused a stroke and brain damage? Or maybe when my heart was damaged by my out-of-control blood pressure?

By your standards, when could my doctors have intervened?

But most of all, Senator, you do not even care about how much I loved my sons, or that the day you chose to be so cruel to women like me was National Pregnancy And Infant Loss Awareness Day. That only an hour before you spoke I was writing, once again, about the loss of my sons and how much it has changed my life. Because I'm not important. I don't matter. And in your mind, I quite possibly don't even exist.

I'll have you know that I have worked very, very hard to not swear in this letter to you. Maybe if I leave out the nasty language, you'll actually be able to hear what I'm saying. But I doubt it. I don't matter to you. Women don't matter to you.

So you know what? Forget about not swearing. I'll end this with how I really feel.

Fuck you, Senator McCain. Fuck you.

The M Word

Yesterday Susan left this comment on my blog:

"Call it what you want to make yourself sleep at night Cecily, but partial birth abortion is murder. It's not a political issue...it is a human rights issue. For someone who is "constantly sticking up for the little guy", you sure could care less about the life of a innocent child. Delete if you want...the truth still remains."

I did delete the comment, but then I thought about it a bit and kind of wished I hadn't. Then I got really fired up; I could see from her IP address that she'd never been to my blog before yesterday, and that she'd never read more than a couple entries. So it was clear to me that she doesn't know my story (she didn't even click over to my "about" page), so she doesn't realize that she just called me a murderer. Then I got REALLY mad.

But in talking to my friend Dave, I calmed down. Dave, in his infinite wisdom, pointed out that Susan did NOT in fact call me a murderer; she said partial birth abortion is murder and there is, in fact, a difference. So I will cut her some slack. But as I prepare to watch Sarah Palin and her "I'll council rape victims to choose life" debate tonight, I find that I do have something I need to say.

So, Susan, let me say this to you. Since you clearly don't know my story, you may not realize that my life was saved by a surgical procedure that falls under the umbrella of the partial birth abortion ban. It happened four years ago this month, before the ban was upheld by the Supreme Court. You probably don't know about my sons Nicholas and Zachary, and how badly I wanted them, and how much I miss them today. You certainly don't know about my harrowing hospital experience, my severe preeclampsia, my near brush with death, or how my doctor cried while he performed the procedure that saved my life and killed my surviving son.

You certainly don't know about how, alone in my room that night feeling like nothing more than an empty womb, I cried and cried in a far corner of the maternity ward, away from the happy new moms. I was so lonely and sad; even the nurses stayed away from me. You don't know about the months of horribly post-partum depression, the agony I felt when my milk came in with no babies to nurse, the desire to start using drugs again to kill the pain despite my years of sobriety, or the fear that plagued me through the pregnancy with my daughter.

You don't know how every single time my daughter giggles, I thank God for saving my life so she could be born. You don't know how much, every day, I miss my sons and wish my daughter could know them.

So I'll forgive you for showing up here, on my blog, and issuing bold statements about a subject you know nothing about. But do know this: I sleep at night just fucking fine.

Gently Into Fall

In an hour or so, at 11:44 EST to be exact, it will officially be fall. Here in Philadelphia, it's felt very fall-like for a couple of weeks now (we actually had an incredibly mild summer too), but it's only been in the last few says that we've gotten that gorgeous fall light: thick, amber colored, and with long shadows.

Back when I was considering becoming a Wiccan (before I realized that I had just enough Christianity in me to make it never feel quite right--not that I think it's wrong, just not right for me), I really loved the various states of the Goddess: spring, of course, was the Maiden, young and beautiful; winter was the Crone--wise and elderly.

But summer and fall were the season of the Mother, a woman in her prime with full breasts and hips, a few lines around her eyes, and the awesome ability to not really care if there are stains on her shirt or if her hair has seen better days. She's smart, beautiful, and able to multi-task with grace.OK--maybe that's just MY interpretation. Heh.

Obviously, I identify with this image of the Goddess; I have the confidence that comes with a few years of experience, yet I'm still ripe and in my prime. There is a wholeness in my heart that I didn't have when I was younger, and for some reason, the first day of fall reminds me of that. Crisp, clean, and golden light extending tall shadows.

And, of course, weather warm enough to be outside when there are a whole lot fewer bugs.

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So, why am I waxing poetic about fall? Truth be told, I woke up with a bit of Bloggers Block (blogock? blogoblock? blog cock? what?), so I turned to a tool that I learned about at PodCampPhilly, a social media "unconference" I went to a couple weekends ago. And if that all sounded like gibberish to you, I don't blame you. Here's the breakdown: a "unconference" is a conference that is scheduled (as far as time and place), but doesn't search for speakers/session leaders--individuals sign up to speak or run a session on their own. Social Media is everything on the Internet that has a community--Twitter, Facebook, bulletin boards, and, of course, blogs. OK?

Anyway, this guy (who gave such a great presentation!) mentioned Google Trends, in which Google tells you what people are talking about on the internets. While it can mostly be the names of various sports stars, sometimes it mentions something that might make an interesting topic here--like, for instance, the first day of fall. It's like a Blog Block Buster. Heh.

So, blame Google for my above rambling. Although I do love the fall, so I might have written that anyway (but I wouldn't have remembered that today is the equinox without prompting).

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Guess what? I have a new client. It's going to take a while for me to get the load of work from them I need/want (I have to prove myself first), but I feel confident that it will happen by the end of the year. I don't want to be too specific, but it's basically fun writing--interviews, synopsis, ad copy--about books and authors. I can't wait to get started!

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Other cool things on Google Trends today that could have warranted their own blog posts:

• This story is beautiful. Doesn't the idea of the guns falling silent for a day make your heart sing with hope? I wish I'd known at church yesterday, I would have mentioned it.
• The Emmys and politics.
• This fascinating story about how 'enlightened' men tend to earn less--just like women. In other words, men that are crazy enough to believe that women should get equal pay and have equal rights tend to earn less than men that believe in more 'traditional' roles for women. So income breaks down like this, most to least: misogynists, non-misogynist men, women that believe in equal rights, and, coming up last, women that believe in more 'traditional' gender roles. No wonder so many folks hold on to misogynist values--it fucking pays more.

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I almost forgot! If you are Philly-area mommy blogger and you haven't already heard from me about the sneak preview of the new Please Touch Museum, please email me. Cause I have the hook-up. :)

Stranger To My Country

First of all, I am terribly worried for all of you in Hurricane Ike's path. While you probably won't see this, since you are all fleeing (you are fleeing, right? Or safe already, I hope? Please don't stay there!), know my prayers are with you and your families.
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The latest political controversy--this stupid fucking "lipstick on a pig" flap--has once again caused me to be completely enraged. First of all, the whole concept of the Republicans crying sexism over this flap--claiming that Obama was thinking of Palin as the lipsticked pig--is so completely and utterly hypocritical that it defies reason. After all, here's a clip of McCain calling Hillary Clinton's economic plan "lipstick on a pig" and Rachel Maddow (oh, how I adore Rachel Maddow) had a group of seven or eight clips of McCain using the phrase.

But what bothers me the most about it, is that I just know that someone, somewhere is buying this spun crap and thinking to themselves, "See, Obama really is a sexist. Maybe I'd better vote for McCain since he at least picked a woman for a running mate."

*head explodes*

But I realize, after I calm down, that my real problem is something totally different.

My real problem--my deepest, darkest fear--is that very soon there will be no place for me in this country. Or worse, if my daughter follows in my political footsteps, no place for her. That the conservative trend that has swept through this nation in the last thirty years--since Reagan was president--is going to continue to swell and grow, and soon, I will be on the wrong side.

This is why I get so angry. This is why I lie awake at night worrying about politics. This is why this election--more so than any other--feels to me to be the end of the line. If Obama loses, and another right wing war monger wins (and yes, I'm sorry, but that is how I see McCain) then this nation will no longer be my home.

Sarah and I have been looking at real estate in Canada. No, really. I know some of you think that leaving means I'm abandoning my country, but that's not true at all--I feel like my country has abandoned me. I'm a free speech loving, civil liberties adoring, peaceful, pro-choice, pro gay liberal with socialist leanings. Where would I fit in to a John McCain/ Sarah Palin America?

I feel like I've stayed and fought. I really do. This last eight years has been TORTURE for me. Watching our servicemen and women die in Iraq and Afghanistan primarily for, as far as I can tell, Dick Cheney and his cronies to put more money in their coffers. Watching the complete and utter erosion of our civil liberties--I mean, THEY TAPPED OUR PHONES (and yes, I know Obama voted to allow that and it makes me sad) and arrested people and put them away without a trial. Watching women's rights be slowly whittled away. Watching a Supreme Court hand-picked by the richest people in our country allow cities and states to just take away our property with the eminent domain laws. To learn that the majority of people in my country support the erosion of the separation of church and state.

It has been truly awful.

I don't see how I could stay here, how I could raise my child with my morals in a country that finds my particular moral values abhorrent. How I can stay in a country that is reviled by the rest of the world. A country that has chosen to owe its soul (and my daughter's future paychecks) to China and other nations to fund this war (this is the only war that didn't cause a rise in taxes--even though I know I would have been happy to pay a bit extra to not have our nation go so deeply in debt, even though I opposed the war).

I just finished reading a science fiction novel--written in 1995--that described a world where California is its own nation and the rest of the country becomes Christian 'Merkka. It should have seemed absurd, yet it didn't. It seems inevitable.

This country has become so divided--fanned by the flames of shrieking pundits filling the 24 hour new networks (God, if we could just outlaw punditry maybe this country would be able to heal and people could develop their own opinions based on FACTS)--that I cannot fathom it being healed into one solid nation again. I really can't. All I see is a nation that is half disenfranchised, no matter who wins.

God, it's too early in the morning for me to be so bitter.

The only thin thread that give me hope is this blog. The fact that so many of us, with such divergent opinions, have been able to find common ground in mothering and wanting to mother. If we can do it, maybe the rest of the nation can. But the truth is, even though we've found peace here, I doubt that most of my conservative readers would want to live in the same nation that I would find ideal. So I find myself, once again, feeling frustrated and isolated.

Admittedly, I only feel this way a little most of the time. The elections have just heightened everything to a level where I feel like I don't fit in, here, in the nation of my birth anymore. And I don't know what to do about it.

I wanted to end this entry on a positive note--I don't like being this negative--but I can't seem to find one this morning. How do I find hope? How do I find my way to healing? How do I stay here, in this country I love so very, very much--from the deserts of my birth to the green, rolling mountains of the state I now call home--without feeling like a liberal outlaw? I don't know. I really just don't know.

Just A Sunday Night Giggle

Perspective

Yesterday, as Tori's wonderful babysitter was leaving the house for the last time--this lovely young woman that spent the whole summer making our lives better--she told me that she was conservative. Then she went on to say that her husband, who is studying to be a physician's assistant, had "reviewed" my case here on my blog and that something wasn't right about my story of losing the twins.

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I managed to keep my head from exploding. I told her that probably what he didn't understand is that my doctor first tried to treat my pre-eclampsia to see if there would come a point where it could be medically managed so that my surviving son could stay with me until he was viable. That as a result of that, the disease got ahead of all of us, leaving just the one option to save my life. I tried to point out that the government interfering there, in my hospital room, was a great example of "big" government. I gently plead my case for voting against McCain. 

But I don't think she believed me. I don't think that anything I could say would make her vote differently.

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Am I afraid of people that don't vote like me? I was accused of such in the comments to my last post. Maybe I am. Actually, I know that I am. It's a very strange, sometimes, being me. I get emails every so often from someone who tells me that I'm a selfish bastard, that I should have died with my twins, usually some passionately pro-life very, very, very young person that has stumbled across my blog. When I mention losing the twins to someone in person--not often, these days, only when someone really pushes--they ask questions, questions that I could easily construe as being mean or judgmental. You have no idea how often Charlie has to walk away from a conversation about the boys.

So yes, sometimes, I find myself filled with fear that when it becomes Tori's turn to be a mom, she won't be protected in the same way I was. That if someone votes differently from me, that will never change. There is also a very, very good chance that I take politics very personally. Because, well--it IS personal.

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When I finished reading my emails this morning, I was furious. People who come to this blog often, people I really like, said some pretty harsh things about me. Before this post, I had a loooooong angry post written. I even sent some angry emails back to some folks. There is no doubt that when it comes to this election, I'm finding perspective to be a slippery fish. Even harder to find is my sense of humor. If I had a better sense of humor, I might have been able to let the comment calling me sexist for calling Hillary supporters "rabid" go (it's sexist because dogs get rabies, and female dogs are bitches, so I called some people bitches, apparently). I might have been able to make a funny joke about how, actually, the critters that get rabies now are mostly bats and raccoons (and how rabies has no gender preference), and let it go. But no. I sent a terse and angry email back.

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I am beginning to understand why most "mommy" bloggers don't talk about politics. It gets rough. Normally, this blog is a peaceful place where everyone feels they can share their opinion, as long as they don't do it in an angry and hateful way.

Maybe I've been a bit angry and hateful lately. But you know what? This is my blog. And sometimes, I get to be an asshole here. I hope that those that have found me offensive in these last few days can find a way to be as tolerant of my different point of view as I am of theirs--most days.

But I don't think I can take any more comments calling me stupid. I think, if people can't allow me a little venting space here on my own blog, I might have to start doing some comment moderation (and I've closed comments on the last post). Because, frankly, I'm not that strong. I can't really take being kicked over and over. Sometimes I have to kick back.

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Try to have a good holiday weekend, folks.

Is it morning already? Political Hangover

So, I couldn't sleep again last night. First just because I was winding down from Obama's speech, and then because the dogs we're babysitting kept barking (finally closed the windows--that fixed it). Woke up at 10:30 this morning in a panic--oh my God, we missed the babysitter! Tori slept until 10:30? Where is Tori! She's not in her crib! Ohmygodohmygodoh--wait. Is that Tori outside with the babysitter? Yeah. I totally slept through Charlie getting up, taking Tori downstairs, feeding her, the babysitter arriving, and Charlie coming back to bed.

Sheesh.

Then I set up my breakfast (yogurt and blueberries), grab some caffeine, and SHIT. McCain chose a woman?????

Way too much panic for my little brain.

So, quickly, did some research on this Palin character. Here's what I've learned about her so far:

1. Her first name is the same as my BFF's: Sarah. And right there is where the similarities end between the two.

2. She was Mayor of a small town (Wasilla) in Alaska, and served as Ethics Commissioner of the state's Oil and Gas Conservation Commission. Her husband is an oil production operator.

3. She supports--STRONGLY--drilling for oil in Alaska's wildlife refuges. Incidentally--McCain is opposed.

4. She has five children. Her fifth child has Down's Syndrome.

5. She is passionately anti-choice.

6. She beat entrenched politicians to become Governor of Alaska. She's considered a political outsider.

7. She apparently fired Alaska's Public Safety Commissioner after becoming Governor because he refused to fire a particular state trooper. That state trooper was in a custody battle with her sister. This is still under investigation.

8. Lifetime member of the National Rifle Association, and hunts and fishes.

9. She's a protestant.

10. I don't want her anywhere near running our country.

All info except for point #10 taken from here and here. #10 was taken from my heart.

Wow, McCain. Way to kill my convention buzz, dude. What I fear is that those rabid Hillary supporters who insist they will vote for McCain rather than vote for Obama because of what happened during the primaries can see past their anger and LOOK AT THE GODDAMNED POLICIES. Because ultimately, it's about POLICY and not PEOPLE.

Remember, rabid Hillary supporters: anger and resentment is like holding hot coals in your hands and waiting for it to burn the other person. Holding on to your anger at Obama, however, and voting for McCain, is going to burn the entire fucking country. Particularly those of us with ovaries.

However, I do want to note that already Ms. Palin is suffering from sexism--apparently, Twitter is alight with people calling her a VPILF because she's beautiful. THAT IS FUCKING WRONG. KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF. If it was a man, no one would be discussing how fuckable he is.

...

In an attempt to recapture last night's high after listening to Obama speak, let's just review a couple of highlights, shall we?

I loved the quote about how McCain "won't even follow him to his cave" about Osama Bin Laden. Love what he said about equal pay. Loved his quote about "if you don't have new ideas, you use stale tactics." Loved what he said about guns--"don't tell me we can't keep guns out of the hands of criminals." I loved what he said about equal pay.

Overall, however, I didn't find his speech last night as compelling as Joe Biden's the night before, or as good as some of his others. I thought is was safe (for instance, I would have liked a bit more about the 45th anniversary of MLK's "I have a dream" speech, but that might remind certain Americans that Obama is BLACK). But I also thought it was at least a bit more specific, which he needed to do.

But even if it wasn't his best speech ever, IT'S STILL SO GODDAMNED WONDERFUL TO SEE A POLITICIAN THAT CAN SPEAK ELOQUENTLY AND WARMLY AND GRACEFULLY. I know all politicians lie. But damn it, when they do it, I want to be fucking seduced by the lies. George Bush seduced in much the same way as those stupid frat boys used to hit on me at the bar back when I was young and hot--poorly, and when I said no, called me a dyke.

Obama? Well, I would have gone home with Obama.

So what did you think? Both of Palin and last night. Let's hear it.

Fired Up

Last night I tossed and turned and couldn't get to sleep until after 3am. I was all fired up from the evening's events.

Yesterday I headed into the city for a "tweet-up," meaning a gathering of local Twitter aficionados. It's basically a social networking event with some business elements tossed in there--almost everyone who attends is in some sort of marketing-related field so they all either do what I do or are looking for people that do what I do. Which is awesome.

But what I really love about it is the camaraderie and community; it gives me just a tiny dose of what I got at BlogHer on a local level. It's also not dissimilar from what I get from recovery meetings; everyone at the tweet-up and BlogHer is just as digitally addicted as I am, and no one thinks the guy that has a busy job but shows up to have a beer with us (no, I didn't have a beer, don't be silly) but works on his laptop at the same time is rude. It's awesome.

Plus, for fuck's sake, it's so nice to talk to ADULTS. About fun stuff, like our city, and restaurant reviews, and the suburbs, and politics, and even--yes--parenting. I forget sometimes how much I get out of that kind of social interaction, and frankly, since I've been working from home it's been pretty damned rare. In fact, for the five years BEFORE I worked from home, I didn't really have that either, since I worked at a college and I spent my days with 20 year olds.

Even before THAT, I never attended events like these in a relaxed and comfortable way. I was a marketing person or a public relations person so I was always representing the organization I worked for so I carefully covered my tattoos and spoke gently and only on safe subjects, and I certainly never ever said motherfucker.

At the tweet-up last night, I said motherfucker. Like at least four times. AND my ink was showing. It was fabulous.

The other reason I couldn't sleep is that I listened to Joe Biden's speech (I missed Bill Clinton, damn it) and well, WOW. I've always liked him--with the exception of the time around the Clarence Thomas hearings--and I knew he was smart, funny, and eloquent. But I didn't expect to be so, I don't know, ROUSED by his speech. I felt so excited listening to him, as I did when I listened to Hillary the night before. So joyful. So hopeful. So fucking AMERICAN.

It was awesome. I cannot wait until Obama's speech tonight. I might live blog it, although you all might find that annoying. Heh. Perhaps I'll just twit during the speech (meaning, I'll post comments to Twitter). Yeah. That's what I'll do. If you want, you can follow me on Twitter. My sign in is Cecilyk. But fair warning: Twittering is AWESOME and TOTALLY ADDICTIVE. Heh.

One Issue Voter

My friend Griffin once said to me, "Everyone is, when you come right down to it, a one-issue voter." I don't know if that's true, but I will agree that everyone has at least one issue that is critical to them.

Many of you (gently) accused me of being a one-issue voter, and it's simply not true. While the issue of choice is, of course, very high up there on the list of things that matter to me there are many, many, MANY other issues that factor heavily into my voting preferences. Just to prove it, here are a few that I think are critical.

1. Health Care. I believe we need socialized medicine. Yes, I do. Yes, I know that many who participate in socialized medicine--whether in Canada or here in the US as a military family--have complaints and say, "It's not great medical care." I don't want to be harsh, but you know what? That argument is one of intense fucking privilege. You may think you aren't getting the "best" care, but you do not know what it is like to be a small child, sitting up in her bed at night while her mother pounds her back trying to help her breath, knowing that your mother is freaking out because you need to go to the emergency room--again-- and you have no insurance. You can't imagine what it's like to be the mother who has to decide, "Is she really sick enough to take in?" I spent much of my childhood that way. My asthma was completely unmanaged as a child, so I spent a huge amount of time in crisis at Emergency Rooms. If we'd had insurance, guess what? I could have been taking an inexpensive medication that had been available since the 50's that would have prevented most of my asthma attacks. So, you know what? You're "socialized medicine is mediocre health care" argument has NO SWAY with me. Mediocre health care beats NO health care, hands down, every time. Not only that, but even mediocre health care SAVES a ton of money! Do you know how much less it would have cost for me to go to regular doctor visits instead of our frequent ER trips? It's insane. The argument is completely illogical.

Additionally, one of my commenters said to me that she's been misdiagnosed and dismissed by doctors as part of the military health care system. I'll tell you what I told her; insurance doesn't help that, sadly. Even with the "best" (according to several reviewing sites, that's what I have, only because in my state that is the "fail safe" coverage and I could not be refused) health insurance available today, I've been treated badly, misdiagnosed and ignored by doctors (everyone remember the endocrinologist that couldn't bring herself to touch me because of my fatness? And she refused to treat my insulin resistance? Yeah). I can't even really blame the doctors, honestly (well, maybe once in a while). Doctors are working under shitty fucking conditions these days with health care plans that dictate they never give more than ten minutes a patient. Plus, they have to pay such a high malpractice insurance rate (particularly in my state; in ten years, we won't have any OB/GYNs left at the rate they are leaving our area) they can hardly manage to pay off their exorbitant medical school bills.

Our Health Care system--while innovative--is NOT FUNCTIONAL. I believe it is critical that our next president does something about the 45 million people in this country that do NOT have health insurance. I believe they also need to do something to help folks like me, folks who are paying more in health insurance premiums than they are their mortgage. At this point, we're trying to decide which family member to cut off; should we risk cutting Tori's health plan and then hope that we can get her signed up with the state's kids coverage before anything bad happens? Do we stop Charlie's, since over all he's actually pretty healthy but he's getting close to that age where he needs physicals and prostate exams? Sadly, we know we can't cut mine off. With the migraines and the other minor issues I have going on--nothing terribly serious, however--I have to have coverage (although I am trying to find a way to get group coverage, which should save a little on our now astronomical monthly bill). I also worry about my friends that can't afford to get coverage, and there are quite a few. I'm not saying I want the government to pay for my health insurance (well, OK, I do, but I know it's not going to happen), but is there any way they could stop my plan from going up $3,000 in one year?

Obviously, this issue is important to me.

2. Gay Marriage. It should be legal. Suck up and deal with it. GAY MARRIAGE DOES NOT HURT YOUR STRAIGHT MARRIAGE. If gay marriage is hurting your marriage, there is something wrong with YOUR marriage, NOT THE GAYS. I cannot vote for anyone that does not support gay marriage. I am sick and tired of watching homosexuals get treated as second-class citizens, or worse, as DISEASED. It's normal, it doesn't hurt anyone, now shut up and mind your own business. I know that sound harsh and some of you might feel a bit slapped. I'm not going to apologize.

3. The fucking war.  We have to get out of Iraq. We have to go fix the mess we allowed to develop in Afghanistan while we were fucking around killing and getting killed in Iraq.  I don't mean "yank all the troops out now and fuck what happens." We need a sensible exit strategy that allows Iraq to stand on its own and perhaps helps us earn back a bit of the credibility we've lost in the last eight years in the world.

Hetty mentioned in the comments in the last post that the what's going on in the world, such as Russia invading Georgia and threatening Poland calls for an "experienced hand at the wheel." That might be true. Happily, I think Obama is quite capable of working with people who know what they are doing on the world stage, and perhaps--unlike McCain (see this article for a mention of McCain's legendary temper on the diplomatic stage)--of doing it in such a way that doesn't piss off the rest of the world.

As far as Russia goes, well. Don't you think we've somewhat lost credibility there? Who are we to say, "hey, you, bully--don't go attacking an occupying sovereign nations without provocation, you!" Remember the reasons Bush gave for going into Iraq were a web of lies--no link to 9/11 AT ALL, no weapons AT ALL, and no plans to attack the US AT ALL--so who are we to talk tough with Russia?

I listen to the BBC News Hour most days, and I hear dignitaries from other countries discuss the US in scathing, awful terms. THE REST OF THE WORLD EITHER HATES OR PITIES US. Don't you want a president that might do a bit to heal that awful wound? I do. And I know for a FACT that man isn't McCain.

...

There are many smaller issues that factor into my voting choices. But overall, when I look at the two candidates available, my choice based on my beliefs and dreams for our nation, is Obama. Hands down. No, he's not perfect. There is no candidate on the ticket that fits my needs (and if you mention Nader, I will come poke you. Hard. Nader is NOT an option!) perfectly. But I do believe in being an optimist and I will, come November, vote for Obama and PRAY that he wins. Because right now I do not feel like a citizen of my own country. I haven't since Clinton was president. And I want that to change.

Politics, oh how I have avoided thee of late

I have totally avoided politics lately. But I'm geared up now, and I'm going to address some recent things (OK, some NOT so recent) that I've seen/heard because I KNOW YOU ARE ALL WAITING WITH BAITED...UM...EYES. Yeah.

I'm listening to "Not Ready To Make Nice" by The Dixie Chicks just to get riled up. OK.

1. I'm sure this isn't news to most of you--I'm very late on it--but apparently the Bush Administration is already revving up the "change a whole bunch of shit right before I leave office since I don't have to run for re-election so I don't care what people think" party. First up, Birth Control! I quote:

Health and Human Services officials are considering a draft regulation that would classify most birth control pills, the Plan B emergency contraceptive and intrauterine devices as forms of abortion because they prevent the development of fertilized eggs into fetuses.

The rule, which does not require congressional approval, would allow health care workers who object to abortion on moral or religious grounds to refuse to counsel women on their birth control options or supply contraceptives. It would forbid more than half a million health agencies nationwide that receive federal funds from requiring employees to provide such services. Pharmacists could use the rule as a justification for refusing to fill birth control prescriptions, and insurance companies could cite it as a basis for declining to cover the costs.

Awesome! Color me completely unsurprised (for more, see this Washington Post article). The proposal is in draft form, and apparently there is some evidence that the Secretary of HHS is backing down on the proposal (cannot find link, sorry). But this Slate article both accurately address the fallacy of such a ban (such as the fact that birth control pills are actually designed to completely prevent ovulation, therefore eliminating any "embryo" that would thus be stopped from implanting) and highlights the idea that, hey, in that case, we should also ban breastfeeding since it does the SAME DAMN THING. Amen. By the way? None of this involves congress. Can be signed into law by Bush, and Bush alone. Awesome.

2. The "Elitist" title. This makes me absolutely, utterly, completely motherfucking bat shit crazy. Somehow or other, Obama has been stuck with "elitist" (why? Because he once fucking complained about the price of arugula? Give me a fucking break already). When you compare our two candidates, side by side, who REALLY looks like a fucking elitist? The guy who was raised by a single mom--who once had to go on food stamps to make sure he got fed, or the guy with the $520 shoes? The guy who  worked as a community organizer in Chicago's low-income Roseland Community (before going to law school), or the guy who dumped his first wife to marry an heiress and then use her family connections to get him into political office?

I'm not saying that McCain had an easy childhood; he grew up as a military brat, and I know that can be hard. But he always had both parents, a roof over his head, and the security that his needs would be met. Personally, as someone that grew up the child of a single mother and poor (and spent time watching her mother's shame when we had to use food stamps, oh, and like Obama, my mother also went on to earn a PhD), I have a lot more respect for someone like Obama who had to shake off a tough and lonely childhood to move forward in his life (not to mention that whole being black thing). But we all know I'd be prone to Obama and opposed to McCain anyway, so I won't claim to be unbiased.

The truth is, both Obama and McCain are rich men. I doubt either of them has had to worry, recently, if they have enough money for anything. However: in my opinion, Obama has been closer to the real world more recently, by far, than McCain has. Obama was still a college student, working while going to school while McCain was happily adjusting to the life of the very, very rich. So while they are both rich, privileged men now, I believe wholeheartedly that Obama understands the pain of my recent $161 increase in my monthly medical insurance bill far more than McCain does. (All details about the candidates garnered here and here.)

3.  John McCain is moderate. He IS NOT. He somehow earned this reputation and it is totally undeserved. I've frequently seen articles that say "the religious right is unhappy with McCain." Really? Why? This article breaks down all the reasons, but here's the man himself talking about my favorite issue, choice:

Wow, what an incredibly moderate position, right? (Thanks to Pam for the link.)

I know many of you readers--my lovely, lovely readers--are much more right of center than I am (seriously, there is no room to the left of me), and will feel that I am attacking McCain unfairly. Trust me when I tell you, I am not--for instance, I didn't at all get into all the rumors of affairs that have been flying around him and the whole double standard as far as sexual misbehavior goes (Democrats who do it are investigated and hounded to death, while Republicans seem to be given a pass--unless it's a homosexual affair, of course). I also didn't talk about how McCain's first wife waited for him for five years while he was a POW, and how she had a bad car accident but refused to tell him because he was at war because she didn't want to upset him, or that she was disfigured in the accident and many speculate that's why he dumped her for Cindy and married her a month after his divorce was final. See? I didn't attack him at all, because I left that all out and didn't talk about what that means to me as far as things like character go, or discuss the interesting fact that Obama as he grew up seemed to make better choices, choices that should be viewed as more popular like joining a church even though he was raised without religion, marrying his college sweetheart and sticking with her--that sort of thing.

See? I wasn't unfair, right? Heh.

Baby Mama

I was going to go on a long rant about how Fox News referred to Barack Obama's wife as his "baby mama" but I won't.

Why? Because this guy says it way fucking better.

Thank to the Blue-Eyed Hag (who happens to be a childhood friend and the daughter of one of my mother's best friends) for the link.

Unbalanced

So, I've been fuming ranting and raving stewing considering the whole last 48 hours on this blog.

I've been thinking about what would happen if any of the candidates actually DID come and read my blog post about losing Nicholas and Zachary and why it made me even more a believer in keeping abortion safe and legal (and rare). Then I started to think about how it would be if they read the comments, and then what I posted the next day, and I began to feel, well, frankly... embarrassed.

I'm not embarrassed by you guys--your comments were fine. I'm embarrassed at my behavior, at my cattiness, and at my reactionary response to the few people that asked me that simple question: why didn't I get a c-section? Of course the answer seems obvious, on the surface, either to those of us that have been through a similar situation, or have watched women like us go through it, or have a medical background, or have the Google MD that comes from years of infertility and loss.

But you know what? That does NOT describe everyone who reads this blog any more. There are a lot of people who come here who never had any trouble conceiving (and some who haven't even yet tried) who might honestly just not know the answer to that simple question: why didn't I have a c-section?

Instead of being calm and rational, and what I like to call the "Good Cecily" that handles discussions of the loss of my twins in a reasoned and sensible manner and just answers the question asked, I instead reacted to what I perceived to be the unasked questions or the unstated judgments. I didn't hear a simple "Why didn't you get a c-section?" I heard, "Bitch, why didn't you try harder to save your son's life and have a c-section?"

And you know what? NOBODY SAID THAT. I leaped to conclusions--many of us did--and instead of responding, I reacted. I got angry. I behaved badly. I engaged in an email debate that got ugly. And worse, when the person I engaged with extended what might have been an olive branch I could have possibly grasped onto (admittedly, it was a small branch, slightly wilted, without any actual leaves), instead of trying to bring peace to our discussion, I set the fucking branch on fire.

Additionally, I turned my back on the 110 supportive and positive comments I got and instead focused on the single commenter that was negative. How rotten is that? How ungrateful? How small minded and stupid?

I can't give a reasonable excuse for why this happened; I'd love to blame the hormones (seriously, this is the worst PMS I've ever experienced, and WHERE THE FUCK IS MY PERIOD ALREADY?) but that's not the only reason. In general lately I have been focusing on the dark and not able to see the light. I find that when my surface is scratched these days, what is underneath is bitterness and fear. I'm not letting love in. I'm not letting God in. I'm not letting the light in.

So I'm not sure I should be representing ANYONE to our candidates.

I want to apologize to those of you that asked a simple question and got shouted down. Please, forgive me for not just answering what you asked and instead assuming you were saying something else entirely (and even if that WAS what you were thinking, that is SO not my business). I hope you will continue to come here, and continue to ask questions, and continue to express your point of view even if it differs from mine and from many readers of this blog.

Now, please don't give me a bunch of accolades and tell me how awesome I am for saying this. I'm not big-hearted, or brave, or tolerant, even, particularly. Truth is, I'm mostly kind of an asshole and sometimes I let it show here in the blog. This was one of those times. I'm working on it.

Now. Back to the puppies.

Speaking to the Candidates About Choice On the Four Year Anniversary Of This Blog

Apparently, some folks who read this blog know some folks who know some folks and swear they can get this blog entry read by at least Obama, but I figured, why limit myself to just writing to Obama? I'm speaking to everyone who is running for President, including Ms. Clinton, and Mr. McCain (ok, maybe not Mr. Nader).

Why have I been appointed as someone to discuss the issue of choice? Because I'm the Internet Poster Girl For Partial Birth Abortion, that's why. It's not a title I'm proud of, but it's one I was saddled with a few years ago.

I'm not going to get into the whole story here. If you really want to read all about the harrowing details they start here. But you are all too busy running for president, so I'll give you the short version. In April of 2004 I was lucky enough to get pregnant with twin boys after undergoing in vitro treatment for male factor infertility (thanks to drugs my husband's mother took--DES, we suspect--while she was pregnant with him). We were on top of the world, although the pregnancy was difficult.

But a routine ultrasound on October 26--meant to be a time of great joy (my best friend came with us to the appointment--revealed terrible news: one of the twins had died, probably about a week before. We went from the ultrasound appointment to my obstetrician's office and were met with even more grim news. My weight had spiked up about 18 pounds, my blood pressure was soaring, and I had protein in my urine.

It turned out that I was in full-blown preeclampsia. I was admitted to the hospital immediately.

After that, everything happened very quickly. I was put on medication (magnesium sulfate) in an attempt to treat the preeclampsia and save the remaining twin until he reached outside-the-womb viability--a mere two weeks away (I was just over 22 weeks pregnant). But I got much worse overnight; my blood pressure couldn't be controlled, I had a massive headache and was vomiting uncontrollably. My kidneys shut down. I was moments away from seizures, coma, and death when the doctors came and told us the bad news: my remaining twin could not be saved. My pregnancy had to be terminated or both the baby and I would die.

You might, Mr. Obama and Mr. McCain, be able to imagine what it felt like to be my husband--to imagine being terrified of losing your children and your wife in one fell swoop. Ms. Clinton, you might be able to imagine lying in the hospital, so sick you barely feel any of what is happening, only knowing that the long-fought-for children you so desperately wanted are now both going to be dead.

Here's the part of the story where choice comes in. I could, of course, have gone through induced labor and delivered my tiny twins. But my blood pressure was hovering around 165/120 (often going higher), even with treatment. Can you imagine what labor would have done to my body with blood pressure that high? My doctor recommended, and I agreed, that I undergo the much less stressful intact dilation and extraction procedure--what the "pro-life" forces often like to call a "partial birth abortion." Of course, you being the smart and well-education politicians that you are know that there is NO medical procedure that is actually called a "partial birth abortion" so you know that there are several medical procedures that the "pro-life" movement put in that category, including the one that I had. Wait, I take that back--Mr. McCain, as you have been a staunch supporter of the Partial Birth Abortion ban you clearly were asleep in class when they discussed the actual procedures.

But I digress. My doctor refers to my procedure as the worst moment in his professional career. As I lay on the gurney, waiting for my procedure to start, I felt a gulf of grief and emptiness the like of which I have never known. I felt abandoned by God. I lay there, crying, alone, surrounded by doctors and nurses. You can't imagine the sadness.

I was lucky. Are you surprised that I would say that? I was lucky because the partial-birth abortion ban was not yet in effect in October of 2004. If it had been, I would have been forced to undergo labor and delivery, no matter the risks to my health, and I might right now be either dead or so brain damaged I would be unable to type this. I was additionally lucky because even though I live in Philadelphia, one of the largest cities in the country--a city, Mr. Obama and Ms. Clinton, you two will be visiting a great deal in the next month--my doctor happened to be only one of two doctors in this entire city that was willing and able to perform this life-saving medical procedure (although he can't now, of course, thanks to the ban being enacted--besides, he left Pennsylvania for New Jersey thanks to our crazy medical malpractice insurance crisis but that's another story).

So that's my story. For a year after that, I licked my wounds and missed my sons, Nicholas and Zachary. Eventually, I underwent a frozen embryo transfer and gave birth to my daughter Victoria, whose grinning face you see above this entry. I had problems with her delivery as well, so I will not be having other children, sadly.

I'm sure that you will find my story compelling; even the most hard-hearted and most staunch pro-lifers have. Many who came to my blog to question my decision have stayed and become friends. You know why? Because mine was an "acceptable" abortion. I'm not a 26 year old professional woman who doesn't want to derail her career by having a child and chooses to terminate a pregnancy. Or a teenage girl who got drunk and forgot to make the boy wear a condom. Or a harried mother of three who just can't imagine having a fourth child.

So it's easy to read my story and say, oh, yes, in case LIKE YOURS, abortion should be legal. But... when laws are passed that make it difficult for that teenage girl to get to exercise the right to control her own body--hey, I'm looking at you, Ms. Clinton, for not standing up harder against the parental notification laws--or for the professional woman to be able to fill a prescription, quietly, for RU486 at her local pharmacy so she can make her choice as well, or that harried mother to do the same thing--when those laws are passed, it's women like me that die. When you cut corners, you don't save babies lives. You kill women like me.

Let me say that again. When you compromise on abortion--when you sacrifice even the smallest corner of choice--you kill women like me. You create a culture of fear among doctors that puts lives like mine at risk.

So knock it off, will you? Fight to protect a woman's right to choose. I know, Ms. Clinton, that you believe in it enough to put it on the front page of your website, but your record isn't perfect. Mr. Obama, you do not discuss choice on your campaign page (although it's hosted on the Women for Obama page). Why not? Mr. McCain, for shame. Shame on you for promoting a law that is basically a warrant for my death. Come on.

I'm tired of writing about this. I am tired of being the Internet Poster Girl for Partial Birth Abortion, I assure you. It's not comfortable. By writing this post, I will get a new batch of pro-life people that will start telling me how I murdered my sons, how they could have lived (they never, ever, remember that one had already passed away) and some will threaten me. It happens every time I talk about this. Sometimes I just want to lie down and let someone else do this. But I won't. I don't know what it will take; perhaps a constitutional amendment protecting women's bodies?

Yeah. That might do it. Sigh. Like that will ever happen.

Haircuts, Race, And Why I Cringe About The Whole Damn Thing

On Tuesday we took Tori to get her hair cut again. It grows so damn fast! She was beginning to look a bit wild already, and Sunday is Easter (although I haven't been to church in ages--apparently, I accidentally gave up church for lent thanks to various illnesses and my vacation) and she's wearing the cutest dress that I bought right after Christmas thanks to Tori's internet auntie Tanya in Japan, and I just wanted Tori to look cute and springy and adorable. So, off we went.

Instead of driving twenty minutes away I decided to go to the place that is right in the downtown section of my borough. It was close, and I'd forgotten all about it before, and I realized I should support my local businesses and, so, off we went.

It was a DISASTER.

The hairdresser was utterly TERRIFIED of her scissors (she had a large scar on her hand where she's slipped before). Tori is not the greatest kid while getting her haircut, crying at first (although she settled down while I held her) and moving around a lot, so the hairdresser kept jumping away from Tori, both afraid of cutting Tori and cutting herself. Once Tori settled down, she worked hard on her, FOR NEARLY AN HOUR.

The result? Tori has uneven bangs, her hair is super short and a cross between a typical boy cut and a bowl cut, one side is much thicker than the other, and she has a huge chunk missing out of the back of one section because the hairdresser slipped and cut when Tori moved. I'd been hoping for something more like this, and instead got this (sorry these pictures suck, I literally stopped writing to run up and interrupt Tori playing with Sarah's daughter to photograph her):

Now, I realize Tori is going to suffer no trauma from this event (I'm not so sure about me) and her hair grows super fast so it's really not a big deal. But let's discuss the hairdresser for a moment. It sounds like she's totally incompetent, doesn't it? Like she has no right to be running a hair salon at all.

But here's the thing: she's African-American, and so are most of her customers, and guess what? She told me most of them DON'T GET THEIR HAIR CUT with scissors. They use clippers on the boys, and the girls get braids or get styles. So she's actually a great hairdresser (I'm judging this by her three kids who were all there with great hair styles). She's just not the hairdresser for Tori.

But she didn't feel comfortable turning us away as customers. How ironic is that?

I thought about this as I listened to Obama's speech. I'll tell you the truth; I don't think what his pastor said was all that wrong, or untrue, or out of line. But it still makes me squirm. In a weird way, it makes me squirm the same way that Sarah and Charlie's road rage makes me squirm. Other people's anger just  makes me uncomfortable. It is very difficult to just sit and listen to other people's rage and just... take it for what it is, and accept that it isn't directed at us personally.

And that, I think, is what Obama is asking us to do.

It's challenging.

I like that he is challenging us.

But here's what bothers me, too. There is a bit of, well, I don't know what to call it. What if Hillary, in reaction to Ms. Ferraro's comments, decided that SHE needed to have give a "major speech" about race?

Yeah.

Only Mr. Obama is allowed to give such a speech. Because he's not white. I, frankly, would not have been comfortable addressing the fact that the reason Tori's haircut came out so badly was because her hairdresser was inexperienced in cutting white hair, frankly, if I didn't have Obama's speech to build it around. I can frame it all nice and carefully around this whole, "See, I'm not a racist" blog entry this way. But I will confess that I hadn't gone to this kid's haircuttery before because I knew it was primarily for African-Americans until one of the parents at the playground mentioned it to me, and I worried that I was being racist by not choosing to patronize it.

The truth is, as a liberal white, I am so goddamned uncomfortable ever talking about race that I pretend it doesn't exist. My friend Jim, who happens to be black, once told me a joke: "What do you call a black person who can fly a plane?" I paused for a moment, and before I could say anything he said, "A pilot, you racist motherfucker!" and then he laughed and laughed. Of course, Jim is the same guy who corrects you when you say, "I dyed my hair black," he looks askance and says, "African-American!" so I didn't take it too seriously, but still--it's a perfect example of my white liberal guilt--I'm looking for the special, above-and-beyond the norm label when, in fact, a black person flying a plane is really just a pilot like everyone else that flies planes.

I found Obama's speech deeply compelling, like so many of you did (as I read in your blogs). But I'm still leaning toward Hillary at the moment. Here's one reason: when I look at the issues section of Obama's page, I don't find anything about a woman's right to choose. Not even when I hunt through it. Extensively. That REALLY bothers me. He claims to be pro-choice, but why not say so? Obama fans, can you help me here? Hillary has women's rights front and center in her issues list. As you all know, this issue is just a tad important to me. Heh.

But before I divert myself too far from the issue at hand, I think Jon Stewart said it best last night: kudos to Barack Obama for standing up yesterday (in my city!) and talking to us about race--LIKE WE ARE ADULTS. God bless him for that.

I'd love the hear your thoughts. Do tell!

Why I Switched to Obama

So, sorry for the long delay between posts. I've been busy catching up on work (ah, blessed, blessed work, how I do love thee), seeing friends (you should have seen Tori's face when she saw Sarah's daughter--a happier child did not exist at that moment), attending a training session for this, a cool organization that is hopefully going to help us find ways to get money to fix up our church, and seeing Sarah's daughter perform in Mulan. It's been a whirlwind, but it's been great to be home.

Tori has been, as most of you predicted, returning to her lovely self. She's been much less, oh, let's say psychotic, and much more the easy-going happy child we love since we got home. Sadly, either on the plane or at morning care she caught a nice cold so she's been coughing and snurfling quite a bit and is sleeping a lot but is otherwise in good spirits. She also seems very, very happy to see all her toys again and is resisting, mightily, any attempts to put them away. She has them spread about the living room and visits each of them in turn throughout the day. It's very cute.

Anyway, this post is not about Tori, it's about how I switched from being a die-hard Hillary Clinton supporter to being a Barack Obama supporter.

As I mentioned back in this post, I've always liked Obama. When I listen to him speak, I feel inspired. There is no doubt that he stirs the souls more than any politician in years when he reads from the teleprompter (not so strong off the cuff--although he gets better every day, and he always manages to look relaxed). But I, like many, worried about his small amount of experience and how well he would stand up to the fucking Swiftboating bullshit that will be coming his way, particularly with his tenuous Muslim connections (such as his middle name, recently used at a McCain rally, etc).

But as it became clear that John McCain was going to be the Republican nominee for President, I immediately knew that Obama would be the better candidate to run against him, primarily because Obama has a wide appeal to voters that are registered as Independents (scroll down to see link), something that Hillary does not. Since McCain is also well known for appealing to independents, this is an important thing to consider, and since it's already clear that I'm a tactical voter and not an idealistic one, this a big factor for me.

Because I live in Pennsylvania, I'm not used to having my primary vote actually fucking matter, so I'm finding that I really have to THINK about this for once. So. The final nail in the coffin for me for Hillary, so to speak, came from this excellent article by the oh-so-nerdy-but-still-hot Fareed Zakaria (at least when he's on the Daily Show) in Newsweek a few weeks ago.

This article articulated perfectly something about Hillary that a few commenters mentioned that bothered me about her as well; the fact is, Hillary isn't really "blue" so much as she's "purple". Fareed puts it best in this paragraph here:

Bill and Hillary Clinton grew up in an era of Republican dominance. For much of the last 30 years, the Republican Party has been the party of ideas (a point made repeatedly by Daniel Patrick Moynihan), and Ronald Reagan was seen by much of the country to have rescued America from malaise and retreat. The Clintons' careers have been shaped by the belief that for a Democrat to succeed, he or she had to work within this conservative ideological framework. Otherwise one would be pilloried for being weak on national security, partial to taxes and big government and out of touch with Middle America's social values.

That's exactly the problem. We have a chance--finally--to see progressivism--oh, fuck that shit let's just call it what it is because I, for one, don't believe that LIBERAL is a bad word--to see LIBERALISM actually get somewhere in this country, and I want to vote into office someone who isn't afraid to actually stand firm and hold to their beliefs. Someone who doesn't believe in good enough. Someone who thinks that they do NOT have to work within the Republican party's framework to succeed. And I'm hoping that someone is Barack Obama.

So, there you have it. If you are headed to the polls tomorrow, good luck making your choice. It's tough this year. Rarely--if EVER--have we had such wonderful individuals to choose from. What a blessing! What a gift! I guess we can be thankful that Bush JR gave us that much, eh?

Sadly, as many folks have noted, as excited as the country might be to vote for a black man or a woman in the primaries this year, when it comes to actually voting for President? Well, a 73-year-old white man might be all they are comfortable with, right? Sigh.

Take-the-baby-to-Prison Day, or Why Aren't There Any Rehab Prisons? (and this is the kind of post that will keep me from being elected to anything, ever)

So, on Saturday I was changing Tori's diaper in the bathroom of the visitors waiting room at prison and I got to thinking about this post I've been meaning to write.

Wait. Maybe I should start at the beginning.

Recently, we (we being Charlie, Sarah, and I) found out that an old friend of ours had gone down a rocky path. Once sober and happy, he'd hit a bunch of speed bumps--the brutal murder of a friend and business partner, the loss of a fianceé, the theft of his belongings--and it all added up to his choosing to return to using drugs and drinking rather than staying sober. In short order, this led to him being where he is now: behind bars, serving a two-year sentence. We'd lost touch with him over the years and had no idea he was in jail, but after exchanging a few letters decided to go visit him.

Visiting someone is prison is a nightmare in Philadelphia (perhaps it's more fun where you are). We arrived early, took a number, sat for a half-hour, then filled out a form, found out to our dismay that we couldn't take Tori to see our friend because we didn't bring her birth certificate with us (for fuck's sake), and then we waited. And waited. The room we waited in was about 100 degrees, and it took forever for them to allow us our visits (we each got a half-hour with our friend, and we had to wait 45 minutes between our half hours for some unknown reason). Once I was finally permitted to go back to see him, I was required to take off my shoes and shake out my socks, lift my shirt and shake out my bra, lift my hair and let the guard check behind my ears, let her put her hands in all my pockets, look "down" my pants, and also open my mouth and let her look under my tongue.

Our friend is lucky; he's managed to fight to get two years sober again in prison, but not because of any help the system has given him. He's in a special section of the prison dedicated to addicts and alcoholics and he only gets exactly ONE sobriety meeting a week (most folks believe in order to maintain sobriety, particularly early sobriety, you should go every day). He also gets to go to church once a week. Yet he says he could easily obtain drugs in prison, even in his special unit--in fact, he told me during our visit that most of his unit was "zannied out" (meaning they were taking xanax) and it was obvious to me that several of the other prisoners in the visiting room were completely stoned.

According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, 16%-18% of crimes are committed because of individuals either behaving badly while on substances or committing crimes (such as robbery) to get money so they can procure MORE substances.  I think that number is actually insanely low; this Drug-Related Crime Fact sheet put out by the government claims that nearly 75% of criminals tested positive for drugs when they were busted here in Philadelphia (compared to only 42% in Anchorage, Alaska--Philly kicks ass again; Woot!).

Yet drug treatment remains a low priority for our criminal justice system. This fact sheet claims that nearly 75% of the 6.3 million people incarcerated in the United States NEED some form of treatment, but only 11% get it. Of course you can't force people to get help when they don't want it--most of us addicts and alcoholics do NOT, in fact, ever get better--but while this sheet claims that prisons offer extensive treatment, it's simply NOT TRUE.

Here in Philadelphia, sobriety meetings are taken in to prisons by non-prisoners on a regular basis. But it's a challenge (people willing to bring meetings must go through a major certification process, must not be ex-felons themselves, etc, etc). Most prisons allow no more than one meeting a month, at most, and do NOT allow the prisoners to organize their own meetings. Why can't prisoners hold their own meetings if they are supervised by a counselor or drug treatment therapist? Because there AREN'T ANY THERAPISTS OR COUNSELORS AVAILABLE TO THE PRISONERS.

I have wondered for years why there aren't prisons specifically for individuals that have committed crimes but are serious about getting clean and sober. I had a friend in early recovery that went to a sober high school; it was just like regular high school, but they also held daily meetings and had an overall focus on staying away from alcohol and drugs (wish I'd gone to one of those). So why aren't there sober prisons?

I understand that prison is, first and foremost, PUNISHMENT. I am not suggesting that we change the prison experience from typical prison to the luxury spa experience that Brittney Spears and Lindsay Lohan enjoyed during their stints in "Rehab." A rehab prison should still be a prison. But it should offer daily meetings, and have more frequent drug testing, and work harder to keep the drugs OUT (I really think it's despicable that drugs get into prisons so easily--and it's clearly NOT coming from the visitors; I couldn't have sneaked in shit).

If prisoners came out of prison sober, don't you think there is a much better chance of decreased recidivism? If prisoners are used to meetings, they will have a quick and easy way to plug back in to society (by going to meetings OUTSIDE of prison) that can help them find places to live and jobs and keep them out of trouble (people in meetings help their own), as well as making them more willing to utilize the services provided by the prison system (our friend is plugged in to his social worker for help with jobs and housing when he gets out this summer).

Getting sober isn't easy, and it's not fun. Why do you think so many people fail at it? Learning to live without alcohol and drugs for the addict or alcoholic is like learning to walk backwards. It is so much easier, sometimes, to just keep walking forward. Being sober, to the alcoholic/addict, is as unnatural as being drunk all the time is to the non-alcoholic. Being sober feels wrong, bad, awkward, uncomfortable. Like you are naked, or like your skin is on inside out. It sucks, and it take forever--months and months--for that feeling to lessen (it never quite goes away completely). Along with that comes the humiliation of realizing the harm you've caused, the truth of what a shit heel you've been for years, and the hard work you have to do to become a decent human being. IT SUCKS. No one should look at the act of getting sober as a "gift" being given to a prisoner. Getting sober is a nearly impossible struggle and has to be earned and fought for, and is painful and agonizing--don't think it isn't. So I truly do not believe that providing prisoners with a chance to earn their sobriety makes their stay in prison MORE comfortable. Trust me on this one--being high on xanax is a WAY better way to do your time.

I realize this is all fantasy on my part; no one ever wants to view treatment as a way to solve crime instead of punishment; a hammer is always seen as more effective than a hug. But right now, prisons are full to the brim with individuals doing obscene amounts of time for drug crimes thanks to the mandatory sentences that were instituted in the early 1990's; the way the laws were set up, individuals caught with three grams of crack did as much time as dealers caught with 300 grams (thankfully, that rule has been tossed). Eventually all of those individuals are going to get out of prison no better than they were when they went in, and in many cases, much worse. They will commit more crimes, and hurt more people, and end up right back there, costing us more money and filling up more jail cells.

Isn't it time to try something different?

Maybe We Should Just Discuss Politics

What a fascinating discussion in the comments in the last post. I'm sorry some folks got their feelings hurt, and I'm leaving that discussion over there. OK then. Moving on.

So, someone said here in a comment a while back that they felt sorry for Tori because they thought I would be ill-equipped to deal with her Princess phase thanks to my rampant and raging feminism. Well, as you can see from the new photo in the side bar over on the left, Tori is already developing Princess qualities and I have to say I am secretly enjoying it immensely. See? Here's proof:

OK, perhaps not QUITE so secretly.

She's clearly enjoying dressing up already; she was given a string of Mardi-Gras beads by a drunken Mummer at the Parade on New Year's Day and she LOVED it until she lost it at morning care (she insisted on wearing it there every time she went), so I finally went and got her a new necklace and the only one they sold came with a tiara. She loves wearing it, and I have no issues with her doing so.

I'd love to live in a world where Sammy, our next door neighbor's son, could also enjoy wearing a tiara without recrimination, but considering the fact that you can't even get "gender neutral" toys with a kid's happy meal, I don't think we're going to get there any time soon. They love me at fast food places because when they ask whether or not I want the boy or girl toy I demand to know WHAT the toys are before telling them I actually need the one for under-three-year-olds (although sometimes we get the boy toy if it's cool). Heh.

Tori's toys are balanced, I'd like to believe. She has a bunch of neutral stuff, a train puzzle, a tiara, books, stuffed animals, a pull wagon with giant lego-type things that was clearly marketed to boys, and one of those cool popper toys that's pink (not because I didn't want to buy the standard primary color one, but the pink one popped much more satisfactorily).

But things I don't want to see in our house are looming on the horizon. Things like this. Or god, worse even--this new line of Barbie dolls (it's like they are competing--who can bring more skank?). I used to think my mom was crazy for not letting me play with Barbie dolls, but man--now I totally fucking get it. If I even go down those aisles at the store with Tori--or god forbid, a fucking rack of the dolls is somewhere you don't expect it (like I came across one at a bookstore for some reason), Tori's face lights up in a most alarming way. I don't want her to feel the same sort of lack and longing that I did--and lord knows, I got a pretty fucking distorted body image without a single Barbie doll in my house--but STILL. Ye GODS.

So what do you do? I don't mind dress up, and letting her be a girl--but I really don't want her to fall prey to all the shit that's out there, you know? Not to mention there are all kinds of other issues such as there aren't enough dolls that look like real people, there aren't dolls of color, etc, etc, etc. There is so much about this gender and toys crap. How do you balance this in your house?

Tactician Vs. Idealist

I had a fascinating conversation recently with my friend Geoffrey. We were talking about voting, and how committed we both are to the process--and how differently we vote. Geoffrey is an idealist; after voting for Ralph Nader in 2000, he felt badly about voting as an idealist and decided to vote for John Kerry in 2004, even though he had great reservations about Kerry's record. He's decided this time to vote his heart and not for the most "viable" candidate. He doesn't much care for any of the front runners; was not a huge fan of Bill Clinton and is not at all enamored of Hillary. He says the only guy he likes remotely is Kucinich.

When I take those online polls to find out which candidate matches my views the most, Kucinich is also the one that rises to the top. I'm not surprised; he's clearly the most liberal and socialist minded candidate running for office this time around. But there is no way in hell I'm voting for him.

(I won't be discussing the Republican nominees today. Because, like, why? That is what it is. Thank God Giuliani is losing so far is all I can say.)

I like Obama. I find him invigorating and inspiring, I love the passion he presents and the way he makes me feel that odd, burning sensation behind my breastbone I identify as hope and optimism and national pride. But I probably won't be voting for him either.

I want to like John Edwards. I love the fact that he continues to discuss the truth about America, and the fact that there are two different nations (one poor, one rich). I admire his wife's courage, and I have to admit that I love the fact that they are most likely our compatriots in assisted reproduction. But I find the idea of his 13,000 square foot house disconcerting (seriously, does anyone other than those people with the 14 children need that much space?), and he's just too... I don't know. Pretty.

I find that I am like a lot of other Democrats that feel on the fence about Hillary Clinton. I'm opposed to the idea of political dynasties. I think Hillary is too perfect as a politician, and maybe a little out of touch with being a normal person.

But damn it, I just love her.

I know all her issues. But I will most likely vote for her for three reasons. One, I believe she might win, and I'm a tactical voter rather than an idealism voter. Two, I want, oh so desperately, to see the light in Tori's eyes when she grows up knowing that she could be president. Three, I want, oh so desperately, to see the light in my eyes when I know, finally, in my heart, that a woman can be president.

For a long time I believed that I wanted a woman president for Tori. But damn it, I want one for me. I want to feel like I belong to this nation, for fuck's sake. And President Hillary? With First Husband Bill? Yeah, that totally works for me.

So how about you? Are you an idealist, or a tactician? Where does your heart lie as we approach Super Tuesday?

Sometimes It's Hard To Be A Good Liberal

Lots of you folks emailed me about this news story, the young Saudi woman who was gang raped by seven men. The men were convicted of rape, but the woman was also convicted of being with an unrelated man and sentenced to 100 lashes. She appealed her sentence, so they doubled it and added six months of prison time. Now it turns out that her lawyer is also being punished for defending her and appealing her ruling; his license has been confiscated and he could face disbarment (interesting note: the story in the International Herald Tribune about her lawyer is the only one I've seen that mentions the fact that both the woman and her unrelated male companion were raped by the seven men; I had not heard before that the companian too was raped; I suspect that is the only reason the men that committed the crime were convicted at all).

I wasn't going to write about it because this is the kind of story that makes me want to put my head down on my desk and weep silently for a year. Like female genital mutilation. Or the many other thousands of ways that women and children are horrifically treated, around the world, all the time, any day of the week. It's just too much. It makes me want to crawl out of my human skin and become some other sort of creature because I cannot possible be the same sort of being that would do those things to others of the same kinds of beings.

But then this morning on the BBC New Hour on the radio I heard another story about a young woman (I cannot find the link, and I looked, for an hour) who was raped by her brother. She and her brother were both convicted of incest and sentenced to 99 lashes. That's it for him, but for her? She's going to hang. HANG. For being raped.

The connection between the Saudi story and the incest story is that they were all Muslim, and they were all convicted of their crimes in a Muslim court and sentenced by Muslim judges.

Now, I personally work to not be anti-Muslim (forgive me for sounding a bit smug here, but it's true). I believe in religious freedom. I do not want anyone to force their choices on me, and I do not expect everyone else to live by the outrageously liberal standards that I personally hold (although, of course, I think that would be lovely).

But when I hear these stories about this absolutely blatant unbalanced and horrible mistreatment of women, I get soooooo angry. I get vengeful. I begin thinking bad things; things like armies and tanks and weapons nearby aren't such a bad thing after all.

I do NOT want to think that. But I do want to work toward change. How do you balance a tolerance for multiculturalism and religious freedom with human rights?

Oh my god, I just looked at that last sentence and realized what a huge and fucking ridiculously arrogant question that is to ask. No one knows the answer to that question, and I'm a typical middle class white American to even ask it--in a fucking BLOG of all places. All I can do, I guess, is work hard on practicing love and patience and tolerance in my own life and in my heart and do my best to work toward that for all people everywhere. I don't know what else to do. I know this blog has a few Muslim readers; I'd love to hear your perspective on all this. I know this is not a true reflection of your world, any more than the abortion clinic bombers are of Christianity. Please help me understand. But everyone, please, when we discuss this topic--respect. Above all, respect.

If you want a lighter topic, go read the work blog. New post up there.

Scary Shit

This pisses me off.

Why? Well, it seems obvious to me, but I'll elaborate anyway, since I have to blog today. Heh.

Personally, I would opt, if I could, to ban all campaign advertising. I would prefer that all information about individual candidates have to be discovered by actually reading/listening to what the candidates have to say for themselves. Then, I'd like to have unbiased media do research to find out if they walk the walk, or if they are just talking the talk.

Since we DON'T have an unbiased media (Fox News, you know I'm looking at you), I don't mind if people use resources other than the news media to determine a candidates stance on issues that matter to them.
What I don't want is what we have now. Misleading ads put out by the candidates themselves (either about their own record, or their opponents), and the advertisements that are so completely dishonest, so completely full of shit and spin and downright fucking LIES that are created by organizations that are not directly affiliated with any particular candidate and don't have any oversight.

The ads wouldn't be a big deal, if we were, oh, an entirely different culture. You know, one that read up on shit and was careful to not buy the load of shit that most ads are selling. But it seems to me that most of us are influenced by the hateful ads we see, even when we try hard not to be.

I'm not just talking about Swift-boating here, although that is by far the most heinous example. Liberal organizations can be just as awful; I don't really want Moveon.org representing my liberal ass either (not that I disagree with what they say; I just don't care for their tactics).

The idea that it is going to be even WORSE this year than it was in 2004 infuriates me. Completely. I do not want to spend the next year fast forwarding through angry, hate filled advertisements while attempting to watch my favorite TV shows. A year of it! Arg.

It angers me that the politicians have loosened the controls on these groups instead of tightening them! Clearly it's helping more of them than it's hurting (I think John McCain and John Kerry are the only ones in office that felt the full brunt of the assaults), so I shouldn't be surprised. Most of them probably have their seats thanks in part to negative ads.

But the idea that these idiots can just say shit, without it being verified in any way, and not get fired drives me batty. I mean, look what happened to Dan Rather! That should happen to any idiot that doesn't fully check his or her facts before stating something as true. Even idiots running advertisements.

Boy oh boy. This election season is so gonna SUCK.

Snowflake Babies, Dominionism, Cultural Marxism and why I should stop reading the news

When I first heard President Bush refer to frozen embryos that are a product of IVF as "snowflake babies," I didn't pay it much mind. Obviously, he was using language to promote the idea that a frozen bundle of four to eight cells is actually a full fledged human being, and can go buy a car or run up a credit card like any good little American (but not a car from Ford!).

But as Maura recently said to me, it's creepy. It's clearly hinting that this administration is considering taking on the infertility industry; maybe they've taken a cue from the Pope.

Maura also sent me a link to this article in the current issue of Harper's. It chronicles the author's trip to the National Religious Broadcasters convention. One thing that stood out about the convention to the author was the fact that so many Christians sects were represented at this convention. Apparently, conservative Catholics, Pentcostal Christians, African-American Baptists and many others have set side their differences to promote the new doctrine called Dominionism. Here is explanatory quote from the article, which may be the most terrifying paragraph I've ever read:

"What the disparate sects of this movement, known as Dominionism, share is an obsession with political power. A decades-long refusal to engage in politics at all following the Scopes trial has been replaced by a call for Christian “dominion” over the nation and, eventually, over the earth itself. Dominionists preach that Jesus has called them to build the kingdom of God in the here and now, whereas previously it was thought that we would have to wait for it. America becomes, in this militant biblicism, an agent of God, and all political and intellectual opponents of America’s Christian leaders are viewed, quite simply, as agents of Satan. Under Christian dominion, America will no longer be a sinful and fallen nation but one in which the Ten Commandments form the basis of our legal system, Creationism and “Christian values” form the basis of our educational system, and the media and the government proclaim the Good News to one and all. Aside from its proselytizing mandate, the federal government will be reduced to the protection of property rights and “homeland” security. Some Dominionists (not all of whom accept the label, at least not publicly) would further require all citizens to pay “tithes” to church organizations empowered by the government to run our social-welfare agencies, and a number of influential figures advocate the death penalty for a host of “moral crimes,” including apostasy, blasphemy, sodomy, and witchcraft. The only legitimate voices in this state will be Christian. All others will be silenced."

For the record:

a·pos·ta·sy   (-pst-s)
n. pl. a·pos·ta·sies

Abandonment of one's religious faith, a political party, one's principles, or a cause.

blas·phe·my    (blsf-m)
n. pl. blas·phe·mies

1. 1. A contemptuous or profane act, utterance, or writing concerning God or a sacred entity.
   2. The act of claiming for oneself the attributes and rights of God.
2.      An irreverent or impious act, attitude, or utterance in regard to something considered inviolable or sacrosanct.

sod·om·y   (sd-m)
n.

Any of various forms of sexual intercourse held to be unnatural or abnormal, especially anal intercourse or bestiality.

witch·craft  (wchkrft)
n.

1. Magic; sorcery.
2. Wicca.
3. A magical or irresistible influence, attraction, or charm.

These would offenses punishable by death. DEATH.

I'd be first up, I'm sure. Let's see: I abandoned the religion of my childhood (Methodist); I've got an entire catagory on my blog called "Dear God: You Suck"; I write about blowjobs, that's gotta be sodomy in some eyes; and I've seriously considered Wicca as a personal spiritual path. So I'm definitely going to get the chair in the new order.

Oh--and did you hear that a judge can decide what religion you practice with your children?

After reading that article, Blurbomat directed me to this one about Pat Buchanan (yes, I've defended him in the past, since he hates the Neo-Cons so much, but no longer) his assertion that liberals have secretly organized a movement called "Cultural Marxism." Here is a quote from the article:

"The phrase refers to a kind of "political correctness" on steroids — a covert assault on the American way of life that allegedly has been developed by the left over the course of the last 70 years. Those who are pushing the "cultural Marxism" scenario aren't merely poking fun at the PC excesses of the "People's Republic of Berkeley," or the couple of American cities whose leaders renamed manholes "person-holes" in a bid to root out sexist thought.

Right-wing ideologues, racists and other extremists have jazzed up political correctness and repackaged it — in its most virulent form, as an anti-Semitic theory that identifies Jews in general and several Jewish intellectuals in particular as nefarious, communistic destroyers. These supposed originators of "cultural Marxism" are seen as conspiratorial plotters intent on making Americans feel guilty and thus subverting their Christian culture.

In a nutshell, the theory posits that a tiny group of Jewish philosophers who fled Germany in the 1930s and set up shop at Columbia University in New York City devised an unorthodox form of "Marxism" that took aim at American society's culture, rather than its economic system.

The theory holds that these self-interested Jews — the so-called "Frankfurt School" of philosophers — planned to try to convince mainstream Americans that white ethnic pride is bad, that sexual liberation is good, and that supposedly traditional American values — Christianity, "family values," and so on — are reactionary and bigoted. With their core values thus subverted, the theory goes, Americans would be quick to sign on to the ideas of the far left."

Um. Ok. And they say the political left is full of whacko consipiracy theories?

After I waded through that article, I went ahead and read the New York Times. Turns out that Indiana is attempting to do the same thing they did in Kansas--demanding the records of Planned Parenthood patients under 14 years old to allegedly investigate sexual molestation of minors. This time, however, abortion isn't involved at all--they just want to monitor the sexual behavior of minors. I was sexually active at 14 (I know, I know--it seems crazy to me now); and I was also a patient of a local Planned Parenthood type clinic. The idea that the state would be allowed to review my records and then call me in for questioning to determine exactly how I was sexually active is just beyond words.

There were some signs of hope, however.

Everyone is all excited about the news that Deep Throat was W. Mark Felt, the number two man at the FBI during Nixon's reign. Charlie and I were talking about it last night and Charlie wondered what made Mr. Felt come forward now; it got me thinking.

Perhaps in light of the recent Newsweek scandal (where a story was retracted because the "anonymous source" changed his/her tune), Mr. Felt thought coming forward would remind people of the important role the press plays in this country--and that anonymous sources are a critical part of that role and can bring down a president.

At least that's my theory. Course, most conservatives think that Mr. Felt is a traitor. But then, most conservatives these days would think Nixon was a liberal.

I'll say it again; this is all breaking my heart. All of this crazy stuff I've linked to has happened in the last WEEK. I love my country, and the idea of making it a Christian Dominion makes me want to tear my hair out.

I'm going to go cry now. At least Jon Stewart is back from vacation.

VOTE, and the plan

VOTE.

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Another day.

I didn’t realize it, but before (you know, before last week) I woke up every day with that Christmas morning feeling--that excitement and joy of  “Oh my--I’m pregnant!”

I haven’t shaken that feeling yet. Now, I wake up, feel the joy, and them boom... reality hits. If it doesn’t hit right away before I get out of bed, it certainly does when I go into the hallway to the restroom and see the empty room we were getting ready to paint for the boys.

This morning, I decided to read my little recovery meditation books and write in my journal. That was hard, because I hadn’t written yet by hand about what happened. I’ve been out of the habit of doing this morning ritual, since I got pregnant, because I was usually either too tired or too sick to take the time.

I usually end this ritual with a brief prayer and a few moments of quiet. Here is a version of what I usually pray:

“God, fill me with your grace and your light and make me a channel of your peace. Relieve me of my character defects so that I can better serve you and others. Help me be the best person I can be today.”

Today’s prayer was more like this:

“God, fuck your grace and your light. Why are you such an asshole? What the hell is the point of your plan for my life? I don’t like you very much right now. Fuck you. Amen.”

Ah, well, at least it’s a start. I do believe that God can take it.

Last night I went to a meeting for the first time. I really needed it, since heroin sounds PRETTY FUCKING GOOD about now. It helped, although I was pretty edgy and nervous about being around people, even people who love and support me. We were all reading from one of the books we read at those meetings, and when my turn came, the paragraph I was supposed to read was the St. Francis Prayer (sorry, y’all will have to look it up, I told you I can’t link from my Mac). God has a fucking sense of humor, I’ll tell you that.

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VOTE.

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I wanted to tell you all a little bit about The Plan.

Right after the surgery, I was able to come up with this simple strategy and plan. I’m glad I did it before everything really hit me and I lost my shit (it’s still lost, by the way. If you happen to see my shit, send it home).

So here it is.

1. MOURN. First on the list is just a lot of tears. Tomorrow, around 6pm, we’re having a small gathering of friends to have a memorial, and say goodbye. Our friend Jim the opera singer will sing Amazing Grace, and then we’re all going to plant daffodil bulbs, since daffodils will come up about the time the boys were due. If you think of us around 6pm EST tomorrow, just say a quick prayer. You have no idea how much all of your prayers have meant to me.

2. HEAL. This is hardest for me, because I want to move forward already, and not take the time to just feel better.  I have more energy now, ironically, then I did the last month of my pregnancy (particularly the last week--remember those “I’m so tired” posts? I think I was already pretty sick at that point). But I have a lot of muscle aches and muscle weakness, and I’m also battling some pretty awful headaches (I’m trying to get in touch with the doctor to find out if I need to be worried about them). Thankfully, I’m not working this week, and I don’t have to work again until I’m ready (my bosses are just being awesome). So I have time to heal. But again, I’m impatient.

3. GET BACK IN SHAPE. Before ART, I was extremely active. I went to the gym three or four times a week. I walked my dog (and my neighbor’s dog) about two miles up and down serious hills every weekday morning. I biked about eight miles to work. I hiked on the weekends. I walked all over the city to get to meetings. I was still fat, but I had great endurance and a layer of hard muscle under that fat. Sadly, I reacted very strongly to all of those medications. Even just Clomid fucked me up enough that once I started taking it, my exercise began to slack off. By February, when I began my round of injectibles for IVF, I stopped going to the gym altogether. I still walked, and still hiked, even biked occasionally, but by April when I developed OHSS I stopped pretty much everything. The last serious hike I did was on Memorial Day weekend.

I want my body back. I want to be in charge of it again, and I want to rediscover all of my strength, endurance, and muscle.

4. LOSE WEIGHT. I’m up nearly 100lbs from the photo I have posted here on the blog. Yep. That was taken on Labor Day Weekend of 2003, when I was at my most fit, and a successful member of Weight Watcher’s. The following eight months put back 50lbs that I’d lost on Weight Watchers, and then the pregnancy (including the preeclampsia fluid weight) put on another 50. I know that the water weight and the pregnancy weight should come off fairly quickly once I get active again, and then I want to work back toward getting to a nice healthy weight. I have no plans to become skinny or anything, but I want my health back. I know this will help the most with any residual blood pressure issues I’ll have from the preeclampsia, so that’s an important goal. This will be the last time I’m fat. I will probably rejoin Weight Watchers, since I’ve heard cool things about their newest plan.

5. VACATION. Charlie and I aren’t rich, but we need a real vacation together. Since we got sober (almost nine years ago), all of our vacations have involved camping. Now, I love camping, but it’s work. We want to go someplace where we lay about and people bring us things. I’ve got some dough in my retirement account, and I’m cashing some in and we’re going to the islands. Probably after Christmas. I’ve never seen blue ocean water, and I can’t wait.

6. TRY, TRY AGAIN. Next spring, when I’m back in shape and have lost some weight, if Dr. Mama thinks I’m ready, we’ll try again. We are blessed to have 3 frozen eight-celled embryos and another 11 fertilized eggs left from that first crazy IVF retrieval. My RE is a specialist in Natural IVF and FET, and we’ll be doing it all natural. This means just monitoring my cycle, and transferring embryos when my lining looks good, and no drugs (since I am not the major player in our infertility, this should be fine). We’ll probably do only one or two embryos at a time, since we hope to avoid multiples (much higher risk of preeclampsia with multiples). Since fluid retention plays a role in preeclampsia, and all of the ART drugs make me retain water like crazy, we’re hoping that if I eat a low-salt diet and exercise moderately I can avoid fluid retention early in pregnancy, keeping my blood pressure down and helping the pregnancy get farther along than this one did. If preeclampsia emerges early on again, well, we’ll just have to face that when it comes, won’t we.

So that’s the plan. Obviously, it’s not set in stone, and may change (it would be just too hysterical if we got preggers naturally while in the islands) but it feels good to have it set down. It gives that all-important semblance of CONTROL. Ah, control...

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VOTE. Early and often.