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