I’m sorry I didn’t get around to writing this email sooner. My 18 month old has been teething and she missed her mommy this morning. We had some much needed family time this afternoon!
I am so grateful for your participation in the meeting we had today. So many good and earnest people came together to honestly share their experiences with the failures of the for-profit healthcare system. I am especially grateful to the members of the MAMA Campaign, who shared their vision for lowering costs and improving outcomes in maternity care by increasing access to Certified Professional Midwives, and the supporters of MomsRising who spoke so eloquently to the ways in which women in particular are disenfranchised by the broken healthcare system. When we take time off to care for our children, we either pay a huge part of our family income to get access to healthcare or we lose our insurance and gamble the financial health of our families on whether or not we get sick. We spoke with one voice about the importance of reform and our support for government provided universal healthcare. Many of us even expressed our willingness to pay more taxes to provide funds for
this important undertaking.
I want to thank each and every person who shared their personal stories in the hopes that someone else’s life would be improved if they spoke out. And, Nate, I want to thank you for listening and joining in and taking our words and ideas to share with the Senator. God bless you all for taking the time to work for a better America.
Sincerely,
Alison Cole Duren-Sutherland
Rachel,
I've worked in abortion care for six years now, and I want to thank you so much for your unflinching coverage of the murder of Kansas abortion provider and Christian grandfather George Tiller. There weren't really any other places in the media where I felt like someone care about the experience of clinic workers in the wake of such terrible violence. Thanks for "getting it" in a way that even my own partner, who is pro-choice because he knows it's none of his business, did not.
I am also really grateful for your coverage of health care reform. These days at the abortion clinic, I'm doing the health insurance billing, and this perspective on the health care system has made me a somewhat obsessive advocate for health care reform. Profit-driven insurance companies need to be reigned in. Only in the health care arena does the consumer not know what they will be responsible for paying until long after they have been provided with services, because insurance companies are not bound by the information they give to patients and doctor's offices about what will be covered.
The real reason I am writing to you right now, though, is because I think you might be able to "get it" on another issue that is sometimes invisible to the mainstream media, probably because, like abortion, it is a women's health issue. But it is also a health care reform issue, a public health issue, and a deficit reduction issue: midwifery care and out of hospital birth.
The US has abysmal maternal and infant mortality rates, while spending huge amounts of money on high-tech maternity care, most of which came into use before it's benefits had been rigorously demonstrated. Health care reform needs evidence-based birth care. Science is now beginning to back up leaving birth alone, and when women give birth with minimal intervention, the cost-savings is huge. That is why Certified Professional Midwives need to be a part of health care reform. If CPMs were federally recognized as eligible for reimbursement by Medicaid, poor women would have increased access to safe, evidence-based, low-cost care. In the midst of all the corporate advocacy happening in Washington, women from the MAMA Campaign and The Big Push for Midwives are trying to get the voices of women and families heard. I am writing to ask you to cover the movement for the full range of reproductive justice in health care reform.
The bottom line is that we need to reduce health care costs, or health care reform just won't work. Women who choose to prevent pregnancy when they are not prepared to be parents save money for their insurer (the state in the case of a public plan). Women who do not wish to be pregnant but are will save their insurer money by choosing abortion. Women who are carrying a pregnancy to term and wish to seek midwifery care in an out of hospital setting will save their insurer money because interventions will be reduced. Any reasonable insurer, while not mandating a woman to do any of these things, will provide her the coverage to do these things if she so chooses. By honoring a woman's own wisdom about her reproductive choices, insurers win as does the dignity of the woman, who is given every opportunity to control her reproductive destiny.
I am a huge fan and love listening to your show on my computer at work. Thanks for what you do.
Sincerely,
Alison Cole Duren-Sutheralnd
I believe in the equality of all people. But I am also very strongly woman-identified, as a women's reproductive health worker and myself a mother of a daughter, and a woman raised in a house by mother and grandmother. In my activism, I suppose part of me feels that men, so long the privileged sex, can take care of themselves; to make equality, we need to make things better off for women, so long subjugated around the world, even into the 21st century. And I know that what is good for women is good for societies, as mothers are responsible for raising the citizens. My work for women, my passion for women's issues is human rights work.
However, my woman-focus can serve to alienate men, even my dear feminist male partner. It's a bummer, and something I need to focus on correcting. The other day, he reminded me that our home-birth wasn't only beneficial to me and Ramona, but also to him, and that my birth work is not only about women, but people, families. It is absolutely true. But full control of our bodies is something that white men take for granted and women & people of color must fight for; and men can choose not to participate in the realities of pregnancy, birth, and parenting but women cannot. So, I fight for women.
Jamie said that he thinks this is a change in me, being so woman-identified. I still care about humanity as a whole. But my work in this life is with pregnant women, and as my learning progresses, I am seeing everyday more clearly how all my work comes together. I also know that I could not do this work, I could not support women (and families) without some balance in my life; Jamie's masculinity helps to bring balance into my life. His support and love have been absolutely necessary for me to progress on my journey toward midwifery and women's health advocacy. I am so grateful for him, and the family that we have made together. He is the partner that I need to do this work.
I can never remember what I've said to whom, and I'm not going to go back and read every post I've written since Ramona was born, so maybe this will be the second time I've mused on the phenomenon of the gendering of babies. I do think I mentioned here that I've been interrupted while on my cell phone by strangers asking if Ramona is a boy or a girl. These days, mostly people just refer to her as though she's a boy. Sometimes I correct them, and they act horrified at the error...I don't really care, except I don't want Ramona to get confused about what sex she is. If we cared, we could get her ears peirced (which someone in our building told us we HAD to do while she was a newborn), or dress her in pink. But we don't, so people think she's a boy. This is because boy babies and girl babies don't look especially different. Our culture seems to be pretty uncomfortable with this fact, however, which is why all the frilly pink crap in the girl-baby section. The sad truth is that, just as many white people don't think they have any culture, when a child isn't obviously gendered, the assumption is made: male. Male is still seen as neutral, the norm. Just ask the illustrations in anatomy books, or the people who use "he" as a universal pronoun. I know that I'm living in the 1970's in my refusal to act like I live in a "post-feminsit" world, but I HAVE GOOD REASON. Rather than being comfortable with the ambiguity of my daughter's gender, she must be labled correctly by people who will never see her again, because, apparently, it makes a huge difference whether she's a boy or a girl. These strangers want frilly pink markers. They want me to put her in scratchy, uncomfortable clothes that make it hard for her to mover around so they know that she's a girl. I refuse. For Halloween, we dressed her up as a U of O football player, an outfit Grandma and Grandpa McCurdy got on clearance before there was even a grandbaby to give it to. She was a cute little football player. When I corrected someone about her sex on Halloween, they seemed preplexed: "But, she's dressed...like a football player." Yeah, it's a Halloween costume. But after a day of "Oh, what a big man!" and "Hey, little tough guy!" the next day I put her in pink pants and a onesie with little ruffles on the sleeves. She was the same kid both days, but you wouldn't know it from how people responded to her: "Oh, what a pretty girl" and "Aren't you a litle sweetheart?" Sigh.
I am so grateful to have found a job back with my old employer in a new part-time position with flexible hours to allow for mothering and eventually midwifery apprenticeship. Jamie and I will now spend just about equal time away from home doing paid work, and equal time at home with the babe. When I told a friend about this, he gave me kudos for putting my gender equity money where my mouth was, but that's not why I wanted to do this. Jamie's been miserable at work, and although being an at-home parent is no cake-walk, we both love spending time with Ramona, and I think part of Jamie's unhappiness has been missing his time with her. We'll both have the joy of coming home to her after a day at work, along with the joy of waking up in the morning with a whole day filled with her ahead of us. And the added bonus of saying fuck you to traditional gender roles.
I am so grateful that I Jamie and I love mothering my daughter, but I'm shocked by the way my mothering is policed. At my 10 year high-school reunion, another woman with a baby approached me and gushed, "Don't you just LOVE being a mom?" Pushing the stroller with the sleeping baby in it the other day, lost in thought, a stranger said to me, "Smile when you do that, that's the joy of your life." And I do, and it is, but what did they know about it? As a woman, I'm supposed to be Joyfully consumed by my baby, and otherwise happily vacant. Jamie, however, is not really supposed to be as absorbed with Ramona, but plagued by a general anxiety about financially supporting us. He isn't expected to smile. And then there are the people who are shocked to hear that she's a girl, just because she isn't wearing a dress or pink or ruffles. There are people that expect us to introduce formula, have her sleep in her crib, follow the CDC vaccination schedule, put her in day care, and on and on. I'm glad that we're strong enough to figure out what works for us as parents without paying attention to what everyone else thinks our parenting ought to look like.
- Mood:
grateful
- Mood:
anxious
Maybe my sense of humor has been dulled by my daily struggle to transcend the heteronormativity of my family's current existence -- I am desperately trying not to become a housewife, and to figure out how my partner can have an equal role in parenting while working 40 hours a week to support us. When daddy's around, I want him to be as present, as in-tune to her needs as I am, and he simply doesn't have enough opportunity to, nor can he provide for her needs in the same way I can (what with the breastfeeding). For the most part, my days with Ramona are pure joy. But in the past four months, I've been away from her for only about ten hours total, and it's enough to make me feel sometimes like THE parent rather than part of a team. I am at the last frontier of gender equity, trying desperately to reconcile the separate-but-equal nature of parental equality in these early days of our parenthood, trying to believe in a time when our equality will be more equal. I know it's coming, and that one day I'll mourn the loss of the intense connection I have now with my baby girl. But for now, I need to get out more, and when I do, I'll be wearing sensible shoes.
- Mood:
cranky
I guess they were too busy writing the article undermining women's choices to terminate a pregnancy. "Study Links Abortion and Preemies" (found here) has quite a title, but they're already backpedaling by the second sentence. The data is from 1959 to 1966. Roe v. Wade? 1973. So, yes, folks, if we're talking about data from a time where abortions were illegal (and we include miscarriages as "abortions," which the study also does) then, yes, we've got a study that links abortion and premature births. Please note: this study does not demonstrate a link between safe, legal abortion performed by a trained health care provider and ANYTHING. "Women need to be informed about these risks," says the researcher who penned the study. But the truth is, as Time points out, this study doesn't really say anything about risks to women who choose abortion today. Grr.
- Mood:
aggravated
