The Barmaiden

Hello!

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The background check bill didn’t pass…

I don’t know about you, but it makes me mad when something that is so well supported by the public doesn’t happen in Congress, and I’m guessing that I’m not the only one who feels that way.

So, if you live in AZ (like I do) and you wanted that background check bill to pass, not so that guns would be illegal, but just so that people would have to be more responsible about buying and selling them, then write to Senator Jeff Flake, who voted against it, and tell him how disappointed you are. I’ll even make it easy for you. Just click this link: http://www.flake.senate.gov/contact.cfm, fill out the form and click send. That’s it! (If, on the other hand, you’re happy it failed, I suppose you could write him and thank him. More power to you.) 

For the record, McCain voted for the bill. So there’s that…and for my friends in WA, MA, and CA - rest easy, your Senators voted to support it.

Not sure how your Senator voted? Check this handy dandy little list out:

http://www.demandaction.org/WhatsNext?akid=596.1819155.jDDUdg&rd=1&t=1

Mad about how they voted? Write to them! If you don’t participate in the process, you have no right to complain about it.

Filed under I posted this on Facebook too Let the unfriending begin!

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I’ve been going on walkabout in the desert with my dogs a lot lately…trying to take advantage of the nice weather before summer hits and I pretend that there isn’t a desert at the end of my street for a few months. I try to remember to take pictures of the cool stuff I see - even if it is just with my iPhone’s camera.

So, here are some of my favorites from the past few days. (Picture of my dog thrown in there so you get a sense of scale for how giant these Saguaros are!)

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The past couple days in Seattle have been amazing and, at the same time, hard.

You see, I am so very lucky because I have an amazing group of friends who, even when we haven’t seen each other for over a year, it feels like no time has passed. We fall right back into the rhythm of our friendships and conversation. It’s just so easy.

This time the topics have been a bit heavier than usual - because some conversations are just too hard to have over the phone and some things are inappropriate to share via email.

So there have been some tears and sadness mixed in with the usual laughter. A friend has died, a few lost beloved pets, and oh yeah, I lost a baby. Jobs have changed and people have moved away and couples have broken up and others are engaged and someone’s four year old is apparently a truly horrible child to be around.

Oh, and there has also been really delicious food and beer. So there’s that. I have three more days here. They’ll probably go by way too fast.

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How Vacations Affect Your Happiness

Researchers from the Netherlands set out to measure the effect that vacations have on overall happiness and how long it lasts. The study showed that the largest boost in happiness comes from the simple act of planning a vacation. In the study, the effect of vacation anticipation boosted happiness for eight weeks. After the vacation, happiness quickly dropped back to baseline levels for most people.

I think this means that I need to start talking about my trip to the beach house in Mexico in April as soon as I get back from Seattle on Monday… So, you know, you have that to look forward to…

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Somehow I have five different training sessions scheduled this week - all in the 2 days I’m working before leaving for Seattle. I can’t decide if this is going to make my week longer or shorter…

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Ah, Seattle…

So, for those of you who don’t know this, twice upon a time, I lived in Seattle, and I absolutely loved it there. The first time, I moved there to go to grad school. I fell in love with the city from the moment I saw it. (The fireworks going off around the Space Needle as I pulled into town for the first time on the 4th of July might have helped a bit.)

Then I left for Honolulu because, well, when you have an opportunity to move to Hawaii, you take it. A few years (and a chunk of time in Boston and Barcelona) later, I had the opportunity to move back and I jumped at the chance.

Three years later, I foolishly left again, this time for Santa Monica. Now I live in Phoenix (sigh) and I so wish that I could move back, but it’s just not in the cards at the moment (sometimes I hate being a grown up so much!)

But! Thursday morning I get to fly to Seattle for the weekend, and I am just SO very excited! I need some Manny’s Pale Ale, some delicious foods that don’t seem to exist in the desert, and some time with my Seattle peeps like whoa.

So I guess what I’m asking is… is it Thursday yet?

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Confronting Life - Aaron Gouveia and his wife were already having the worst day of their lives. Then came the abortion protesters.

I’m not a religious person and I’ve never believed in heaven or hell. But there is a hell on Earth. Hell is sitting next to the person you love most and listening to her wail hysterically because her heart just broke into a million pieces. Hell is watching her entire body convulse with sobs because she’s being tortured with grief. For as long as I live and no matter how many children we have, I will never forget that sound. And I vowed to do everything in my power to make sure she’d never make it again.

Across a crowded street, two people with “God Is Pro-Life!” signs and pictures of torn-up fetuses managed to drive the blade in even deeper. Again, I was left trying to console the inconsolable, feeling even more helpless this time, because I wasn’t allowed into surgery with her.

Running on pure adrenaline, and without even a hint of a plan, I grabbed my cell phone and crossed the street. I didn’t know what to say or how to say it, I just knew I wanted to make public the cowardice of these protesters.

This. This is what I should have done. Or maybe it’s what I should do someday? 

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Now that I’m typing this, I think that I should have done this entry on that there typewriter!

But, I didn’t. 

So, check out what I found this weekend while I was out hunting for a table base for my (future) kitchen table.

Also, I have a whole new respect for people who wrote actual books/papers/anything really on these things! It ain’t easy! 

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This is going to be a post about abortion, so if you don’t want to read about it, go ahead and skip it. I won’t be offended. All this talk about Roe v. Wade and how many babies are killed every year is just making me so angry. I’m too close to the issue now. 

You all know that I lost a baby a few months ago. It sucked. And it made me very sad. But I never told you about my experience with trying to resolve the dead/dying baby stuck in my uterus problem. Mostly because it, too, sucked, and made me both sad and angry.

You see, I live in Arizona. This is important because they recently passed a law prohibiting abortions after 20 weeks. (Now, this hadn’t gone into effect back in November, but most abortion clinics in Phoenix have been following this rule for years.) The reasoning for this? That ‘women have enough time to make a decision before 20 weeks.’

Yeah, right.

You see, my baby had something really horribly wrong with it, but it took weeks to figure this out for sure. The first ultrasound I had was perfect. The second one was also perfect. In fact, the NT test was perfect. There would have been no indication whatsoever that anything was wrong if my doctor hadn’t done a blood test and seen just how out of whack my hormone levels were. The result? Until 15 weeks, we thought everything was great.

Then the testing (and stressing/worrying) began. They made us wait until 16 weeks for an amnio, because before that it carries a risk of club foot. (Yes, club foot, like it’s still 1955 around here.) So we waited until 16 weeks, but then they couldn’t do the amnio because there wasn’t enough fluid (yet another indicator that something is wrong, but not enough to know for sure.) They told us to wait two weeks and come back.

So at 18 weeks, I went back for another amnio. Still not enough fluid, and now the baby’s head is measuring big. Still not enough to be conclusive though. So we did the Harmony test. It takes 10 business days to get those results. 

We go back at 19 weeks 5 days and are told that the Harmony test come back as inconclusive. This is not good. They did ultrasounds for hours and found cysts in the baby’s brain, missing chunks of cerebellum, a ridiculously huge hole in the heart, and problems with the kidneys. They took us into a tiny room and told us that the defects were ‘incompatible with life’ and that we could terminate now, or wait for the inevitable. It was possible that the baby could make it full term, but would be pretty much guaranteed to die within minutes or hours of birth if it even made it that far.

For the record, no one should ever have to hear that. Ever. It’s not fair, and it still feels like I was punched in the gut when I think about it.

So we made the decision to terminate. Because the way I saw it, my baby was suffering and wasn’t going to live and why should I make it suffer any longer than it absolutely has to? It’s not fair to either of us to have to go through all that.

And then the drama began. Because as I said, I was 19 weeks, 5 days pregnant. Oh, and it was the Monday before Thanksgiving. Not the best timing. You see, in Arizona, you have to consult with a doctor at least 24 hours prior to having an abortion. And most clinics won’t perform the procedure after 20 weeks. I had two days.

The doctor had referred us to a private clinic. I called, and they said they would see us the next morning. Oh, but they don’t take insurance and they would need $4000 up front to pay for the procedure. Um, I didn’t have $4000 to pay for an abortion. (Well, I should say that I wasn’t willing to pay $4000 for an abortion. Not when I had insurance that would cover such things.)

We spent the next several hours calling our insurance company and trying to get a referral somewhere that would accept our insurance. They wouldn’t provide names of abortion clinics. My doctor wouldn’t do the procedure. Finally, I called Planned Parenthood. Huzzah! They take my insurance, and they do abortions until 23 weeks - which is a good thing, because they don’t have an opening for the consult until the next Monday (when I would be 20 weeks 5 days).

I’m told that the consult will only take an hour or so and that I have to do an ultrasound first. My appointment is at 8 AM. The husband takes the morning off work so that he can go with me. During the ultrasound I’m supposed to hear the baby’s heart beat and see it on the screen before the consultation with the doctor. Lovely. I don’t mind too much because I’ve already been through a gazillion ultrasounds up to this point, but it still makes me mad that it’s required. 

To get into the clinic, I had to park in a tiny parking lot surrounded by protestors. They yelled at me that ‘they could help’ and that I didn’t have to ‘murder my baby’ as I walked in the door. (I flipped them off and one asked ‘why are you so angry?’ I wanted to scream at them that they had no clue what I was going through and they should just shut up already.) Inside the doors, there were at least a dozen women, most of them looking shell-shocked and sad - avoiding eye contact. One was crying while her friend consoled her. Titanic was playing on a TV in the corner.

We waited in that room for 4 hours before they called my name for the ultrasound. Titanic ended and started again. 

After the ultrasound (which was actually fine - the tech was very nice and understanding of our situation) we waited another 2 hours for the consult with the doctor. The husband was so late for work at the point, that I sent him off. I could get through this last part by myself.

Finally, the doctor called my name. He was this older black gentleman wearing a grey sweater. He had kind eyes. He told me that he had to have a conversation with me to make sure that I was ‘sane’ and to ask me a few state-mandated questions. He made me look at a picture of the ultrasound. He pointed out the baby’s head, arms, feet. I explained that we were terminating due to massive birth defects and he just nodded. Then the questions.

1. Are you doing this of your own free will? (Apparently they’re worried that people are being forced to have abortions?)

2. Are you doing this because of the race of the child? (REALLY?)

3. Are you doing this because of the sex of the child? (Again, REALLY???)

He asked me if I had any questions. I asked about how long the procedure would take, how long it would take to recover. He thanked me for making the process easy, whatever that means. (I think it means that I was clearly sane and didn’t cry.)

When I left the clinic, I was again barraged by the protestors outside. Here I am, having the worst day/week/month ever. Making THE hardest decision that I have ever had to make, that is quite literally breaking my heart, and these assholes have the nerve to yell at me and question my judgement? I cried the whole way home.

And then I have to read posts on Facebook from friends and their parents and listen to the news about how awful it is that babies die every year because of abortions, and all I can think about is how much pain and suffering that abortion prevented for me, my family, and my baby. And how dare they judge me or tell me that I can’t do that? 

And while these same people rant and rave about their ‘right to bear arms’ and how the government is taking away all of their rights, I will sit in my corner and cry about my lost baby and be so thankful that the 20 week abortion ban hadn’t gone into effect when I was in that situation. And I’m so very angry about all the women who come after me who have to carry a dying baby to term just because some people think they have the right to legislate what a woman does with her body.

And I will support Planned Parenthood forever because they helped me when no one else would. Even if they did make me watch Titanic twice while I waited.