There Is No Wealth But Life

I Don’t Trust the Pro-life Movement

By Rae January 22, 2013 Things of Which We Do Not Speak 12 Comments

I don’t trust the pro-life movement. I am a part of it, but I do not trust it.

My distrust does not come from the fact that the movement is focused on opposing abortion rather than opposing everything that violates the sanctity of life. I am fine with that because I can be part of many movements.

My distrust arises from the fact that the movement is based on opposing abortion rather than supporting life. The pro-life movement is largely about self-righteous anger. There is certainly a place for anger, but it is nothing short of devastating to realize that a movement you thought existed to support life really only exists to make people feel better about themselves.

I have hinted at a lot in other posts: I have a complete distrust for those who claim to care about the pill causing miscarriages but then never bother to mention things such as NSAIDs and breastfeeding. Apparently risk of miscarriage only matters if we are trying to fight contraception? But this is only part of my mistrust of the pro-life movement.

I was never naive about the pro-life movement. In my early teens I would serve at pro-life fundraisers. I remember being more than a little critical of the speakers. It went without saying that the fundraising atmosphere was more about privileged people enjoying a nice evening out with their privileged friends rather than about doing anything to actually reduce the frequency of abortion.

In college I was part of a more savvy pro-life group. We did things such as show up at the state house for photo ops so that it wouldn’t look like all pro-lifers were middle aged men. I remember one speaker talking to me about the fact that abortion could have been severely restricted in her state if only the pro-life groups could work together. One group had supported a law which would have made abortions very difficult after some early date, while the other group had refused to support anything other than a complete ban. Thus the more permissive law remained in place.

It is fair to say that I never had an idealized view of the pro-life movement. But I suppose I thought that more good was done, that we valued life more than we actually do.

Last year Josh and I gave money to support various local pro-life efforts. We ran in a race to raise funds for a medical practice that claims to support women regardless of their socioeconomic status and to provide medical care for women with crisis pregnancies.

In the fall I tried seeking help from these same organizations and got none. I called one organization at 4:45 pm when their website said they closed at 5:00. I got an answering machine, and no one ever called me back.

I called the medical practice the next day. I was seeking help for a woman in a crisis pregnancy who was having brown bleeding, possibly a sign of an impending miscarriage which might be prevented by progesterone supplementation. I did not know, I am not a doctor, but I had to try. They told me to go to the emergency room. I questioned. They said that they would have to schedule a time to meet with us to discuss a payment plan since the mother was uninsured, and it did not matter that I was willing to just cover the costs out of pocket. The woman relented only a little and said that she would refer me to a nurse for consultation since I was a patient at the practice. The nurse told me that we should go to the emergency room if we thought it was serious, but that maybe it was nothing so we did not really need to go to the emergency room unless the bleeding got out of control.

If this had been my baby, my body, I would have at least had hormones tested that day and been given a “just-in-case” prescription. But this was not my body, and it was not my baby, so it was not valued.

I called a third pro-life center, one with which I had no previous interaction. Their website said that they provided medical referrals and I thought that meant that they would be able to suggest an alternate medical provider who would care about the life of an unborn child. They returned my call promptly and told me to take the woman to the emergency room if she was bleeding. They were very kind and helpful, but they did not actually provide the resources listed.

All of these organizations wanted to make sure that the woman did not have an abortion, but no one cared if she had a miscarriage.

A few months later our parish poor box was dedicated to the organization that never bothered to return my call. Somehow I could not come up with extra money to give that month.

The pro-life medical center sent us multiple requests for donation, most poignantly an appeals for expanding ultrasounds. I wanted to spit, as I thought about the fact that they raised funds to use for “fun” ultrasounds for privileged women, but would not give an ultrasound to a woman without medical care who needed to date her pregnancy before it was too late to get an accurate date. Correctly dating a pregnancy is important for health outcomes, among them reducing the rate of stillbirth. But who cares if the baby dies, so long as it is not aborted?

It is true that abortion is especially grievous. There is a difference between killing someone, and simply watching her die.

But I care so very much about saving people that the difference between direct killing and negligence sometimes feels smaller than it actually is.

It hurts to see so many resources focused on things that are only about making pro-life individuals feel better. People mean well, but their good intentions do nothing to actually help.

So why do I identify with such a pathetic group? Why am I still a part of the pro-life movement?

I care.

Unlike those who are only looking to argue, I can’t abandon truth and life simply because everyone stinks at promoting it.

And I do take some minor consolation in the fact that the pro-life movement is good for one thing: it has raised up a group of young women who are significantly less likely to choose abortion than their peers. That is a tremendous victory that I have never seen recognized, let alone sufficiently celebrated.

I pray. I do what I can in my own little sphere. I give less money to pro-life organizations and more to food pantries. I make certain to second-guess myself because I know that I am part of a larger group which is completely unworthy of trust.

When I Can’t Talk to Josh

By Rae January 21, 2013 The Feminine 3 Comments

Josh is the first person I turn to when I want to talk about any question related to theology, philosophy, or ethics. Josh shares my values, is somewhere between much smarter to infinitely more intelligent than me depending upon the day, and has a distinctly different education than mine. Josh also tends to zig traditionalist where I zag feminist, and can be counted on to be annoyingly “good” when I am rebellious.

But there is one issue that I cannot discuss with him. In the past we could talk about it, but then he realized something a few years ago, and ever since then his eyes glaze over in boredom and I can tell that there is no way to get him to pay attention to what he considers to be such a ridiculous non-issue.

That topic is, of course, all questions surrounding the supposed abortifacient properties of the pill. One day I was saying something or other to Josh about it, and he stopped me mid-ramble. What I was saying referenced the fact that no half-way reasonable source suggests that the absolute chance of miscarriage is higher for women on the pill, it is simply a question of whether the relative risk is higher per ovulation. Josh clarified the facts behind this (you can look up the numbers for yourself if you care to do so) and that is where I lost him.

Josh believes that it is absurd to call something an abortifacient unless it raises the absolute risk of miscarriage (or spontaneous abortion, if you insist on the term). I delight in the nuances of bioethics and like to torture myself by thinking about things such as a potential duty to avoid pregnancy when one is overweight. But while Josh is by far the most conscientious man I know, he does not enjoy wasting his time with stupid questions. He will talk with me for hours about when it is and is not permissible to prophylacticly treat menstrual or ovulatory cramps with NSAIDs (because there is evidence that NSAIDs actually increase the absolute rate of miscarriages and birth defects), but he simply can’t be made to care about these sorts of arguments over the pill.

And this is why I find myself in ridiculous discussions online. You see, I simply can’t stand it when Josh won’t talk to me, and thus I am driven to bash my head against a stone wall. You can’t blame me, can you?

I am thankful 1/20/13

By Rae January 20, 2013 Gratitude 2 Comments

For a place to walk outside. Even the most depressing of winter scenery (seriously, where is the snow?!!) is wonderfully rejuvenating for me compared to being stuck indoors. I am so very thankful that we live within walking distance of bike paths where I can pretend that there is endless space to walk without thinking about cars.

For books. It feels as if I can never read (not entirely true) but just looking at books and thinking about the thoughts contained within them makes me a little happier.

For work. This week was very intense for me, and the busiest/most stressful for Josh. But still, our jobs are great and it is so much better to be employed than not. Amen.

On Not Talking About Nannies

By Rae January 19, 2013 Things of Which We Do Not Speak

I have finally learned that when SAHMs start referencing nannies, it is time for me to close my browser. The truth is that most people who are not experienced with nannies know nothing about how it actually works, that there are many ways that it works, and that anyone who has a bad day is going to be more likely to say stupid things to excuse their failures.

I should also say that I have finally learned that there is often a dramatic difference between extended babysitting (which people refer to as nannying) and live-in nannying (which is what I did).

I do not ever try to reason with crazy exhausted SAHMs because I know what they will say. They will say that a nanny could never understand because a nanny can never know the pressure that comes from loving a child with a mother’s love. I don’t think that it would help if I informed these women of how terribly unlucky their children are to have such a “mother’s love.”

I don’t know what it is like to be a mother, but I do know what it is like to get up in the middle of the night to care for a sick child because the parents are ignoring the cries in favor of sleep.

I don’t know what it is like to be a mother, but I do know what it is like to be afraid to take time off because you know that the alternate caretakers–the parents–will not care for the child adequately.

I do not know what it is like to be a mother, but I do know what it is like to never get a real break because if you get lost in your reading during your hours off (when the father is in charge) the two year old might get seriously hurt.

I don’t know what it is like to be a mother, but I know what it is like to have to be excruciatingly consistent with a child because that is the only consistency the child will get.

I don’t know what it is like to be a mother, but I do know what it takes to be creative with discipline because selfish, adult-focused punishment is not even on the table as an option in your mind.

I don’t know what it is like to be a mother, but I do know what it is like to constantly be on guard to attempt to redirect a child’s affection toward someone who does not love him as much as you do, precisely because you love the child and know that someday you will be gone and the children will be left with their mother.

. . .

Comments closed because while I am very grateful to have reached a point of emotional objectivity (it only took 9 years, yo! Further proof that I am not a mother, eh?) I still get disproportionately annoyed by people who can never understand but still speak with such absurd confidence.

Live Like You Love

By Rae January 17, 2013 Relationships 9 Comments

On a typical evening I am home by the time that Josh arrives. One of the advantages of a small apartment is that I always hear Josh arrive, so without thinking I stop whatever I am doing and go to the door to greet him.

The other evening I was not feeling well and so I stayed on the couch. When Josh looked over and saw me he was surprised and said that he did not realize that I was home, because I had not been at the door. I told him that I had at least closed my laptop and turned toward him. I asked if that “counted” and he said yes, except that it did not count for letting him know that I was home. I was surprised to realize that I really do greet Josh at the door every night. Apparently I really am that clingy.

Then I remembered.

Perhaps I am incredibly obsessed with Josh, and that is why I unthinkingly stop whatever it is I am doing when he arrives home. Or, perhaps I am obsessed with him because I deliberately focus on him so much.

I don’t remember when it happened, but two years or so ago I decided that I should pay more attention to Josh. One of the things on my imaginary list was to greet him each evening. After all, if Josh were important to me, then clearly I would prioritize him by doing things such as greeting him at the door. Right? Right. Since I knew that he was important, I clearly had to make my behavior reflect that fact.

I did.

And then I quickly forgot why I was doing it, and thus found myself thinking of myself as a crazy-clingy wife who mindlessly drops whatever she is doing to run to greet her husband.

Kathleen Basi has this great post up about how Reality Beats the Fairy Tale All To Pieces. While I never worried that I might miss out on someone more right for me than Josh, I did obsess over whether marriage was right for us. It was an incredible relief to be married, because there was no longer the question of what is right or wrong. I know what is right: there could not possibly be anyone more suited to me than Josh, because Josh is my husband. Duh, huh?

I have always known that love is messy and that things might not work out well. But what I missed in that knowledge was the confidence and joy and sheer delight that comes from living consciously with the understanding that this relationship may indeed be as awesome as it seems.

I no longer think of it consciously as choosing Josh. Instead I think of it as choosing to celebrate rather than fear. I choose to embrace the great Myth of us.

I realized this evening that I am more in love with Josh than I was on our wedding day. I do not love him more, but I am more in love. Of course there have also been days when I have been less in love, but as I get to know Josh better, as we live out our marriage more completely each day, as I love him there is so much more freedom to be in love.

Why I Wear Makeup

By Rae January 16, 2013 Things of Which We Do Not Speak 3 Comments

“Well, you are good at hiding your beauty!” It was the end of the Thanksgiving holiday and my mother listened with mild exasperation as my sister and I discussed how glamorous my mother is. I asked my mother what she meant about me hiding my beauty, and she responded that I do not wear makeup.

By walking around with a clean face I am hiding my beauty.

While the concept seems positively absurd when expressed so explicitly, I was not particularly surprised to hear my mother’s view. I remember how my mother used to make comments such as “my daughters are Plane Janes, but they do look great when they wear makeup!”

It is not clear that I ever internalized my mother’s views, but it does surprise me when subtler women tell themselves that they want their daughters to grow up believing that they are naturally beautiful, even though they show their daughters what they really believe by wearing makeup daily. My mother just happens to be more blunt.

A few weeks later I styled my hair and applied makeup. Then I put on glasses. I was going to negotiate. I wanted to look competent and intelligent.

I got what I wanted. It probably had nothing to do with wearing makeup, but I do wear makeup whenever I think it may give me an advantage. It contributes to a society with a skewed view of beauty. It is a form of participation in a cultural lie about what it means to be a woman. It is an act of acquiescence to a system that suppresses life in the fullest sense. But these days I prefer to participate in (mild) evil rather than sacrifice myself to make some sort of statement about what I think life should be.

Makeup is all but required for my job. In general I wear the least that I can get away with. Today I used the eyebrow pencil, mascara, and foundation pictured above. It takes me about three minutes to apply (because I am painfully slow with mascara, and yes, I curl my nonexistent eyelashes as well) and costs me about $20 each year. During times when I am motivated to improve my appearance (job-hunting, for instance) I may wear a bit more makeup.

I would not wear makeup at all in an ideal world, but for today I am unwilling to sacrifice the immediate gains that come from makeup for the sake of something as luxurious as a fully integrated self.

Tired and Cryptic

By Rae January 15, 2013 Meta 1 Comment

I am so tired. How tired? So tired I thought of using the contraction “y’all” in this post. Yikes.

JentoInfinity says that I am cryptic. I tend to believe that that is a sign of having nothing to say. Of course there are always things going on in my life that I choose not to post about, but I generally choose to avoid them completely. I’m no expert in cryptography, so why dance with both Miss Communication and Mister Inappropriate? Er, I mean, why deliberately risk having to deal with people misunderstanding me while also risking that they might correctly guess details better left hidden?

Besides, cryptic posts remind me of Xanga. I was never on Myspace, but Xanga was fabulous for cryptic posts. I tended to read the sorts where everyone nodded in cool recognition of a mutual lack of understanding rather than the type where the person was waiting in agitation for someone to please try to guess their secrets.

Which brings me back to the thought that I am not deliberately cryptic here, I may just be vague because I have nothing to say.

I have plans. I love plans. I love very specific plans. But I know that I have oh-so-little control over them. And so I like to think about huge concepts, general themes, and other common threads of life that apply even–perhaps especially–when plans fall through.

Money and Dreams

By Rae January 14, 2013 Goals 4 Comments

I used to love personal finance blogs, back in the day when they were really just taking off. Then I stopped reading them because we had no money, and all of the suggestions were ridiculous since I was already forced into a far more austere life than even the most frugal of bloggers dared to write of.

It was apparent that the wounds of deprivation were healed not when we celebrated my new job with a frivolous dinner out (veggie burgers for a total bill of $5.something-or-other) but when I started adding money blogs back into my regular reading.

I quickly found that many great blogs were established in my time hiding from all talk about finances. One of my favorites is Mr. Money Mustache (warning: profanity) and I really, really like his wife’s posts and comments.

For instance, she considers the issue of makeup not primarily from a feminist or religious perspective, but rather as a financial question of prioritization. In response to a one objection she writes:

If you want to stay home with your kids, for example, as I did, then every single dollar counts until you get there. You really strip down and go into uber-frugal mode because the goal is such an important one. Every single dollar that is spent is taking you away from your goal. That goal is a very powerful thing if it’s something that you really care about, as it was for me.

I love that!

These sorts of comments are exceedingly frustrating when you are considering a dream over which you have no control, but it is incredibly helpful for me to think about when I do have any sort of income.

You see, I dream of a better world. And that means that even if I cannot see one particular dream fulfilled, I can still work for other goals–other hopes.

I find frugality incredibly rewarding because it is an active assertion that there is something better out there than immediate gratification or materialism.

I am thankful 1/13/13

By Rae January 13, 2013 Gratitude 1 Comment

For emotions. Right now I cannot figure out if something is really right or really wrong because it looks like I am responding well to difficult circumstances, but I’ll take what I can get. These days I remember that it is a gift to feel anything, much less contentment. Don’t get me wrong, on days of real pain I would gladly trade it for numbness, but confused emotions are not the same as real pain.

For local races. I have not been able to really run since September (totally my fault, I know, I know!). But Josh and my sister have still been racing, and it is really fabulous to see a community pursuing fitness in such, uh, communal ways.

For my sister. I’m allowed to say this for about the 100th time because I have about 100 sisters. Anyway, this sister is fabulous for many reasons, among them her sense of humor. She has the best explanations for just about everything. For instance, on the topic of lifting weights: “the more muscle you have the more calories you burn sitting, and I love to sit!”

For Lara Fabian’s music. I don’t know anyone else who is a fan, so I’m nominating Lara Fabian for “most under-appreciated artist” of, well, my life I guess. Yet another sister gave me one of her CDs when I was 15, and I listened to it incessantly. No one else seems to think that it is good music, but I still know that it is. So I guess I should be thankful that it was created just for me?

BOM + BBT

By Rae January 12, 2013 The Feminine 6 Comments

Note: This post is regrettably riddled with NFP-insider lingo. Probably best to skip it if that is not your thing, or especially if it is your thing in the sort of way where you can’t stand to read others talking about their individual experiences with various methods because you know that your method was created by God and is thus unquestionably best for all. Thanks!

Billings Thermometer

I took my temperature this morning. This is hardly surprising, given that I have taken my temperature (BBT) most mornings for the past eight years, but it is significant. Since February we have been keeping two charts, one with the Billings method (BOM) and one based on the Cross-Check method (Best method ever, yo! If you’re near Boston it is totally the way to go. Can we have NFP rap?). Ehem, anyway.

Unlike the Creighton Model (CrMS), which cannot be used alone to determine ovulation for my body, BOM is perfectly adequate for me. It has been a year and a half since we started using it, and Josh still struggles to believe how incredibly easy it is. Yet somehow I remain attached to my thermometer, and I know that I am not the only one who prefers to mix methods.

I knew that this cycle would include traveling for Christmas, and New Year’s, and other reasons for finding the thermometer annoying. So when Josh said that he totally did not care whether I tracked my temperature, it became the first time that I have charted exclusively without BBT. Have I mentioned that BOM is so easy it is almost a joke?

Still, I reached for my thermometer this morning because I wanted to know precisely when to expect the start of my next cycle, and the only reliable way for me to know that is a temperature drop. I used to think that I was unusual in my inconsistent luteal phases, but then I heard a CrMS FCP say that CrMS is great for knowing when your next period will come because luteal phases are consistent… and then she defined consistent as +/- 2 days, for a total of a 5 day range. That means that mine are consistent in CrMS-terms, but that is not nearly precise enough in NoWealthButLife World! Add in the fact that my late-cycle cramping has no consistent pattern, and this leaves me turning to my thermometer.

My temperature was decisively low, which means I will need to start a new chart either today or tomorrow–I don’t know for sure because I don’t know what my temperature was yesterday. Still, knowing that it is either today or tomorrow is a whole lot better for me than just knowing that it will be sometime within the next five days.

I can thank BOM for a lot, including letting me know what day to take my temperature, but I’m just not ready to give up my thermometer completely. Once you learn how to use it correctly, it is just the best. Now I’d better stop before I end up publicly declaring my love for my thermometer. I wouldn’t want to make Josh jealous!

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