Kick has started to ask questions about books.
We read a book about Ada Byron Lovelace and she asks WHY Ada loved numbers as a child, why she couldn’t walk. We read a book about a panda that refuses to give people donuts and she asks why he’s being so mean.
She used to just sit and absorb everything I read to her. Now she follows the plot, notices if I skip pages (screw you, Wheedle on the Needle, you are twice as long as you need to be) and wants every word defined.
The other night, we read Madeline. She asked what a scar is. I told her a scar is a mark from when you were hurt, or when something was wrong and doctors had to help you. And I showed her one of the scars from the surgeries I had while trying to have her. It’s a small raised spot now, barely noticeable.
I had two surgeries trying to have her, surgeries to scrape out benign tumors in the uterus. The second was minor, laparoscopic, left only small marks. The first was major, and necessitated that when I did give birth, it was via C-section.
I said throughout my pregnancy that I was happy about the C-section, as it meant I could schedule my German child and have her born precisely when I wanted her to be. I’d heard recovery could be simpler than from a vaginal birth with complications, and I got to skip the birthing classes, so I wasn’t going to insist as some women do when their doctors recommend the procedure. I’m lazy. I get to lie down while the doctor does all the work? OKAY.
Dr. Horvath-Cosper says that, by letting states decide on their own essential benefits lists, women could be disproportionately targeted as having pre-existing conditions. “Back in 2010, it was legal in several states to deny somebody coverage because they were a domestic abuse survivor. That was considered a pre-existing condition,” she said. So was having had a C-section. “Most of the people who have C-sections identify as women, so that’s a shorthand for a gender discriminatory policy.”
Many others have said what I could say here, that being alive is a pre-existing condition, that this bill is monstrous to families with developmentally disabled children and to people with cancer and to the poor, that Republicans haven’t read it and don’t intend to and only care about delivering a win that allows them to shit all over the former occupant of the Oval Office, who happened to be black. These things are all true, and the GOP should rot in hell if this passes. Decent people should spit on them on the street.
And don’t give me that it’ll die in the Senate. That isn’t the point. The point is that this is what they’re saying about who we are and what we want. And what we want is to be mean, and small, and angry at everybody who is sick or needs help.
The way during the last election we wanted to be mean and small and angry at everybody who wasn’t white, wasn’t rich, wasn’t just like “us.” The way we all seem to be on every level of government right now. Fend for yourselves, everyone, there’s nothing we can do for you.
“That’s a scar,” I said to Kick, taking her small fingers and helping her trace the mark just inside my left hipbone. “A doctor had to make a cut there.”
“To make Mama better so she could have you in her tummy.”
She accepted this without question, thank goodness, and snuggled back into the story about a little girl who needs her appendix out and spends 10 days in the hospital afterward.
Thank God Madeline is French.
If she was American she’d have a pre-existing condition now.