#Folk of the Uterus Unite

[dee-the-red-witch]

The Monthly Roundup

Okay, normally, this is just a free monthly post over on my Patreon, but I figured I should push this out into the wild as well, because this kind of stuff's always needed. Want this, and a bunch of weekly readings from a cursed tarot deck, media reviews, and other content including fiction and the occasional build post? Maybe consider adding me over there as well. Anyways, like I said, it's a monthly roundup- in this case a bigass collection of links and resources for folks interested in pursuing gender transition one way or another. And while a bunch of it is transfem specific and sometimes medical transition specific, because it's stuff I dug up while hunting down things for myself, there's also things in there good for anyone of any gender, and resources for legal/social transition as well. And this is long enough to deserve a cut for once, so...

Hey! What If *I'M* trans?

The Gender Dysphoria Bible- https://genderdysphoria.fyi/en Wondering if you're experiencing Gender Dysphoria? This may be a good place to start. Realize the GDB is slanted largely towards transfem folks, so it doesn't necessarily apply evenly to everyone, but it does cover a lot of ground that folks may identify with.

Trans Medical Resources

DIY HRT- https://diyhrt.cafe/index.php/Main_Page (for legal reasons, I'm going to tell you to at least try to see a licensed physician or endocrinologist before starting to DIY your own hormones, but keep in mind, I'm not your responsible adult, and if you don't choose to listen, that's on you) This is the main, best hub for sourcing and getting info on doing your own hormone therapy. Keep in mind, it's once again slanted towards feminizing methods, because testosterone is still a controlled substance in most of the world (which is bloody fucking stupid, but that's a rant for another time).

GALAP- The Gender Affirming Letter Access Project- https://thegalap.org/ While we may have new WPATH guidelines with the Soc 8 updates that dropped a little bit ago, most providers and insurers are still on outdated requirements that insist on letters from mental health providers for transgender-related care. Which can affect access to surgeries, HRT, and more. GALAP exists to connect folks with providers who'll give those letters,m in some cases free of charge even.

Gynecologist List- https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1Djia_WkrVO3S4jKn6odNwQk7pOcpcL4x00FMNekrb7Q/htmlview This one's more for uterus-owners in general and less trans-specific, but giventhe number of folks with uteri who'd can end up with a hard time finding a willing doctor for some procedures, it's important for everyone. This is a Google database of hundreds of gynecologists, listed by location, willing to perform sterilization procedures with informed consent, without secondary authorization from anyone else. The list is patient-vetted, so your mileage may vary, but for those seeking sterilization and/or hysterectomies as part of their transition it may prove to be invaluable as a resource, because doctors willing to do this work can be few and rare in some areas.

Transfeminine Science- https://transfemscience.org/ Articles, journals and all sorts of researching into, well, just what the name says, transfeminizing science. A lot of medical professionals simply don't have knowledge in the field and are acting on what they learned in med school, which may be way out of date. If they're willing to listen, there's stuff in there to help bring them up to speed. Better yet, it;'s also a great resource to educate yourself so you can advocate for your own care a bit better.

Other Transition resources (legal, social, etc)

NCTE's ID GUIDE- https://transequality.org/documents The National Transgender Center for Equality's guide to changing your legal identity, in a handy format that lets you break it down by state or territory, or even federal documents (United States only, sorry.) and links to the right paperwork to use. Rainbow Passage- https://rainbowpassage.org/ It sucks that we need organizations like this in these times, but I'm glad to see there's people already stepping up to the task. Rainbow Passage is an organization dedicated to helping trans youth get out of trans-hostile states and relocate to safer areas. And if you can, volunteering for them is a great way to help improve safety for trans folk in general.

Seattle Voice Lab- https://www.seattlevoicelab.com/ if you've seen me on social media much lately, then you've seen me talking about this place. This is who I'm (through February and March at least) taking voice lessons through to feminize my own voice more. They also have a bunch of online resources, a discord server, and other help if you need to figure your own vocal chords out a bit better.

Strands For Trans- https://strandsfortrans.org/ Need a haircut, or color or other beauty services you're using for the first time ever as an out trans person and you're not sure where's going to be safe to go? Strands For Trans is the first comprehensive database of Aesthetics businesses for hair and everything, AND THEY VET THE BUSINESSES, to ensure your safety and comfort.

TLC's Life-Planning Guide- http://transgenderlawcenter.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/TLC_Life-Planning-Documents-Transgender.pdf The Transgender Law Center put this guide together specifically for planning end-of-life details. Yes, it's a depressing and tragic thing, but protecting and making sure our identities are still properly preserved after we die is still just as an important part of what we're fighting as anything else is. This guide will help you with establishing a Living Will, controlling hospital visits, and setting up proper Powers of Attorney, so that nothing potentially falls back into the hands of people who might refuse to recognize who you truly are. (In many states, you can designate someone other than your next of kin to take charge of your body when you die (next of kin is defined by law, not by preference). If you need to do that, go to nolo.com and look up article on "[your state] funeral law" to get a rundown on if and how to do this.

Trans Media

The Digital Transgender Archive- https://www.digitaltransgenderarchive.net "The purpose of the Digital Transgender Archive (DTA) is to increase the accessibility of transgender history by providing an online hub for digitized historical materials, born-digital materials, and information on archival holdings throughout the world." (In short, this is one of several free libraries of trans history.)

Totally Trans- https://www.patreon.com/totallytrans/posts Hey, look at that, it's another Patreon! Except, no, wait, it's a podcast! Totally Trans looks at media both historical and modern with a transgendered lens. Sometimes it's silly fun, other times, it's great insights into queer and trans history, and all around it's a great show to add on whatever service you're already getting podcasts through- or you can hit the link above to help support them at the same time for early access.

Trans News, Blogs, and Notes

Erin In The Morning: https://www.erininthemorning.com/ Erin's newsletter runs almost daily these days, mostly with updates regarding trans legislation all around the US. It's a good way to stay up to date, but it can also be a drag these days, largely because it's practically just a constantly expanding list of bad news thanks to the GOP right now.

Stained Glass Woman: https://stainedglasswoman.substack.com/ aka Doc Impossible/Zoe. I first discovered her work and writing when WPATH released their new SOC 8 guidelines, because she was one of the few people that could make the thing actually make sense in non-legalese. But I subscribed andkeep following here for regular updates both because she presents a trans coming out narrative that was just a joy to read, and also covers interesting  news in the field of trans medicine from time to time. Definitely worth adding to your feed.

A Self Defense Study Guide for Trans Women and Gender Non-Conforming / Nonbinary AMAB Folks: https://www.silversprocket.net/2021/09/13/a-self-defense-study-guide-for-trans-women-and-gender-non-conforming-nonbinary-amab-folks/

This is, quite honestly, one of the best self-defense guides I've seen for gender-nonconforming folks (and one of the few, to be honest), short of private defense instruction. AND it's available to read in full for free at that link, or in print for just a 5$ donation. Go check it out.

Other general roundups

Grassroots GAC Resources- https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/19kSzBLo_hjpiBjHN8tvK73sVHU25NKWjMau2vNl8uuM/edit#gid=778305468 Google spreadsheet of links in general, from therapy help and hrt assistance, to all sorts of other info, some of which are repeats from here, but there's also a bunch of others I haven't had time or opportunity to vet yet.

[darksidelawyer]

Look, hon. It is the 2024 GOP platform!

If Vance had any stones--much less if he were a faithful Catholic--he would clearly, firmly and publicly state that he is opposed to IVF, notwithstanding what The Golden Golem Formerly From Gotham says.

Look folks, CATHOLICS CANNOT SUPPORT IVF. I know there are lots and lots of arguments being made right now that “Harris is worse than Trump” and “at least Trump wants more babies” but I am going to say it louder this time for the people in the back:  IVF is INTRINSICALLY EVIL and Catholics cannot support this.  At all. First, gametes (that would be sperm and egg for those whose high school biology class was in the distant past) are obtained illicitly.  Men are given a cup and sent to a room filled with porn in order to obtain their sperm.  I’m sorry to be blunt but this reality seems lost on people when words like “self abuse” are used to describe the process.  So let’s get real for a minute:  the future father is sent to a room in an IVF clinic to view porn and masturbate.  The mothers are pumped full of exogenous hormones to stimulate their ovaries into HYPERovulation so that 20+ eggs can be retrieved.   After the two gametes are obtained, lab techs get busy combining them in a Petri dish.  This actively creates teeny tiny human beings without the unitive & procreative aspect of the marital embrace.  Then, these tiny people are screened for suitablity and the undesirable ones are destroyed (this is the first point in the process where humans are murdered).   Then, mom is again pumped full of exogenous hormones to prepare her uterus to be a hospitable place for an embryo to implant.  During the implantation process, where the lab-created humans are transferred to the woman’s uterus in hopes of achieving pregnancy, many of the embryos will NOT survive.  This is point number 2 where death of human beings occurs. Once a woman becomes pregnant (notice I didn’t say “conceives” because the conception already happened….in the lab), the remaining embryos are cryogenically stored for future use.  This means they’re frozen.   If the woman becomes pregnant with more than one embryo, she is offered the opportunity for “selective reduction” which is a surgical abortion procedure to cull the number of unborn children in the womb to her desired number.   This is point number 3 where death enters into the process. After a baby is born (or miscarried as the failure rate of IVF pregnancies is very high), the parents may opt to thaw their frozen embryos and try again.  Many of these unborn children do not survive the thawing process.  This is death portal number 4.  If they are successfully thawed, then they are subjected to another intrauterine transfer procedure, which, as we said above has a high mortality rate for remaining embryos.  If the couple decides not to have any more children, the embryos can either be:

1. Destroyed.  This is a deliberate destruction of human life. 2. Indefinitely frozen.  It is estimated that right now in the United States there are more than 1.5 million embryonic human beings in cryogenic preservation tanks. 3. Sold to the biotech industry to be used for research and development of medical treatments and/or medical experimentation.

It has been said that only 7% of created embryos actually result in a live birth, and that anywhere between 15 & 30 embryos are destroyed for every baby born via this technology. This is just an outline of the process of IVF.  This does not take into account how this technology is being used to produce children for single women who want to be single mothers as well as the LGTBQ+ alphabet people. After reading this, does this process sound like something a Catholic can square with their conscience?  I hope not, because as I said the entire thing, from start to finish, is intrinsically evil. The GOP has made it very clear that they not only want access to IVF to be protected, but they want YOU to pay for it by requiring health insurance plans to provide coverage for it.  The mental gymnastics from the MAGA Catholics who want to defend Trump on this is really something to behold.  There is zero justification for this. IVF is not pro-life, even if the desired end result is a child.  The ends do not justify the means and we can’t commit grave evil to achieve good.  Nope. Sadly, there is no pro-life ticket this November.   I won’t support either candidate; in the end, I’d rather lose an election than lose my soul.

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

It’s getting kind of scary out there, so I thought some of you guys might like to sign this pledge. Or one of these petitions below.

Nullify the Texas "heartbeat" Abortion Law

Legalize Abortion in the Philippines

Texas' new anti abortion law goes against women's rights

Maintain Roe v Wade

Stop Kansas Abortion Ban

Stop the fetal heartbeat abortion ban bill in Idaho

Stop the anti-abortion laws in Hillsdale, MI

Women's Rights: My Body My Choice

SOUTH CAROLINA HEARTBEAT BILL MUST BE STOPPED. STOP SC GOV MCMASTER FROM SIGNING.

No abortion bans, PERIOD

Sign the petition: I believe abortion is a human right. We must protect abortion access.

[iwannaban0nym0us]

Queer Poetry Collection

Trans Hate

Being trans comes with many joys, finally discovering yourself, finding people who understand you the euphoria of looking like yourself for the first time the pride in breaking the chains of the gender binary It also comes with some unavoidable pain not feeling like your body is your own living some of your life as someone you’re not your voice not sounding like you clothes never fitting quite right and some easily avoidable suffering like societal oppression being abused and made fun of just for living as our true selves being referred to by terms that aren’t your own

Greg Abbott, Ken Paxton Ron DeSantis, Joe Harding Ted Cruz, Donald Trump theses men do nothing to help instead they encourage the torment and through their positions of power they spread their harmful ideas transphobia snakes its way through the republican party spreading it’s tendrils through the darkest corners

Greg Abbott Ken Paxton and their long pointy nails ripping trans children from their parents drawing blood where lives could be spared blocking the pathways to happy healthier lives trans kids in Texas directly under fire trans kids everywhere can feel their pain

Ron DeSantis Joe Harding and their massive obnoxious mouths talking over anyone who’s different or odd running their mouths as if they’re better than the rest of us stopping children from sharing their stories or even learning that they are not alone other people feel that way it’s not wrong to be queer queerness should be celerbrated not erased from our vocabulary

Ted Cruz and his two sided hair cut viewed from one side he is a protector from the other side he is a transphobe one perspective buys into his tale of biological supremacy among children, kids who just want to play the other view point sees the evil forcing kids to hide their true self or leave the game that they love

Donald Trump and his blaring orange skin the bright color acts as a beacon calling similar minded people to his side gathering support for causes that deserve no recognition preventing people from serving their country because their gender doesn’t align with your expectations preventing brave men women and people from serving simply because of what’s in their pants

Six fallen saviors leaders turned corrupt they were supposed to empower the people they serve instead they terrorize them powerful people, political leaders they are supposed to guide the way to a better future not turn us around and send us back to bigotry oppression and hatred

It Hurts

“Women’s reproductive rights” “After a woman gives birth” “Her” “He or she” “Girls” “Ladies and gentleman” [Women’s room] [Men’s room] “Girl’s team” “Boy’s team” “Son or daughter” “Mom and dad” “Brother or sister”

Everyone pretends I don’t exist Everyone tries to deny my existence Everyone implies I’m not there Everything is structured to ignore my existence Every tradition pretends I’m not real

It hurts I try to hide it I shrug it off I ignore it I say it’s ok

But it isn’t Every Little Stab Hurts

I. Exist. Too. Just because I don’t fit Into your neat little boxes Doesn’t mean I’m not real Doesn’t mean you can just ignore me I have a uterus too I play on this team too I’m listening to your speeches too I exist in this world too

How about “Reproductive rights” “After a person gives birth” “Their” “They” “United” “Folks” [Bathroom] “Coach A’s team” “Coach B’s team” “Child” “Parents” “Sibling”

Just change a few words It’s not very hard And it can make a world of a difference It can make me feel seen and heard It can make me feel real It can make me feel like I have a place in this world Because I do Weather or not you care to acknowledge me I am here and I am queer

Transitional Years

Alone Scared What am I supposed to do What is gender How do I stay safe How do I explain these feelings What is going on inside me What is going on around me

I am so glad that time is over The fear The questioning The confusion No more hiding who I am just because I don’t understand it And I’m afraid the world won’t either No more hiding inside Afraid of the plague that’s taken over the world

I can be free now I can be myself I can be unapologetically myself I can be a normal kid

I’m never getting those years back Those 2 years spent hiding in the darkness of my room Or all the years before spent believing in a lie I lost my transitional years To a plague And to a different kind of transition

I went in one person And came out a totally new version of myself

New name New pronouns New perspective on the world

I’m not alone in my struggles, I wish younger me knew that Other people feel the way you do And everyone is there for you You don’t have to question alone It’s ok to let others know you’re confused and scared

I’m happy for my friends Who aren’t going through that alone I’m glad I can be there to support them To show them that they aren’t alone To show them the light at the end of the tunnel To be an example of a happy ending

I just wish younger me was that brave Younger me was too afraid of the unknown To admit to anyone else that I didn’t know Didn’t know who I was Instead of letting others help me to find myself I hid myself from everyone I hid myself from myself I denied who I am Because I thought I had to know To pick To tell everyone I thought I had to know who I was Before I could tell people who I’m not I thought I had to pick between Being truly myself And being a part of my team I thought if I told someone I would have to tell everyone So I chose hiding I chose the past I chose my team

Sure, it made me who I am But couldn’t have there been An easier path to this point? We’ll never know At least for now, I’m just happy to have made it here I hid away for 2 years And in the process I found myself I pulled back the coat of lies That I had been building up my whole life I eased out of it And I burned it The freedom I found Was well worth the pain That the path here caused I am myself And I am never turning back

The Queer Fight

Gay marriage was legalized In the united states Within my lifetime And I’m still in highschool

The first time an Openly transgender athlete Competed in the olympics was Last summer I watched them Go on to win gold

Stonewall The AIDs crisis Those are things of the past To my generation Yes, they’re important history But they aren’t our battles

Our Fights are: Bathroom bills Trans athletes Representation for EVERYone Skyrocketing mental illnesses

Things are much better than they were 50,30,20, even 10 years ago But we’re not there yet We’re still seen as other As something different Something to be feared and hated There are still so many countries Where I could be killed Just for being myself And even more Where I couldn’t marry the person I love Just because we’re the same gender Hell even in the usa I can’t marry The people that I love Since you can only marry one person

Yeah representation has gotten better But you still have to go looking for it And the little that you can find is mostly Just gay, mlm or wlw There’s the occasional mspec A sprinkling of binary trans people A spot of enbies And a tiny tiny spec of aspecs I can see queer people but I can Hardly see myself And my multifaceted identity Nonbinary, trans, genderfluid, mspec, ace, ambiam

This is our fight And we’re not stopping Until we’re all equal

The Black Ring

Black ring Right middle finger A fuck you to Fucking anyone

It’s a physical reminder Something to rub When I feel Like an other Like I’m missing out That I’m too queer Or not queer enough It grounds me Reminds me I’m not alone

It’s a signal A way to let others know “Hey, you’re not alone” It’s subtle But powerful It’s simple But meaningful

It’s a piece of me I almost never take it off It represents a part of me That can’t otherwise Be seen and understood Even with the ring Only some people care To see and understand But I do and some do And that’s enough for me

Black ring Right middle finger A reminder A Symbol A part of me How I say “I’m Proud, Proud to be Ace.”

[black-girls-wizdom]

It’s Been A While. . .

Hey Wizdomettes,

I hope all is well and everyone and their families have remained untouched from COVID-19. With that out the way, I’ve been dugged up out of my “Pandemic Grave” because I wanted to discuss the topic of the Covid vaccines/getting vaccinated. My question is: What is it that actually makes you think the government is trying to poison you? What possess you think that this vaccine is some sort of biological chemical warfare? What gives you the audacity to “TRY” and control a woman’s uterus but we can’t even ask you ungrateful bastards to wear a mask, wash your hands, and get vaccinated without hearing about some unwritten constitutional rights being trampled upon. This human population control theory and rhetoric has begun to get old and stale quick. I understood being hesitant in the beginning, I was hesitant in the beginning as well, so I let the first round go first, and they’re still here. However, 700,000+ Americans aren’t here because COVID KILLED THEM. COVID KILLED THEM! Not the vaccine. COVID has successfully exterminated more people than ALL 3 COVID vaccines combined! Now,I understand everyone hoping on the bandwagon of some celebrity calling it a hoax, I get it, I do, because we regular folks think that they some how have the upper hand, some New World Order organization is sliding them information that we don’t know about. NEWS FLASH: Beyonce and Ellen or whom you mf’ers look up to is not sitting around a table with the elite plotting on our demise. The FUCKING Rockafellars aren’t sitting plotting our demise.

Y’all so damn smart you’re dumb. One, it was much better ways to take out billions of people much faster than this. Just think about it. Analyze it, and ask yourself if it makes sense. Secondly, YOU, YES YOU are paying the top 1% their money.  You work for them, why would they intentionally eliminate basically they’re slaves? Why? A cease in their everyday Net Income gone make everybody think twice. Lastly, they need you patriotic Americans to fight in wars that only benefits them.

Another thing, I don’t give af if you’re democrat or republican, black/white/green, gay or straight, atheist or Christian we ALL bleed RED blood. Our genotypes may differ in certain DNA sequences but we ALL bleed RED blood. CORONA, however, don’t care about any of that, all Corona thinking about is attaching to a warm-blooded homosapien-sapien and thriving until it leaves you in an ICU bed, with machines alarming every minute, your family can’t be there, and you’re gasping for air. That feeling is real! THIS SHIT IS REAL! This shit way above Donald Trump and Joe Biden. It’s way above black/white/Asian/Hispanic. COVID is killing all of us. You know damn well politicians are using it for political gain and y'all falling for the okey doke, easily. Use your common sense, Pick up a book on Virology and learn a thing or five. Use your brain, you don’t go to a politician when you’re sick, you go to the doctor, right? So, why in the hell are you getting health recommendations from fucking Ted Cruz and Beto O’Rourke, why? Lastly, what gives you the authority to feel as if your right to autonomy trumps my right to live. We all deserve the common decency to wear a mask in public; unlike you healthy individuals out there who lacks the knowledge of how it really is to be ill, I, as an immunocompromised black woman, my 80 year old grandmother, your 80 year old mother, your dad with diabetes, your 6 month old cousin, and children under the age of 5 do; we have the same the rights under the Constitution of these United States that says and I quote:

“No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States;nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.” 

Loosely translated to:

“If you can monopolize off of my pussy to win an election, I can damn sure tell your ass to get vaccinated.”

Take that “TeaPinion” and run with it! 

On that note I’m out Wizdomettes,

Stay wise and stay radiant💜🌻🪄

[slowlivingalmanac]

this is the beginning

I received notice that my repurchase of the domain “slowlivingalmanac.com” went through just fine the other day. I had these dreams of starting a blog and being part of a larger online community full of other folks who were desperately trying to take back hold of the reins of their lives.

Slow living started as a movement for sustainable, local, organic, whole foods (a movement I sure know a ton about), but is now an umbrella term for anyone who is trying to live with the seasons, reintegrate with the natural world, and chill the fuck out. For me, slow living must also be anti-capitalist and anti-oppressive. It’s ambitious to be either in the United States of America, but we shall persist.

Now, when I first purchased this domain, I expected to fill this blog with exercises of resistance and also learn how to better connect with my real-life community as an anxious introvert. I needed guidance as much as I craved guiding others who felt the same way as me.

Craving connection is part of the human condition and yet finding connection is getting increasingly harder. How can a human compete with a smart phone these days?

On top of all these ideals and aspirations to live slowly, I was burning out fast in my job. A job that, on paper, was my dream job. I was working at a local non-profit that was dedicated to supporting local farmers and helping them find ways their feed their community. My role was to run food access programs for folks who historically have lacked sustainable, local, organic, and whole foods.

The food system in the USA began as a venture capitalist program that only “succeeded” (using this term very loosely) because European colonists came to this continent to steal land from Indigenous peoples and then kidnap and enslave African peoples to build this food system for them. They nearly wiped out the native food system on top of committing genocide to do so. Today, Black, Indigenous, and Latinx communities face rates of hunger 2x or more than white communities.

Now, I burnt out in my role for many reasons. But the main reason I burnt out was because non-profits are designed to exploit workers just like any other industry in this country. We are overworked, underpaid, and asked to solve the country’s failures with unsustainable funding.

After 4 years of working in the food access field, at an organization that shared the original values of slow living, I quit without notice because my burnout was devastating my health. I was in mental health crisis and my body was sending out every warning sign it could for at least 6 months before I finally listened.

I had to leave abruptly to save myself.

If that sounds dramatic, trust me it was. I had watched dozens of colleagues cycle through my last organization over the course of my tenure (some lasted only 90 days before fizzling out completely). My weeks were full of meetings with folks from all over the city strategizing on how to uplift sustainable food systems for all, but nobody was talking about sustainability for ourselves. And then hardly anyone wanted to talk about how racism and capitalism played the largest role in creating the failing food system we have today. And shit, if you did talk about it, you had a target on your back. Something I knew all too well.

Slow living, for me, is an exercise in resistance, boundaries, and justice. Much to the chagrin of those early European capitalists, I was not born to work and make others money. None of us were. We, like our animal and plant companions, have unalienable rights. Yet, capitalists would try to convince us that our sole purpose is to burn through natural resources, tend to grass lawns, and if you’re the owner of a uterus, create the next generation of workers.

After almost 7 years of wanting to start a blog, here I am. Ready and desperate to start this new journey towards a life full of meaning and slow living.  

[goodluckdetective]

Hello everyone. If you are also from the United States please sit for a sec for my PSA. This mostly pertains to people with uterus’, but folks who don’t have one who wish to be informed are welcome to read as well.

With the Supreme Court, a lot of things are at risk but two that I wish to speak of are the ACA and Row vs Wade. With the ACA in danger, birth control may no longer be covered in the future and abortion rights are uncertain. Ideally we won’t get to the worst case senario, but if you have a uterus, it’s good to be prepared just in case.

If you’re a person with a uterus and kids are not on your near term agenda, please consider looking into long term birth control like and IUD or the implant. There are two types of IUDs copper and hormonal, and you can read up on both to decide if either is best for you. Both types last for multiple years which makes them ideal if you have concerns about insurance not covering the pill.

Planned Parenthood is a great source for both of these services along with other reproductive healthcare for those with low income. I would suggest asking about it to a medical professional and if it interests you, following through sooner rather than later. This goes for everyone with a uterus, not just those in a relationship where the pair can potentially reproduce.

I hope things don’t get this dire, but I want to be prepared just in case. So this is my PSA. If you don’t have a uterus and want to help, consider donating to Planned Parenthood to ensure those without the means can access affordable reproductive healthcare.

[parentsnevertoldus]

2020 Birth Control & Amy Coney Barrett Confirmation

What does it mean to be pro-life in 2020? To me, it means to be pro-education and anti-carceral; to be pro-social-distancing and anti-death penalty. However, in the white supremacist settler-colonial carceral state--or states, as in the United States-- to call oneself “pro-life” means, well, anything but that. It means to be pro-capitalism and the pursuit of control of the labor supply, and pro-forced birth. It means to be anti-people, especially poor and/or nonwhite queer people. To be pro-life in this sense is to be an unabashed and brazen soldier for white supremacy. A white knight, if you will. 

This white knight, ever-present, goes by many names and lives (or rather, steals) many lives. One of these names is Amy Coney Barrett, newly sworn-in Supreme Court justice. Barrett is the first nominee to be muscled in and confirmed so quickly with no bipartisan support since the US Civil War. 

Barrett vocally opposed the Affordable Care Acts, and has a well-documented campaign against abortion. Now with the conservative Senate majority, access to health care--let alone contraceptive goods and services--may become even more precarious. Though she touts herself as pro-life (in the white-supremacist way), other pro-abortion access party members like GOP senator Lisa Murkowski believe that Barrett will not attempt to overturn Roe v Wade, the landmark case that made abortions legal. Here is an overview of birth control options for queer and nonbinary folks...just in case:

REMEMBER If you have a uterus and ovaries, you can become pregnant even if you take testosterone that stops menstrual bleeding. If you have a penis and testes, you can get someone pregnant, even when on estrogen. Estrogen can lower sperm count, but does not make someone infertile. 

For folks with vaginas on testosterone-based HRT, the Copper IUD, according to Dr. Joe Nelson, MD (@DoctorJoeNelson on Twitter), is a “fan favorite” because it has no hormones and lasts much, much longer than other forms of birth control - up to 12 years. Dr. Nick Gorton, MD (@RNickGorton) tweets that most of his patients who are transmasc and on T opt for long-lasting progestin IUDs because when taken without testosterone they are awesome contraceptives, but with T they do a great job of preventing vaginal bleeding. Other progesterone methods include the implant, pill, or Depo shot. Progesterone-only pills like Slynd have a lower risk of clots or stroke than estrogen/drospirenone methods.

[healthomni]

What are Some Facts About Abortion?

Abortion Facts In order to keep the facts about abortion straight, the medical field provides specific terminology for the processes of abortion.  Abortion is separated into two categories: spontaneous abortion and induced abortion.  Spontaneous Abortion is more commonly referred to as miscarriage.  A Spontaneous Abortion happens when trauma occurs and accidentally affects the embryo or fetus, causing the mother’s body to expel it.  This is due to natural causes such as genetic problems or disease...

The second category, Induced Abortion, is further separated into two sub-categories: Therapeutic Abortion and Elective Abortion.  Therapeutic Abortion is done only to benefit the health of the mother.  There are many different reasons that this might be an option for an expectant mother.  Some women opt to terminate a pregnancy when the fetus has been found to have a congenital defect that would greatly hinder its development or even end in imminent death.  A woman who is expecting multiple births may have to reduce the number of births in order to preserve her own health.  These facts about abortion are often misunderstood.

The second sub-category of Induced Abortion is Elective Abortion.  Most facts about abortion are greatly skewed because of this type of abortion.  Elective Abortion is any abortion that is done for another reason and is the choice of the pregnant woman.

There are three kinds of abortion procedures: Surgical, Chemical, and Herbal.  The kind of Surgical Abortion procedure used depends on the duration of the pregnancy.  Abortions performed in the first twelve weeks, or trimester, can be done by MVA (Manual Vaccuum Aspiration), EVA (Electric Vacuum Aspiration), or Dilation and Curettage.  Between the fifteenth and twenty-sixth weeks of a pregnancy, Dilation and Evacuation can be used.  Through the second trimester, techniques such as induced miscarriage (drugs injected into the amniotic fluid), Intact Dilation and Extraction, or a Hysterectomy Abortion can be performed.  These are the most misconstrued facts about abortion.

Many people looking for facts about abortion do not know about the option of Chemical or Herbal Abortions.  The most common and effective Chemical Abortion method is using either methotrexate or mifepristone, and following that with prostaglandin – there are two available types of this drug: misoprostol is used in the United States, and gemeprost is used in the United Kingdom and Sweden.  Misoprostol can be used alone, but it is not as effective as the use of the two drug regimen.  Facts about abortion using herbs are limited, but Herbal Abortions are possible, and are mostly used in folk medicine.  Historically, herbs such as tansy, pennyroyal, black cohosh and the extinct silphium were used, but are very dangerous and can cause organ failure and death.  Before Roe vs. Wade made abortion legal in the United States – and even nowadays in other countries – knitting needles and clothing hangers were used to cause massive trauma to the uterus and induce miscarriage.

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[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 51

Nothing will ever prepare you for the birth of your first child. Nothing. Trust me on this. Go ahead and do your research, attend Lamaze classes, dot the i’s and cross the t’s of the fifty line-items that make up what you believe to be a thoroughly comprehensive birth plan…you’ll be informed, and aware. But on that day, when you’re in the midst of it, and immediately after…that is some seriously next-level shit. It’s an other-worldly, out-of-body experience, one in which you’ll feel like you’ve gone straight to the ninth circle of hell and then, with nothing more than the sound of a gasp and a cry, achieved the penultimate goal of spirituality…nirvana.

 We’d chosen the Portland Hospital mainly because Dr. Phillips practiced there as a consultant, but also due to the fact that it was a private establishment with state-of-the art technology and a neonatal intensive care unit on-site. Having a midwife was an option, but since I was an ‘older mom’ it felt best to err on the side of caution and deliver with a caregiver in the room who could authorize and perform medical procedures immediately. During our initial tour the guide had mentioned that the likes of Victoria Beckham and the Duchess of York had chosen to give birth in the VIP Deluxe Suites, along with a host of other rich and famous folks. The cost? Approximately $2700 per night, not including medical fees. The perks? A private entrance and exit, catered meals, an extra bed for partners wishing to remain overnight, a lounge area and an en-suite bathroom in addition to the delivery area, which provided for all possible birthing options, including a tub for those who desired an aquatic scenario. With typical medical costs added in we’d be looking at around $30,000, double if I wound up needing a C-section. I balked until we actually saw the VIP rooms…there was no disguising that this was, indeed, a hospital, but the space was bright and airy with light wood floors and furniture, all hints of color varying shades of grey and purple. The lounge was decorated similarly, and the couch and set of chairs would comfortably seat at least six. The bathroom was large, with a purple and white diamond-tiled floor, light-wood cabinets, white marble countertops, a white marble a walk-in shower with a bench, a soaking tub, a higher-than-normal toilet, and a bidet. I’d never seen anything like this associated with a hospital setting, and had been expecting something utilitarian and claustrophobic. This just felt…peaceful, and very much like home. It made me momentarily forget that hey-o, a watermelon sized human will be coming out of your vagina in this very place before you know it, and that’s what sold me on the place, in the end. The tour guide asked us if we’d like the suite redecorated to our tastes, which would add another $40,000 or more to our total, dependent upon said tastes. I said no thank you as politely as possible, deciding right then and there to make a matching donation for whatever our bill total was to a local maternity support organization.

 I was wheeled into our suite at 10:32 PM, contractions timing at eight minutes apart. Despite my desire to wait to change into the purple and green tie-dyed delivery gown I’d found online and carefully packed in the go-bag, I was cajoled into donning the Portland’s version so Dr. Phillips could examine me immediately and determine what stage of labor I’d reached. It was cream-colored and patterned with tiny red rosebuds, which did not please me in any way, shape or form. I’d begun to express my displeasure, but as I placed my feet into the bed’s stirrups another contraction began, the pressure starting at my lower back and working its way around to my stomach, fading after forty-five seconds or so. After he’d completed poking and prodding my internal nether region the verdict was rendered – my cervix was approximately fifty percent effaced, dilation at six centimeters. All my vitals were as they should be, so Tom and I were left to our own devices, instructed to let the nurse stationed at the door of our suite know when the strength and duration of my contractions intensified significantly and/or began occurring less than five minutes apart.

 At 11:18 PM the nurse, a lovely dark-haired young woman with sky blue eyes named Bridget, knocked twice and entered, our go-bag in hand. As she placed it on the chair nearest the door I noticed that her hair, styled in two long braids, was decorated with both a bright pink and an electric blue bow tied at the bottom of each one…which was, in all honesty, adorable. I sensed that my resistance to the rosebud monstrosity that had been thrust upon me might have given her the impression that I was going to be one of ‘those’ patients, so I quickly dug around in the duffel for my trusty bag of truffles and told her to help herself after saying thank you. She grinned from ear to ear, stating that Lindor truffles were her very favorite. I said me too, showed her my sterile-wrapped gown, and our encounter ended with a gentle high-five. The healing power of chocolate…so grossly underrated.

 As soon as the room door closed behind her I untied Rosebud, wriggled out of it, then walked into the bathroom to deposit it in the laundry bin. Tom followed me, still-wrapped tie-dye gown in hand. When I turned around to face him, he gasped, and I paused, head tilted to the right in confusion.

 “What? Is there something hanging out of me? I’d like to think I’d feel it if that was the case, and I sure as shit can’t see…”

 He shook his head slowly. “No. It’s just…you’re so…so…”

 “Enormous?”

 “You are not enormous. Do you remember New York? The night we went to DANIEL? You in that red dress, so beautiful, the embodiment of Aphrodite, and I said…”

 I nodded, my voice hushed as I recalled his words. “You said the only way you could imagine that I’d ever be more beautiful than I was in that moment is if I was heavily pregnant with our child.”

 He smiled softly, expression quickly turning to one of reverent contemplation. “And there you are, standing before me, naked as the day you yourself were born, about to bring our son into this world and I…I…Maude, the love I have for you…my heart is so full I fear it may burst, and my soul, it’s…it’s…free. Soaring. Light surrounds you…it always does…but right now, it’s so radiant, so luminous…it’s almost too intense to gaze upon, but I find myself unable to look away.”

 I took a single step toward him, and as I lifted my right foot to take a second my uterus decided it was once again contraction time, but my discomfort level jumped up two notches on Allie Brosh’s Better Pain Scale from the last one, which had been a four, ‘My pain is not fucking around.’ This one was a six, ‘Ow. Okay, my pain is super legit now.’ I couldn’t speak, and it just kept going and going and going. Tom tossed the package onto the sink counter as he strode to my side, offering himself for me to lean on, arms wrapping around me as he whispered in my ear.

 “Breathe, my love. Breathe. I’m here. I’ve got you. Breathe. In, then out. In, then out. I’ve got you.”

 In, then out. In, then out. He breathed with me, and as instantly as it had begun, it ceased. He released me slowly, kissing me on the forehead as he pulled away. I reached out and took hold of his forearm.

 “How long was that? Do you know?”

 He nodded. “Around sixty-five seconds by my count. I’m thinking we should get your gown on and have Dr. Phillips come back in. You?”

 “Probably not a bad idea. That’s right on the edge between active labor and transition.” I let go of his forearm and he walked back to the counter to retrieve the gown, carefully pulling the plastic apart and removing the bright fabric, then shaking it out to unfold it. He grinned, holding it up in front of himself.

 “I don’t know…I’m quite fond of this. Perhaps I should wear it instead?”

 “Go for it. I’m fine with staying just the way I am. Everyone’s going to get a good look at my hoo-ha anyway…why bother to get dressed at all?” I was only half kidding…the thought of wearing clothing at this juncture seemed not only unnecessary, but unnatural. He stared at me blankly, and I lifted my arms out to the side. “Come on. Do the deed before I change my mind.”

 His brow furrowed. “Maude, if you feel that you’d be more comfortable…”

 “I was joking. Mostly. I’m going to wear it for now, and if I want it gone somewhere down the line I’ll just…take it off. Does that sound reasonable? Also, I really, really want an ice-cold Coke. Which is totally unrelated to our current topic of discussion but fuck, I am thirsty.” The gown was a wrap-style with snaps at the shoulders, and as he was leaning in to fasten them my eyes met his. “Thank you. What you said before…I’m so blessed to have you as my partner in this, and in my life.”

 He kissed me soundly on the lips, then guided me over to the bed and pushed the call button. Bridget was inside the room before Tom’s finger fully lifted off the button, and he relayed the details of what I’d just experienced. She agreed that Dr. Phillips needed to check me right away, then rushed out the door to track him down. The bed had been lowered so I could heft myself in and out of it without looking like a seal flopping around in the sand, and once I was appropriately situated I turned to Tom, smirking as I attempted what was likely an incredibly sub-par imitation of Loki.

 “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll have that drink now.”

 There was an apartment-sized refrigerator in the lounge area, complete with an ice maker, and an adjacent beverage cart contained glassware. I’d peeked inside the fridge earlier and found it stocked with all the things we’d requested…Coke, water, mocha flavored coffee creamer, half-and-half, orange juice, and small containers of chocolate milk. Tom chuckled as he jogged out of my sight, and I could hear ice clinking and the sound of a soda can hissing as the top was popped. He reappeared, beverage in hand, just as Dr. Phillips knocked once and entered the room with Bridget.

 “So, Maude, Bridget tells me you’ve had in increase in intensity and duration?”

 I nodded, holding out my hands and making a ‘gimmie’ motion to Tom as he walked around to the left side of my bed and handed me the tumbler of Coke. I counted five ice cubes as I brought it to my lips and took a long, enormously satisfying sip. “Mmm, oh, that is SO good. Thank you. Sorry, Dr. Phillips. Super thirsty. Yes to the increase in intensity and duration. Significant, intensity-wise.”

 “Well, let’s have a look, then. And remember, if you change your mind about pain management, all you need do is ask, all right?”

 Pain management medications were off the table for me, the only exception being an epidural if the need for a C-section arose. Tom had even begrudgingly pinky-sworn that if I wavered, he’d remind me that I wanted to experience holding Henry for the first time stone-cold sober. Repeatedly, if warranted.

 “Thanks, Dr. Phillips. I’m still a ‘no’ for that option, though.” Bridget raised the bed, slid the stirrups out from their hiding place and guided my feet into place as I handed my glass back to Tom. Just as Dr. Phillips finished donning his gloves and sat down on the wheelie stool there I was, back at Contraction Central and he got his first glimpse of Trucker Mouth Maude before the pain paralyzed me completely. “Holy shit, what the actual fucking fuck, mother fucker?!”

 Tom, who I assumed had set my drink down on the side table, reached out to take my hands in his. “Remember, in, then out. In, then out. In…then out.”

 As soon as the pain subsided enough for me to speak, I couldn’t resist squeezing in a witty retort between breaths. “That’s what…got us…into this…in the first place.”

 Tom and Dr. Phillips roared with laughter while Bridget blushed several shades darker than the pink of her braid bows, and I leaned back on the bed, not even having realized I’d shifted forward. Dr. Phillips gave me another minute to relax, then resumed his evaluation. As he finished he glanced up at Bridget and nodded, and she nodded in return, then left the room. He stood, walked across the room to remove his gloves and deposit them in the proper receptacle, then returned to stand on the right side of the bed, opposite Tom. His expression was stoic, and just as I’d begun to panic the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile that quickly grew into a giant grin.

 “Maude, you’re fully effaced and eight centimeters dilated…which, as I’m sure you’re aware, means that you’re in the transition stage. You may feel the urge to push, and let me know of you do, but it’s best if you’d hold off until you’re at ten centimeters. In the meantime, let’s get you properly set up with some monitoring equipment. Bridget’s gathering the team, and Tom, you’ll need to put on a gown…”

 Tom nodded. “Yes sir. I do need to change my clothes first, though.” He squeezed my hands gently. “Will you be all right if I leave you alone?”

 I pulled my hands from his, releasing him. “Yep. I’ll be fine. Go. Hustle that bustle.”

 He grabbed the go-bag and walked quickly toward the bathroom, managing to be back at my side just in time for another contraction. This one lasted for almost two minutes according to Dr. Phillips, and it was downright beastly, leaving me panting. And thirsty. I turned to Tom to ask for another sip of soda and when I noticed what he was wearing I was completely and totally blown away. Biting my lip, I reached out to touch the ratty old used-to-be-black V-neck, and when I looked up at his face he was smiling, a sweet, bashful smile that evoked within me a whirlwind of emotions. My voice cracked when I finally found the correct words to formulate my question, even though I was relatively certain that I already knew the answer.

 “Tom, is that…is that your lucky shirt?”

 He placed his hand over mine, and after so many months of bump-stroking the feel of a flat stomach against my palm was oddly foreign. His voice was little more than a whisper. “You remembered.”

 “I remember. You were wearing it the day you got the call from Ken, and you were wearing it the first time you saw me when you were jogging on the beach in Hawaii, and now…”

 He interrupted, reaching out with his free hand to cup my chin. “I’m wearing it because today is the first time I’m going to see our son.”

 Bridget’s arrival with two other staff members in tow cut our moment short, and Tom put his gown on over his lucky shirt and running shorts while I was fitted with sensors to monitor my blood oxygen level, heart rate, contraction strength, as well as Henry’s heart rate. A blood pressure cuff that would automatically inflate in order to take a reading every few minutes was added to the mix as well, and I realized that this was it, I was in the proverbial birthing bed and would remain as such until said birth occurred. As if on cue, my innards clenched and tightened like a vise grip. An alarm sounded on one of the monitors and Dr. Phillips, who’d been engrossed in conversation with the staffers as they were on their way out the door, spun around to investigate. His eyes widened, which of course freaked me right the fuck out. Said freak-out must have been obvious as he immediately held up both hands, palms toward me.

 “Nothing to worry about, that one’s to let me know that it’s time to get my ducks in a row. I’ll scrub up straight way, Maude. It would appear that you might be seeing your little one a good bit sooner than I anticipated.”  

 While Dr. Phillips prepped, Tom jogged back to the bathroom to retrieve the go-bag, then jogged back to me. His voice was measured and calm when he spoke, but despite his best efforts to keep his shit together, his hands were shaking like crazy as he set the bag down and began rifling through its contents.

 “Okay, we need music. The Beats pill is in here somewhere, isn’t it? I don’t see it…oh fucking hell, did I forget to put it back after I used it last week? Fuck.”

 Dr. Phillips once again took his place on the wheelie stool and I pointed a thumb in Tom’s direction. “Allow me to apologize for his foul mouth as well…mainly because I think it’s partly my fault…”

 Tom snorted. “Partly?” He turned toward us, holding the Beats pill in his right hand and raising it up over his head. “Music shall be had, as victory is mine. I just need my…” His face fell. “Shit. Shit shit shit… where’d I put my fucking phone? This is unbelievable. Can’t things go as planned just one fucking time?”

 I could feel a tingling sensation, one that I now recognized as an indicator of an impending contraction. This wasn’t something I’d expected, him losing his cool, and I had no idea how to handle it or calm him down. And, it frightened me because though, as always, I hated to admit it…I needed him. Nothing else mattered…not the birth plan itinerary, the lighting, the music…all of that was extraneous bullshit. My words came out considerably harsher than I’d wanted them to, but the pain had begun to creep in and I knew there wasn’t much time to say what had to be said.

 “Tom. I don’t need the music. What I do need is…YOU. Oh fuck me, here we go…” I squeezed my eyes shut in order to attempt to fully focus on breathing as I navigated through and away from the pain, barely hearing Dr. Phillips commenting that I was doing an excellent job and to keep with it. I exhaled with a groan, feeling someone first touching, then rubbing my back. The pain was so much more intense…so much worse than I’d expected…that the phrase ‘drawn and quartered’ crossed my mind, and as it waned I flopped back onto the raised head of the bed. The rubbing had ceased, and I wanted it to resume, so I opened my eyes to determine who the appropriate party to screech my demand at happened to be. And there he was, one hand on the left rail, the other holding the bed’s controller. My partner, my love…my Tom. He didn’t notice that I’d opened my eyes at first, so I watched him quietly evaluating the lift and lower options until he looked up and saw me staring back at him. His head tilted slightly to the right, lips pressed together tightly, corners of his mouth turned upward just a fraction. He let go of the rail and reached out to stroke my left cheek, then ran the back of his hand down the side of my neck, voice hushed with repentance.

 “Very sorry about that.” I shook my head back and forth slowly, smiling ever-so-softly. “No, that behavior warrants an apology. It was incredibly selfish, and…”

 I shook my head again, firmer and faster. “While I appreciate that, allow me to remind you that we’ve never done this before and thus have no fucking idea as to what we’re doing and neither of us like to roll that way, so…” I cringed as the tingling began anew, and he held up the controller.

 “May I try something?” I nodded, and as he pushed a button the head of the bed reclined away from me. I frowned until he put the controller back in its place, bent to remove his sneakers and socks, then carefully climbed into the bed behind me, long legs coming to rest to the outside of mine. The stirrups prevented contact from my hips downward, but everywhere else we were touching, and the warmth of his body against me immediately reduced my stress levels by at least half. One arm wrapped around my belly, the other across my upper chest, his chin coming to rest on my left shoulder. “How’s this?”

 I leaned my head against his, placing one hand atop the arm cradling my belly. “Exactly right. Thank you.”

 Neither of us bothered to inquire of Dr. Phillips whether or not this was a permissible arrangement, me because even if he deemed it not allowed I would have told him to fuck right off. But nicer. Probably. Tom’s reason for not asking, I imagined, was related to his consideration of my anticipated reaction. But there wasn’t an opportunity to debate either way, in the end, because it was contraction time again and I found myself singing those words in my head to the tune of Ace Frehley’s ‘Cold Gin’, featured on his solo album way back in 1974. Strange to be thinking of things you’d absorbed during your stint with a former lover while giving birth to your husband’s child, but we’re just puny humans who have little to no control over how our hard drives are structured. While we were together I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around Norman’s devotion and dedication to his son, but now…hmm, maybe that’s why those wires crossed. Problem resolved, trouble ticket closed. Onward with the pain train, destination push it, push it real good…because despite Tom being right there with me, literally and figuratively holding me up while whispering constant encouragement into my ear, I was relatively certain that if this wasn’t over soon I was going to die. And shortly thereafter, as the pain reached its pinnacle and the contractions seemed infinite in their duration, I found myself pretty close to wishing I would.

 Thirty-seven minutes into transition, Dr. Phillips said the magic words…three sentences worth of them, actually, and if I could have reached him, I would have kissed him.

 “All right, Maude. Ten centimeters, fully dilated…and with that last one, baby’s officially crowning. Go ahead and start pushing with the next. Would you like us to set up a mirror so you can view the progression?”

 I didn’t find that last sentence at all magical, however, and I shook my head back and forth in lieu of screaming ‘no oh my god no do not want’. Tom, however, nodded in the affirmative. Not only did I have no desire to witness my body doing the birth thing, the thought of him seeing it was disconcerting for a variety of reasons. I turned my head toward him.

 “If you want to it’s fine, I’ll just, you know, not look… but…you…are you sure about watching this? I mean…it’s…and…” I paused for a second as it dawned on me that the main reason why I didn’t want him to see what was going on down there was because somewhere, deep down in my psyche, I was afraid he’d never be able to look at me the same way again from a sexual standpoint. How could he possibly be okay with eating me out after watching our kid slide out of the same place? I grimaced, preparing to explain myself in front of people who were essentially strangers. “…what’s been seen cannot be unseen, if you catch my drift.”

 In lieu of an immediate response he kissed me, running his tongue over my lips, then nudging it into my mouth. He pulled away, smiling and squeezing me gently as he spoke quietly.

 “There’s nothing in this world or any other that could ever change what I feel for you.”

 I turned my head to face forward again, lifting my right hand and waving at Dr. Phillips and Bridget. “Well, let’s give the man a show, then. I’ll just kick back and, oh, I don’t know…give birth, I guess?”   

 We all chuckled, and Bridget pulled the mirror out from the right side of the bed’s wooden base, where I assumed it was stored in a hidden slot much like the stirrups had been. It was on a pivot stand at the end of a long, foldable arm, and as she was trying to find an angle wherein Tom could see clearly but was out of my direct line of sight, I felt another contraction ramping up. This one seemed less intense, but the urge to bear down and push was overwhelmingly powerful. Instinctual, truthfully, because everything I’d planned and learned went right out the motherfucking window as my body began calling all the shots. Push. Hold. Short, intermittent breaths. Fingers wrapped around the rails, grasping with the strength of someone dangling over a cliff. And then, a reprieve, as well as kudos from Dr. Phillips.

 “Well done, Maude. Well done indeed. Two or three more and baby’s head should be out.”

 Between panting breaths, I managed to squeak out an ‘m’kay’. Tom was silent on the matter, and just as I was about to turn my head in his direction the pain was back and I became acutely aware of the pressure on my premium as I strained to expel what was causing it. Push, push, push…hold. Two breaths, then push and hold again. My muscled relaxed, but the pressure remained, flesh stretched to the limit and threatening to give way. Tom’s voice sounded as if he was in another room, even though I could see his arms still wrapped around me.

 “It’s the top of his head. I can see him. There he is. My god.”

 There were more words, but all I heard was gibberish as the contractions initiated a rapid-fire assault on my pelvic floor. One after another, with barely thirty seconds between them, which wasn’t enough time for me to even consider resting. The stretching eased briefly for one contraction, but with the next it was back and twice as strong, which made me lose my focus and cut my pushing short. When I didn’t push with the one that followed, Dr. Phillips took notice.

 “Maude, baby needs you to keep pushing. We’re at the shoulders, and once they’re through, the remainder is much smoother. Rest through one more, then back at it, all right?”

 It wasn’t all right…I was exhausted, I was hurting, and I was just…done. So very fucking done. But as I rested as he’d suggested, the phrase ‘baby needs you to keep pushing’ repeated in my head, so I snatched it up and made it my mantra because it was the only thing that mattered…Henry. Birth was the start of my parenting journey, the first step, the first test…and I wasn’t going to let him down. Failure. Is. Not. An. Option, Maude. Unfortunately, though my mind was willing, my body was less so. Three pushes later very little progress had been made, and realized the problem was that I felt like I just couldn’t apply enough force in my current position. I pulled myself forward on the bed rails, Tom moving with me to support my weight, and while that helped, midway through the next contraction my left foot slipped out of the stirrup and a rage tantrum born of frustration ensued.

 “FUCK. Fuck me, fuck this, fuck EVERYTHING. Especially those shitty fucking stirrups. I need to have my knees, like…like…closer. To me. FUCKING CLOSER.”

 As Bridget quickly began to fidget with the stirrup settings, Tom’s arms unwound from around me. I was just about to yell at him and ask where the fuck he thought he was going when I felt his hands slide up the back of my thighs and come to rest behind my knees. He pulled upward and back, his forearms now in the crooks of my knees to serve as a brace, and his hips shifted so he could lean forward and use his torso in the same fashion. When I glanced at him the expression he wore nearly made me burst into tears…it was a mixture of fear, strength, determination, encouragement and love. So much love. He craned his neck to touch his forehead to mine.

 “Is that better?” I nodded, moving both our heads like bobble dolls. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Good. All you need to do is push. I’ll hold you in place, shift you around, whatever you need, all right?” Another nod from me, followed by him moving his head back to a more comfortable position. With the next contraction I bore down, leaning into him as he pulled my knees up and back, the stretching sensation so extreme I felt as if I was ripping in two. And so I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed, a raw, primal sound that I’d had no idea I was capable of making. I screamed again with the one that followed, and the seven after that as well, at which point the pressure dissipated and the pain was reduced to a stinging sensation which caused me to assume that this was it, I’d gone numb because I was finally on my way out and lo and behold, I truly wasn’t even mad at it. I felt Tom shaking and experienced a tinge of sorrow at the fact I was leaving him until he shouted and I realized he was laugh-crying.

 “You did it! Maude! You did it! He’s out! He’s here! Open your eyes! Open your eyes!”

 Instead of following his directive I froze in disbelief, thinking that this couldn’t possibly be real, that it was actually over, until I heard first a gasp, then a mewling whimper that quickly turned into a hearty cry of displeasure. My eyes flew open and there he was, lying on the soaked padding in the space between my body and the edge of the bed, Bridget’s left arm serving as a safety barrier while her right hand rested on his chest in order to keep him in securely in place. Dr. Phillips first snipped the cord that had tethered us, then gently wiped blood and mucous from his face. His skin was a deep pink, head covered with a thin layer of black hair, eyes still shut, fists balled and shaking as if to protest his introduction to a bright, chilly space away from everything he’d ever known. I reached between my legs for him, feeling Tom’s arms slowly lowering them so my feet were touching the mattress. Just as I was about to make contact I hesitated, unsure of how to position my hands in order to pick him up safely from this angle. Dr. Phillips smiled, patting my right hand with his left.

 “You’ll do fine, Maude. One hand behind his head, the other under his bottom from the other side. I’m right here, just in case.”

 I could feel Tom unsnapping my gown at the shoulders and adjusting it to bare the upper area of my chest, and as my fingers connected with Henry’s skin I felt…honestly, there’s no way to describe how I felt. It’s a moment outside of time. A life that had sparked inside me, then grown inside me was now right in front of me, breathing, moving…I could hear the sound of his voice and he was warm and alive and real and I, Maude formerly-Gallagher-now-Hiddleston, was somebody’s mother. And thus I formally introduced myself as such to my son as I slipped my left hand beneath his head and he opened his eyes and stared straight into mine.

 “Henry. It’s okay, baby. Your Mamma’s right here. Still me, just a different view.” I wiggled my right hand under his bottom and lifted ever so slowly and carefully, bringing him upward and finally holding him to my chest, skin to skin. He’d stopped crying and his blue eyes were wide as I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and watched him blink in what I interpreted as surprise. “Welcome to the world. Mamma loves you with her whole heart, her whole soul and then some.”

 I turned to look at Tom, who was unabashedly weeping, and grinned with wonder. “Hello, Daddy. Your son has your eyes, I think.” He leaned forward, his arms wrapping around my mid-section as he peered over my left shoulder. I turned my gaze back to Henry, shifting so his head rested in the crook of my elbow and watched as Tom raised his right hand, fingertips first gently stroking Henry’s left cheek, then slowly tracing down and around his body all the way to his feet. I’ll never forget the tone of his voice when he managed to speak…full of reverence, love, awe, and pure, unadulterated joy.

 “Hello, my Henry. My boy. My son. Welcome. I can’t quite believe you’re finally here, that I’m able to see you and touch you. Daddy loves you with his whole heart, his whole soul and then some, too.” As he resumed his stroking he reversed course, and both of us gasped when Henry opened his fist and grabbed onto Tom’s pinky finger. Tom’s eyes met mine, and the look on his face was so similar to Henry’s when I’d kissed his forehead that I totally lost it and started laugh-crying myself.  

 “Tom oh my god…Henry gave me that same look when I kissed him and I can’t…I can’t…” Tom began to chuckle as well, then nuzzled my neck as we both stared down at the small human we’d created until I experienced a minor contraction and remembered that there was uterine clean up to be done. Dr. Phillips saw it on the monitor and cleared his throat before speaking.

 “Terribly sorry for having to interrupt, but we do need to move forward with the placenta delivery and I’d like to take a closer look to see if you need any stitches, Maude. While we’re busy with that Bridget will get Henry fully cleaned up, diapered, dressed, and wrapped.”

 I frowned as she walked around the bed to my right side, and found myself suppressing a growl when she reached for Henry. My body had stiffened, and Tom must have sensed my admittedly semi-bonkers territorial reaction at the idea of someone else holding my newborn son because he extended his right hand in Bridget’s direction, palm out, causing her to pause. His voice was friendly when he spoke, but firm.

 “Bridget, I’d like to be the one to clean and dress Henry for the first time…with your guidance, of course.”

 She withdrew, nodding. “Certainly. I’ll bring the bassinet closer to the bed so Maude can see you both. We’ll need to weigh and measure him first, but the scale and ruler are built right in so that’s easy-peasy.”

 Tom kissed my cheek and began the process of disentangling himself from me. One hand remained on my back the entire time, supporting me until he could raise the head of the bed back up to take his place. I looked up at him, biting my lip, unsure of what to say. I shook my head, frowning.

 “I’m so sorry…I don’t…I just…’

 He leaned in to kiss me again, this time the top of my head, despite the fact that I was literally drenched with sweat. “Please, love, don’t be sorry. I’m so proud of you right now, for that, and for everything. And in awe of your strength…” He choked back a sob. “Thank you, my warrior goddess, for taking me as your own and giving so much of yourself to provide this most precious gift…our son. Our…family.”

 Though I tried to hold back my own tears, they fell anyway and began a rapid descent down my cheeks, then dripped off my chin and onto Henry. I lifted him slowly as I turned toward Tom. “Dude, here. Please take him before I start dripping snot on him too.”

 The sight of Tom cradling Henry in his hands, then holding him to his chest while waiting for Bridget to lock the bassinet wheels in place was surreal…and profoundly, indescribably beautiful. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him holding an infant, and when I had previously it had nudged something inside me that I was unfamiliar with, perhaps even resistant to. And now, on February 11th, 2017, at 12:59 AM according to the clock on the wall to my left, I finally fully understood what that something was. The eternal maternal…the innate desire to create, nurture, and love another human being. Long buried, suppressed in sorrow, imprisoned by fear…shackled by the possibility of loss, and the terror of failure. As I watched my husband lower our son into the bassinet and begin to tenderly cleanse his skin of the remnants of the cocoon my body had crafted for him I felt the power of ‘mother’ rise up within me, and for the first time in my life it was a power representative of good, not evil, and it released me from my chains and banished my fears and though I wouldn’t have thought it possible, I felt more whole, more complete, than even having Tom become a part of my life had made me.

 It was nearly impossible to look away, even as Dr. Phillips applied significant pressure to my belly while I bore down and pushed some more. After the placenta delivery I heard him mutter something about two stiches, and when he asked me if I wanted a numbing agent applied I shook my head, still staring fixedly at Tom as he first diapered than dressed Henry in the simple white cotton onesie with a green-tinted shadow bust of Shakespeare printed on the front that we’d chosen for him. Then came the tiny purple socks, followed by a white knit hat with his initials, HTH, embroidered on it in purple and green thread. Last came the purple and green tie-dyed baby blanket that matched my gown almost exactly, and I grinned when Tom managed to swaddle him with such perfection that Bridget patted him on the back and told him she’d never before seen such a lovely job done by a first-time parent. He lifted Henry out of the bassinet, then began to rock him slowly back and forth in his arms, humming quietly. It wasn’t anything I recognized, so I assumed it was in audible expression of what his heart was feeling. I nearly wept again, but Dr. Phillips tapped my knee in order to divert my attention. Which was warranted, because I was pretty sure he’d been talking but I hadn’t heard a single word. I turned to him, clearing my throat prior to speaking.

 “Sorry, I think you said stuff but I have no clue what. Would you mind repeating, please?”

 He smiled. “I don’t mind a bit, Maude. All of the placenta was accounted for, and the tear to your perineum was around half a centimeter, which is very minor, especially considering the fact that you delivered a nine pounder…”

 I blinked rapidly, jaw dropping open slightly. “Wait, what? Nine? Nine pounds?”

 “Nine pounds, four ounces to be exact. 22 inches long. Heart rate, respiration and coloring are all excellent and Bridget watched while Tom dressed him to make sure muscle tone and reaction were up to snuff. You’ve got a very healthy fellow there. Might have something to do with the source material.” I laughed, and Dr. Phillips shook his head. “No, I mean that, Maude. You worked hard to take care of your body throughout your pregnancy, you stayed physically active, you ate well…”

 Snorting, I pointed both index fingers at him. “If ‘ate well’ equals too much sugar, caffeine, salt and a bunch of really weird shit then you’re spot on.”

 He chuckled. “I might just start recommending that diet to patients if this is the end result. In all seriousness, though…you approached giving birth with incredible focus and determination, but when you faltered I began going over the C-section prep in my head because I wasn’t certain if you’d be able to continue. But before I could get to step three you were back at it, and stronger than ever. I admire your tenacity, Maude. Well done. Very, very well done.”

 What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? I decided the keep it simple, stupid strategy would serve me best. “Thank you, Dr. Phillips.”

 “You’re welcome. Allow me to take a moment to advise you that while you don’t feel any of it now since the oxytocin is flowing freely, tomorrow will be an entirely different story. You’ll be sore all over, especially your stomach muscles and the entirety of your pelvic floor. Since you have stitches, you’ll need to use a perineal irrigation bottle instead of paper when you use the bathroom…a bidet might sound better, but that’s off limits until the stitches dissolve. You’ll have post-partum bleeding for ten days or so, and after that light spotting for up to a few weeks. We’ll go over everything again and provide you with written instructions during the discharge procedure. Right now, Bridget will clean you up a bit and help you into a disposable undergarment designed for a heavy flow, and then you’ll be ready to give feeding Henry a go. Would you like me to send in the lactation consultant or would you prefer to attempt it on your own first?”

 “On my own, please.” I winced as whatever liquid Bridget was using made contact with my skin. She apologized as she continued, then patted me dry with a soft cloth. Hefting my ass up in the air was far easier than I thought it would be, and the gauzy undies felt weird but weren’t technically uncomfortable. I looked down at myself, and though it was still puffy, my stomach no longer looked like a giant egg was lurking inside and ready to burst through my skin a la Alien-style. I’d read several articles in which women described feeling empty in an emotional sense after giving birth as a reaction to not being pregnant anymore. Me? Not so much. I was over the fucking moon at the prospect of wearing pants again. Real, actual, people pants that had buttons and zippers and pockets. I tilted my head to the left and raised my brows as I returned my gaze to Dr. Phillips, who was currently standing to my right as he waited for Bridget to finish washing up. “So…when can I, like, get up and walk around?”

 “Whenever you feel ready. Move slowly, and if you feel light-headed, sit back down and rest. Let Tom do the lifting when Henry requires transporting for the next few hours, though, just to be safe. Would you like me to have the concierge bring something up for you both to snack on?”

 I leaned back, resting my head on the mattress. “Oh my god YES please. Anything from our preference sheet is fine. Thank you for thinking of it. And for everything, Dr. Phillips.”

 Tom echoed my sentiment, and Dr. Phillips and Bridget exited the suite so we’d have some privacy, Bridget reminding us to use the call button at any time if we needed anything at all. I reached out with both arms toward Tom, my hands making ‘gimmie’ motions.

 “Hand him over, Hiddleston. Let’s see if these boobs are good for more than just looking at.”

 He snorted. “They’ve always been good for more than just looking at. And while I truly never want to let him go, he’s starting to root at me a bit and I’m afraid I’m of little use to him in that particular department.”

 Henry whimpered as Tom pulled him away from his chest in order to return him to me and Tom talked him through it, voice barely above a whisper.

 “It’s all right, Henry. All is well. It’s time to pay Mamma a visit and have some breakfast. You’ll be warm and cozy again in no time.” And with that, my son was back in my arms again, staring up at me. I opened his blanket burrito enough to free his upper body, then removed his hat and rested him against my chest as I shifted the gown so my breasts were fully exposed. Tom was correct, there was rooting going on for sure. I took a deep breath, then used my right hand to lift my left breast and hold it up, nipple positioned directly in front of Henry’s mouth. I felt the mattress dip a smidge and moved my legs to the right so Tom could sit closer to me. Then, I waited…for a grand total of, like, thirty seconds and then…liftoff. Or latching, if you want to get all technical about it and shit. I looked up at Tom, who was staring down at Henry. When he finally met my gaze I grinned, as did he.

 “My body has made food for another human being and said human being is partaking in consuming the food and is also the sweetest, cutest, most adorable human being I’ve ever laid eyes upon aside from his father. Also, it feels really fucking strange. Not bad, just…strange.”

 We both stared at Henry as he continued to dine, lost in the glow, until the concierge knocked. Tom went to answer, and as the spell was broken I remembered that babies need burping and that not rotating between boobs would lead to unpleasantness. I positioned Henry carefully so his head was resting just below my left clavicle and began to pat his back rhythmically until he let loose a braaap that made me giggle-snort. While right boob got its turn, Tom fed me bagel pizzas while he wolfed down a turkey club sandwich. The suction on my nipple waned, and when Henry’s eyelids began to droop I burped him once more, then watched as he drifted off to dreamland for the first time in the outside world. Tom stood and took him from me, then returned him to the bassinet. I watched as he carefully re-burritoed Henry, put his hat back on, then covered him with a Winnie the Pooh cotton blankie. It was yellow, with all the characters printed in group in the center, and when Tom leaned down to kiss Henry’s forehead I began to weep. Tom came back to sit with me, pulling me into his arms and to his chest, weeping right along with me, neither of us speaking even when the tears were done and gone. I wouldn’t have thought that bond between us could possibly become stronger, nor the connection deeper, but that was indeed the case, though it remained unspoken because there were no words to convey how it felt or what it meant to both of us. All I could come up with in my head was that this love had been two and now it was three, and that was everything.

 I showered while Henry was sleeping, Tom having rolled the bassinet to just outside the bathroom, where he kept watch on both Henry and I while texting our friends and family to advise them that our bundle of joy had arrived and that they were welcome to come to the hospital Saturday afternoon at one PM for a meet-and-greet luncheon before we went home to hole up with our kid and figure out how all this worked. We’d let Bridget know that I was up and about so housekeeping could come in and change the bedding, and once I was cleaned up and dressed in my post-birth ensemble of disposable panties, a white nursing bra and a purple silk robe, an all-encompassing sense of exhaustion overwhelmed me, and as soon as I was in a horizontal position it was lights out for Mamma. Tom rested with me, fetching Henry from the bassinet at our bedside whenever he woke and began to fuss, changing his diaper or passing him to me for nursing, depending upon what seemed to be required at the time. Sometimes it was both, sometimes neither…and I’d decided going in that I wasn’t going to be a ‘cry it out’ parent. If my kid needed cuddling, he’d get cuddling no matter the hour or situation. Overcompensation for my own mother’s shitty parenting style? Probably…but as far as I knew this might be our one and only, and I was bound and determined to offer him everything I had to give.

 Part of our hospital package included a session with a professional photographer, which we decided to use during the luncheon. Tom and I had eaten breakfast at just after eleven AM, a full English for both of us, and he’d showered while I donned my outfit of the day…the addition of a pair of black cotton sweatpants and a fresh pair of disposable panties to the same nursing bra and purple silk robe I’d slept in. We worked together to change Henry’s diaper and outfit, opting for a rainbow-striped footed one-piece with a cartoon speech bubble on the front that read ‘Hello, World!’ in multi-colored script. Tom had barely finished pulling his own navy-blue sweater over his head when Simon and Luke turned up, a whole fifteen minutes early, which was, like, unheard of. And Simon, Mr. Extra Loud Especially At The Most Inconvenient Times, tip-toed into the room while whispering his greeting.

 “Maude, oh my god, look at you, you’re not pregnant anymore and Tom those jeans look like you haven’t washed them in weeks is that like, a style, and where is my nephew? WHERE?” He spotted the bassinet next to the bed and bolted over to it, Luke in tow. “Oh my HEART he’s gorgeous and he’s sleeping how do you get him to sleep the girls are still forever awake and making SOUNDS also sorry not sorry I’m going to wake him up now because I want to hold him and I need to see what color his eyes are.”

 I walked to join them, and even though I didn’t want to admit it, Dr. Phillips had been spot-on…my pelvic area hurt like a motherfucker. It was a constant throbbing, like a toothache, but, you know, in my uterus and vagina. Which didn’t, as far as I was aware, did not, in fact have teeth. Simon had already begun to pick Henry up but thought better of it, eyes meeting mine to ask for permission first. I nodded, and I couldn’t help but tear up at the sight of him holding my child. He’d always been so supportive and positive when I doubted this would ever happen, and both he and Luke had been by my side throughout the most horrific experience of my life…now here we all were, alive, healthy, happy and…parents. What a fucking thing. As Luke and Simon cooed over Henry everyone else began to filter in, including the concierge and photographer. In attendance were Diana and James, Emma, Sarah, Trudy, and, much to my pleasant surprise, Anne. When I asked how she’d gotten to London so quickly, she shrugged and said two days ago she’d just had a feeling and her plane had landed last night at seven PM. It was bittersweet, her being there…I loved her and had already designated her adopted Grandmamma, but her presence always had and always would remind me of the past. Even after you’ve come to terms with it all, the empty spaces where those you’ve lost once stood still remained. The brief bit of darkness faded as I participated in the game of pass the baby and pose for pictures, and I took advantage of having my hands free to shovel enough food into my face to feed three sizable adults. We all gathered for a final group shot, Tom and I front and center, with me holding Henry will sitting on Tom’s lap. Goodbyes were said, and as soon as everyone had departed we called in Dr. Phillips and Bridget for our discharge discussion. An hour and a half later we were walking out the side door of the hospital, hoping that our posting a photo of ourselves and Henry across all our social media accounts would reduce the paparazzi presence. It worked, in part at least, as there were only five of them outside…and they were all very polite and unusually subdued, so much so that when they asked for permission to photograph us we said it was fine as long as no flashes were used. We’d hired a car to pick us up and the driver had placed Henry’s seat inside for us, which made for a relatively quick getaway. Then, suddenly, we were at our destination…taking the elevator up to our place, walking inside…the Hiddlestons, ready to continue the adventure of a lifetime. As a family.

[mrpatrouiousachatz1993]

The American Education System and why it is broken.

Do you want to know why The American Education System is broken? It is because politicians are more interested in kids learning about Creationism and not Science. It is because politicians are more interested in preaching abstinence only rather than proper sex education. It is because our elected officials keep cutting the budget for Public Education and funding religious schools, charter schools, and private schools. It is because our elected officials care more about their own wealth. It is because our elected officials only care about the rich kids who can go to the top private schools.

How about instead of decreasing funding on Public Education, we INCREASE the Funding for Public Education. Let me tell you something, there are plenty of Private Schools that have extreme low standards for those entering into  kindergarten. My folks wanted me to go to a Private School because that is where everyone in my mom's side of the family went to. They all went to some kind of Private School. When I got tested to go into Kindergarten the private school wanted me to be held back. You know what their reason was? When they showed me a shopping bag of groceries they wanted me to say "Food" I said "Groceries" because that is what we call a shopping bag of food.  I was REJECTED from Private Education  because I called a shopping bag of food GROCERIES. I ended up going to Public School from K-12. Only time I went to Private School was Pre-School.

My mother would say that The University of Pittsburgh is a Private School. The University of Pittsburgh is considered to be Public Research Institution. Yes Pitt was originally founded as a Private College. The University of Pittsburgh is currently a member of the Commonwealth System of Higher Education which any school apart of Commonwealth System of Higher Education, or the Pennsylvania State System of Higher Education are considered to be Public Schools and "state-based".My point is, because of Public Education I learned what the government needs to fix. 

When you got Public Schools that have outdated textbooks that will teach you about The U.S's part of WWII and the holocaust killing six million Jews, but leave out Disabled holocaust Victims, LGBTQ+ holocaust victims. Will teach you about The Great Depression, but not the Stonewall Upraising, Will teach you that Christopher Columbus "Discovered" America, but will leave out that he was a rapist, and a murderer, oh and lets not forget that they leave out the fact he landed in SOUTH AMERICA and the U.S. or anywhere in North America. We learn more about The Vanzetti Trial and less about The Civil Rights Movement, The Trail of Tears, The LGBTQ+ Rights movement, or even the fact that Christmas and Halloween were originally Pegan Holidays and that our Christmas decoration came from the Pegan religion. We learn more about how to make a baby and don't learn about safe sex.  

For goodness sake, when I was in High School we read stuff like Romeo and Juliet, Oedipus, Macbeth, A Tale of Two Cities,  Lord of the Flies, Medusa, The Raven and any book, poem, or play that was written by a white (most likely) cisgender heterosexual man. We didn’t read anything by Gertrude Stein , Alison Bechdel, James Baldwin, Lorraine Hansberry,  August Wilson, Bayard Rustin (okay he was an activist but he do have a good number of publications so yes I do count him as an author), Alice B, Toklas, Kate Bornstien,or Leslie Feinberg. We didn’t read anything written by Women authors,  Black authors, or LGBTQ+ authors. Heck in Art Classes we never talked about Lili Elbe who was a Danish Painter, and a transgender woman. She was believed to have been one of the first trans people to ever have Sexual Reassignment Surgeries, and one of the surgeries believed to have been performed on her was a uterus transplant and she passed away 3 months after the surgery. The book and the Movie titled The Danish Girl fictionalize the story of Lili Elbe and Gerda Wegener.

There is a lot we leave out in education. We base off our education on standardized tests, outdated text books, white washing, cisnormativity, and heteronormativity. Instead of basing our education on tests, and outdated material, and center only around white cisgender heterosexual men, we need to expand our education further. Teach kids about Harvey Milk, Teach kids about how the Holocaust killed around 11 million people that includes teaching about the killings of Jews, the Disabled, LGBTQ+ people, etc. Have kids read books written by Queer authors, have kids read plays written by women, have children learn the full history of the Civil Rights Movement, Teach kids about the Stonewall Uprising and the LGBTQ+ rights movement, have kids learn about Bayard Rustin. Teach kids in English class about how the English language is always changing and give examples such as the word you use to always be a plural pronoun but now it is used as a singular pronoun. The word they was always used as a singular pronoun, then a plural pronoun, and now dictionaries are starting to add they as a singular pronoun to refer to as a gender pronoun. 

A true education, is based on facts, and a true education adapts to changes and teachers need to prepare to adapt to changing times. Education in the United States currently, regardless of what kind of school you go to, is a suggested curriculum that is pick and choose that is often made by those who hold more power than the teachers.  

[soul-music-is-life]

I've seen some of your post on the bullshit heartbeat bill in your state and I'm just wondering how you're dealing.

I have stared at this ask for a while, wondering whether or not I wanted to get in depth into this conversation. But I do have a lot to say on the matter. A while back I drafted a blog post that I toyed with sharing, but ultimately held off. Until now.

There’s…a lot to be covered.

First, thank you for sparking me to put this out there. I feel as though it’s important enough to say what I have to say on this. And though this platform is usually used for fandom stuff (I use other platforms for my political stuff), I’m not afraid to get real now and again.

Second, let me state that I have a background in medicine and a family heavily involved and working in politics…so I know how this goes.

I’m going to pre-empt this by saying that I am not going to argue with anyone who is pro-life who reads and disagrees. If you agree, great. If you disagree, there is no point in trying to fight me…because we will never see eye to eye.

This is strictly an argument based on why I’m against politics and religion in medicine. I am not looking for a debate here. There is no debate to be had. If you can’t look at things without religion, or if you can’t understand scientific/medical facts it’s a moot point.

It’s a long one. Saddle up.

Religion vs. Medicine:

Christianity should have no place in medicine (the bible condemns polyester blends, playing with pigskin, gambling, and divorce, but Christians still shop til they drop, support football, play the lottery, and divorce their spouses). Yet we get lawmakers constantly using the bible as a talking point (”Thank God” and “As God intended”) for this argument and ignoring testimony from physicians with degrees in science.

Men (with the exception of those whose sperm fertilized an egg in a consensual act) should have no say in what happens inside of a uterus that does not belong to them (and even then, it should be a discussion between those two people and their doctor, not a government made up of religious zealot white women and white-boys without uteri).

The government should not infringe upon individual rights of medical privacy via HIPAA.

Basically:

If you can not argue without the basis of religion (or you keep using “God” or The Bible as your baseline) or if you are not someone who has a uterus or in the medical profession or a woke dude/lady, you have no fucking say.

If you are a Christian forcing your beliefs upon the population based upon a magical book that has absolutely no proof, you have no fucking say. (see Separation of Church and State).

If you are a politician forcing your agenda upon every person with a uterus based upon something you can absolutely never experience, you have no fucking say.

If you do not have a background in science and you’re basing your opinions upon a movie (”Unplanned”) that is nothing more than political propaganda (and a pro-life “advocate” who saw dollar signs and a means to fame) then you have no fucking say (and yes, I’ve seen the film, which was nothing more than a religious backed, over-dramatized flick poorly representing abortions and relied heavily upon cheap emotional manipulation and inaccurate CGI). As someone who has seen medical procedures…it was exaggerated in the film. It is absolutely not a representation of safe and legal abortions. It also does not address the confidentiality between patient/doctor (See HIPAA and the testimony of physicians in this matter).

The fact of the matter is that people who are informed, intelligent, and know about the subject in depth are against these abortion bans, because they know it’s extreme and infringes upon basic rights. This includes women, our allies, and in some cases…people who are religiouswho stand with the pro-choice movement (I see you all, too, don’t doubt that…this is not a reflection upon men and Christians in general. This is about the extremists).

If you fall into the extreme religious or non-medical community category or you are a politician with no medical training and you’re writing bills and arguing against basic human rights…you can shut the fuck up.

***

For the sake of facts, let’s break it down:

-Sexual education can be informative, and the preventatives used to prevent pregnancy can fail. Condoms break. The pill can fail (and let’s not even get into the horrible side effects that contraceptives have on women. Let’s talk about the fact that there was actually a birth control for men that companies tried to put on the market, but the side effects were too ‘dangerous’. Sure, like high blood pressure and hormonal imbalances are something women look forward to). But yeah, let’s put all the responsibility on the woman.

-Women are raped, and given the trauma that occurs…they should not have to PROVE they were raped in order to receive medical treatment…including abortion. It’s horrific enough as it is, and there is NO wrong way to deal with the trauma. They shouldn’t have an additional stigma to be treated medically.

-Women who tend to make the choice to have an abortion have looked at their options and have made an informed CHOICE (that’s what this is about). And it’s not always at the 6-8 week mark, because hey…there are things such as irregular periods. Cis-men hating on women, let’s talk about women’s reproduction for a minute. Have you ever spent 7 days bleeding out of an orifice of your body? Have you ever shed the lining of an internal organ? Have you ever had blood clots inside of your body that feel like fucking death? Have you ever had your panties soaked in blood? Have you ever gotten stressed and missed a period or had medical issues that caused you to have irregular cycles? No? Okay, so how about the stressors of pregnancy? How about the changes a woman’s body goes through? How about the emotional and physical toll it takes? Truth is, hetero-normal men who are so deep-set in their beliefs will NEVER view women as equal. Reality is…we women areintelligent enough to make our own decisions.

-An embryo at 6-8 weeks is not viable. The so called “heartbeat” is an electrical activity in a group of cells that is at maximum a few inches long. There is no heartbeat, because there IS no heart. It hasn’t formed. There is not a cardiovascular system. It’s a vibration in a cell. It is ONLY active because of the woman. At this point it is NOT a child. I see pro-life/pro-birth people going, “but…but SCIENCE…Life at conception!” without understanding the depth of their actual words. The medical community knows their shit. And people can challenge them all they want with their opinions upon when life is sentient, but the truth is that there is no brain activity this early because IT IS NOT A HUMAN. It is an embryo, which can not exist without the mother’s body. Yet politicians use the term “heartbeat” because they know there are uneducated people out there who will eat it up and back them.

-Abortion is situational, and trying to force a law upon women based upon the preconceived notion that ALL women are using it as a form of birth control is ignorant, ill-informed, and extremely sanctimonious. There are numerous reasons for abortion, and none of them are the government’s fucking business.

Why religion and politics is a slippery slope in medicine:

Using a religious bias in a political war is against everything in the judiciary and legislative branch, and it is a slippery slope that is dangerous to patient care. When we start listening to “Gods” and evangelical people over actual physicians there is a huge problem. Ask yourself this question: if you were dying and a surgery could save your life…would you call a priest to perform the procedure? Or a licensed physician? If you choose a priest, enjoy seeing your version of the afterlife, because you’re going to die.

Abby Johnson (”Unplanned) is not a doctor. She is someone who “found God” and is using that to exploit the situation with her own views as a claim to fame. She ran a Planned Parenthood (in her own words). ONE chapter, which means it’s a FRACTION of the actual unit. She does not have a PHD. Her accusations against physicians are bullshit and is frankly an insult to actual doctors who perform safe medical procedures every day.

Politicians have no knowledge of medical protocols and treatments (and in a lot of cases know an embarrassingly low amount about women’s reproductive organs). And in many cases it is old white men (and religious white women) dictating what a woman can do with her body. If you think that’s okay, you’re part of the problem.

Religious zealots hold fast to beliefs written in a fairytale rather than learn the scientific facts associated with the base of their argument. They can’t grasp the concept that an organism can be created in a petrie dish with a “beating heart”, because of muscle contractions, not because it’s “alive” or “sentient”. They would rather blindly follow a God that may or may not exist rather than listen to educated physicians who know the topic.

Rapid fire question: if an unconscious woman and a frozen embryo were in a burning building and you could only save one of them, which one would you choose? Something that is not aware and is only a potential for life? Or the actual living breathing human?

This shit is not about “saving babies”. Politicians couldn’t give a shit about babies after they are born. It’s about controlling women/trans-folk and telling people what they can do with their body (it’s funny how Republican politicans haven’t outlawed smoking or drinking, because hey…that kills you! “AnD wE aRE PRo-LiFE!”).

Anyone who can’t see that all these abortion laws are just plays for politicians to pursue their own political pursuits is an idiot.

A Note about Georgia’s Abortion Law/Kemp

In my state, there was talks that Kemp was overheard saying that even if he wanted to veto the bill he couldn’t due to “his campaign promises”. Which is absolute bullshit, because given the polls…he knew that a majority of the people in his state are against it. This bill was co-sponsored by three men and three women who are basing it heavily upon religious purposes (if you don’t believe me, look up Ed Setzler, he’s been quoted several times leaning on religious propaganda for this bill). It was then voted through by a bunch of old white men.

Convenient how they threw the one token woman up front (but honestly, fuck her…because she should know better). The fact of the matter is that those who voted on this are a bunch of “good ole boys” with religious principles trying to bypass the fact that there is a separation of church and state. This bill has had numerous polls conducted to the constituents, and while they were divided…the PRO-CHOICE voice won every single poll. Put this up for a vote and I guarantee this would not become a law.

Kemp waited weeks to sign this (unlike the governor of Alabama).

Why?

Because he knew that most of his constituents were against this (given the polls that were conducted), but due to political pressure he couldn’t veto for fear that he’d lose the religious/deeply rooted republican votes. Even Kemp seemed to realize that this is against the moral rights of his citizens. But he doesn’t give a shit. Because as long as his pockets are lined with money and he can ignore his constituents, it’s all gravy for him.

To take this a step further, this asshole is the man who pointed a gun at a kid jokingly in an age where school shootings are rampant, as a joke…for political purposes. Cuz, ya know…violence is funny.

He’s “pro-life” but he shoots things.

This man is sponsored by the National Hunting and Fishing association, who supports killing living breathing things with a heartbeat for sport or “because it tastes good”.

I challenge anyone who is so “pro-heartbeat” to never shoot their guns again to kill something. Because hey, life is so precious to you, right? You value heartbeats so effing much, stop killing living breathing things. Nut up or shut up.

Actually, no, don’t nut up. That’s the reason for unplanned pregnancies in the first place. Just shut up.

…that will never happen. And you want to know why?

Because this is not about life. They don’t give a shit about “life”. This is about power. This is about control.

If you can’t see that an entire gender is being used for political gain then you need to wake the fuck up.

I’ll end this by saying that, yes, there might be some common ground that can be found here. In the people out there fighting every day for their rights. In the allies we have coming out of the woodworks. In the physicians who fought like hell for us in court.

I’m not an unreasonable person. I do believe in sensible laws. These bans are not sensible. They’re a power play. And that’s fucked up. And as much as I’d love to pack up and leave, I don’t have that option. A lot of people don’t (and in fact, I think the “Boycott GA” movement is so fucking stupid, because that doesn’t hurt the people in power. It hurts the PEOPLE).

So if you’re pissed off, remember this at the polls. Know who your reps are. And if they are for this bullshit, vote their asses out.

Flip their fucking seats.

I’m tired, you guys. Let’s get our rights back. Let’s take our state back.

[iwannaban0nym0us]

It Hurts

“Women’s reproductive rights” “After a woman gives birth” “Her” “He or she” “Girls” “Ladies and gentleman” [Women’s room] [Men’s room] “Girl’s team” “Boy’s team” “Son or daughter” “Mom and dad” “Brother or sister”

Everyone pretends I don’t exist Everyone tries to deny my existence Everyone implies I’m not there Everything is structured to ignore my existence Every tradition pretends I’m not real

It hurts I try to hide it I shrug it off I ignore it I say it’s ok

But it isn’t Every Little Stab Hurts

I. Exist. Too. Just because I don’t fit Into your neat little boxes Doesn’t mean I’m not real Doesn’t mean you can just ignore me I have a uterus too I play on this team too I’m listening to your speeches too I exist in this world too

How about “Reproductive rights” “After a person gives birth” “Their” “They” “United” “Folks” [Bathroom] “Coach A’s team” “Coach B’s team” “Child” “Parents” “Sibling”

Just change a few words It’s not very hard And it can make a world of a difference It can make me feel seen and heard It can make me feel real It can make me feel like I have a place in this world Because I do Weather or not you care to acknowledge me I am here and I am queer

[battlestar-royco]

What's your opinion on Rhaegar annulling his marriage to marry Lyanna?

Y I K E S. TL;DR the annulment added insult to injury. It was such a stupid and problematic decision on D&D’s part and I hated it. Long answer? Here we go: It’s so hard for me to take anything that happens on the G0T show seriously anymore, but I’ll try. From an in-universe perspective, I think Rhaegar is a huge stupid asshole and he can honestly severely choke for disrespecting Elia like that and disrupting the entire realm just because he wanted to marry Lyanna. Shame on him for treating Elia like an inconvenience instead of an actual human being and a serious necessary political ally for his family. Shame on him for forgetting about his wife and three kids. Shame on him for kidnapping a sixteen-year-old girl. The annulment of the Targ/Martell marriage caused disastrous consequences not only for him, not only for the Dornish and the Starks, but for all his subjects. The annulment and everything leading up to it–crowning Lyanna at the tourney, the kidnap, keeping her in a tower, etc–were unfathomably stupid and nonsensical choices for him to make.

From a meta perspective, it’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen. Like I said, the Martells are an important ally for the Targaryens. But I doubt show-only fans (and lbr, D&D themselves) have any idea the geopolitical significance of Dorne. People have no idea how terrible of a political move this actually was and how much carnage it caused. They just care about “YAAAAAS KING JON.” At the cost of all sense and intrigue, D&D represented it as something romantic and necessary to promote their white boy fave. R+L was never supposed to be some cute loving relationship. We only know a small amount of what actually happened. Rhaegar was 24 and Lyanna was 16. Rhaegar believed their son would be the prince that was promised. We know nothing of either of their feelings. Her kidnap, right after the Mad King murdered Rickard and Brandon Stark, started a civil war that killed countless people. That shouldn’t be romanticized. In fact, its romanticization goes contrary to the theme of the books: privileged nobles don’t give a shit about the common folk or uniting against a common enemy, and they’ll keep doing their petty shit to stay in power and destroy everyone’s quality of life. The effects of R+L and Robert’s Rebellion–starving people, heightening violence, instilling terror and tensions–are still reverberating through Westeros nearly two decades later.

Plus, R+L flashbacks are cheesy and a waste of time, and they go against the themes. R+L is interesting BECAUSE we don’t actually know what happened. It’s all faulty/biased memory, prophecy, visions, and dreams. @D&D, that’s called INTRIGUE, you dumbasses. Also, it takes away from Jon’s character. Jon’s bastardy is integral to the way he operates in the world, the way others treat him, his relationships with his “father” and “siblings,” his choice to go into the Night’s Watch. The subtext is that his parentage doesn’t matter. He is a Stark. He is a leader. Confirming R+L=J shits on that. And it’s beyoooooond problematic that Elia, one of the only WOC in the show, fridged, brutally raped and murdered in a chain of events started by Rhaegar, never showed up on the screen. Nor did her three kids. They all died horrifically just so Lyanna’s rape and death could be “romantic” and she could give birth to Westeros’s white king. D&D don’t care about Lyanna besides her uterus and they certainly don’t care about Elia. She was barely a character in the books, but at least her death meant something. The show stripped away even that from her. Elia’s death was so damaging to the entire realm, of course, but especially to Dorne. Her murder and that of her kids was the ultimate disrespect and objectification. She is the reason why the current Martells are so bitter toward the Lannisters, why the tensions are SO high, and their anger is something the Lannisters will have to contend with in future books. D&D think something through logically challenge.

[altiushospital]

Laparoscopic Treatment in Bangalore

Urinary incontinence is the programmed spillage of pee. It infers a man pees when they would lean toward not to. Direction over the urinary sphincter is either lost or crippled.

What is urinary incontinence?

Urinary incontinence is an ordinary issue that impacts various people.

As shown by the American Urological Association, one-quarter to 33% of individuals in the United States experience urinary incontinence.

Urinary incontinence is more commonplace among women than men. A normal 30 percent of females developed 30-60 are idea to encounter its evil impacts, stood out from 1.5-5 percent of men.

Urinary incontinence is the time when a man can't shield pee from spilling out.

It might be a result of pressure factors, for instance, hacking, it can happen in the midst of and after pregnancy, and it is progressively ordinary with conditions, for instance, forcefulness.

Its chances happening addition with age.

Bladder control and pelvic floor, or Kegel, exercises can help keep away from or decrease it.

Treatment:

Treatment will depend upon a couple of parts, for instance, the kind of incontinence, the patient's age, general prosperity, and their mental state.

Stress incontinence:

Pelvic floor works out, generally got Kegel works out, help strengthen the urinary sphincter and pelvic floor muscles - the muscles that help control pee.

Bladder getting ready:

Delaying the event: The fact of the matter is to control energize. The patient makes sense of how to defer pee at whatever point there is a longing to do in that capacity.

Twofold voiding: This incorporates peeing, by then sitting tight for a couple of minutes, by then peeing again.

Can timetable: The individual date-books bathroom at set events in the midst of the day, for example, similar to perfect timing.

Bladder getting ready helps the patient well ordered recover specialist over their bladder.

Medicinal methodology:

The medicinal methodology is a decision if various medications don't work. Women who mean to have adolescents should look at cautious options with a pro before settling on the decision.

Sling systems: A work is implanted under the neck of the bladder to help reinforce the urethra and keep pee from spilling out.

Colposuspension:

Lifting the bladder neck can help reduce weight incontinence.

Fake sphincter: A phony sphincter, or valve, may be inserted to control the surge of pee from the bladder into the urethra.

Various decisions:

Urinary Catheter: A chamber that goes from the bladder, through the urethra, out of the body into a sack which assembles pee.

Retentive pads: A broad assortment of porous pads is open to purchase at medication stores and markets and also on the web.

Brisk assurances on urinary incontinence:

Here are some key spotlights on urinary incontinence. More detail is in the principal article.

Urinary incontinence is more ordinary in females than in folks.

There are different reasons why urinary incontinence can occur.

Heaviness and smoking are both danger factors for urinary incontinence.

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[tmitransitioning]

How come animals do just fine without their gonads (like dogs and cats that have been spayed/neutered) but humans have to have something putting testosterone or estrogen into their bodies?

Animals don’t always do just fine without their gonads, we just accept the risks of altered pets as being outweighed by the benefits. There’s some research indicating that early neutering may affect the incidence of joint disorders, for example. This is why a lot of dog owners will choose not to neuter until their dogs have reached full physiological maturity.

Don’t mistake this for an anti-neutering argument—please neuter your pets. It decreases the risk of some cancers, helps control population, and has behaviour effects that make pets a lot more comfortable in human-controlled environments.

The difference between pets and humans is that we control a lot of their health where we cannot control their own; if we had superhumans paying for all our healthcare and investing enormous amounts of time and effort into keeping us comfortable, maybe it would be more common for us to have our gonads removed. But our healthcare is a lot more expensive than that of pets (in most cases), and we live for a lot longer, and in many places there is not a cultural expectation that we sterilize ourselves if we don’t intend to reproduce. (I specify many because, in some countries, that’s still a requirement for trans people who want to change their legal gender markers.)

- Mod Wolf*special interest activation noise*Short answer, while cats and dogs and other animals tend to share a basic biological blueprint with humans, we are often very different in weird ways.

Long answer…A lot of it has to do with risk assessment. Many companion animals have all kinds of expensive, painful, potentially fatal conditions that have a much higher chance of arising if their gonads and/or other sex organs (particularly the uterus) are left intact. While there are some conditions that are more likely to occur in desexed animals, they often have a lower likelihood of occurrence and/or are more treatable. Desexing is also hugely important for population control of companion animals, and can prevent behaviors that may make companion animals stressed out and/or harder to live with (animals who want to mate will do really risky things in order to gain access to potential mates, like run outside and get lost because they smelled a Sexy Lady Cat). @drferox​ has an excellent post going over the currently known health effects of desexing methods for dogs.

(Fun aside, you pretty much HAVE to desex female ferrets if you don’t plan to breed them, because they will go into heat and NOT COME OUT OF IT until they are bred, and if their heat lasts too long they will die. So. Yeah. Weird biological differences between humans and animals, yay!) 

 There is some debate, as brought up in Dr. Ferox’s post, about WHEN to desex animals - some ferret keepers think that the prevalence of adrenal disease in ferrets that come from Marshall’s (a corporate ferret breeder in the United States, also FUCKING EVIL) is due not only to the heavy inbreeding and resulting limited gene pool, but to being desexed too early. Some dog keepers think larger dog breeds should not be desexed until they reach skeletal maturity. We don’t know a ton about ideal age for desexing right now, because it’s only just starting to be widely investigated. But this is not about whether it is generally better to desex animals or not - it’s about when to, as Dr. Ferox talks about in a followup post.

Humans don’t have to have something putting hormones in their bodies, but there are health risks associated with not having those hormones that are better-documented and riskier than those seen in companion animals. Of course, there are also health risks associated with HAVING those hormones, especially in the case of older people who have undergone a natural drop in hormone levels. Here’s a Mayo Clinic article on post-menopausal estrogen treatment risks (which should not be taken as equivalent to an article on estrogen-based HRT for trans folks, because different things are going on in the body.) It’s just that many of the common complications associated with intact gonads and sex organs in companion animals are much rarer or just don’t happen in humans (human incidence of pyometra, for example, is significantly lower than canine incidence of pyometra, and humans don’t do that weird ferret thing.)

Another huge part of it, as referenced above, is the sheer biological difference. Many companion animals go into heat, which is a process involving dramatic hormonal and behavioral shifts. While humans have different periods of fertility, our mating cycles aren’t quite as dramatic and don’t put the same kinds of stressors on the body. Our hormones affect us differently. I also don’t think it’s a fair assumption to make that all animals function fine without sex hormones and gonads - companion animals do, but that’s hardly the entire range of animal diversity, and if we’re specifically looking at comparing human responses to the responses of other animals I’d be more curious to see if primates such as chimpanzees and bonobos can suffer similar ill effects from not having sex hormones or gonads.

Humans can function without gonads or estrogen or testosterone, and many do -it’s a natural part of the human lifecycle to undergo a drop in those hormones as we age, and there are people who have had their gonads removed and don’t go on hormone therapy, and people who go on blockers without additional hormones. It’s just harder to make a sweeping judgement about the risks and benefits of sex hormone suppression in humans versus companion animals, and must be done more on a case-by-case basis, which is why we recommend anyone trying to lower rather than replace their hormones do their research on the risks and do so under the care of a competent and knowledgeable doctor.

- Mod Rabbit