Today Oklahoma's new anti-abortion law was temporarily blocked while it is reviewed for constitutionality. In my view, the law is a good one and will be allowed to stand. The Center for Reproductive Rights is arguing to have it struck down. It stands to cut into their profits as abortionists. The Oklahoma law seems to be the bridge that has been needed for a long time. While many people nation-wide are reluctant to completely disallow abortion in favor of maternal right to choose, this law allows the mother to choose, with a caveat.
Before undergoing an abortion, under this new law, a mother would have to have an ultrasound, see the beating heart, and hear about the stage of development of her child. She should know this before terminating a pregnancy. It's a medical fact and shouldn't we all be informed before any surgical procedure?
While this new law is among the strictest in the nation, it makes the most sense. In counseling women who were post-abortion, I have heard many times, "I had no idea what I had done until I got pregnant again. I didn't know that the heart was beating in the first trimester. I didn't know that the baby was fully formed. What did I do?". In abortion, there is as much psychological damage as physical damage -- sometimes more. So making sure that women know what they are doing seems prudent and is in keeping with the overall care of the mother.
When a woman undergoes any medical procedure, her physician is required to describe the procedure and the risks to her. Why should abortion be any different? It's different because given the information and viewing an ultrasound would likely change the minds of many who are considering abortion. This would put a big kink in the budgets of family planning clinics around the country. Some people couldn't afford the new cars and perks. Abortion is big business and big profit. It's less about womens rights and more about selling them the alternative -- an alternative that means some people get wealthy from others' mistakes. Planned Parenthood and The Center for Reproductive Rights have a lot to lose. They're defending their way of life. Now there is an irony.
Showing posts with label fetal ultrasound. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fetal ultrasound. Show all posts
Monday, May 3, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Adoption Issues - And The Research Shows....
Economists from the California Institute of Technology (CalTech), the London School of Economics, and New York University have conducted a formal study and have discovered what those of us in the adoption field have known for years. It's nice to know that our suspicions are validated! The researchers, in a study that lasted over a five year period, found that the study revealed several distinct patterns.
First, Non-African-American babies are seven times more likely to attract the interest of an American adoptive parent than an African-American baby. Second, female children are more attractive to adoptive parents overall than male children, by more than 33%. Thirdly, gestation comes into play. The interest of an adoptive family will increase with the length of gestation. In other words, children are more desirable if they are due immediately versus earlier in the pregnancy. The desirability of a child decreases after they are born and continues to decrease.
Anyone who works in the field of adoption knows that there is greater demand for girls and that it's harder to place minority children. Ironically, many birth moms do not have ultrasounds prior to choosing a family, so often the gender is unknown at the time of the match. For those waiting for specific genders - always more families waiting for girls than boys - it can be difficult to match when the gender is known in only a small percentage when matching. Of course, many find out later on the gender of the baby they are carrying, particularly if pre-natal care is started later on in the pregnancy. That doesn't help us in the matching process!
I have my own theories, but I would love to know the reason(s)that girls are in higher demand than boys. If you thought about carrying the family name, the opposite should be true. However, that is not the case with adoption. Almost always if an adoptive family has a boy, if they have a preference for their second child, it is for a girl. On the other hand, many adoptive families who have a girl want another girl, rather than a boy. The "ideal" family used to be described as Mom, Dad, a boy and a girl. Not so much these days.
The studies have shown that American parents pursuing adoption tend to avoid taking African-American babies and boys. When ultrasounds are done, boys are more easily identified (sometimes it's not easy to identify whether the child is a girl or a boy with undescended testes), so we see more identified boys or unidentified gender babies even when ultrasounds have been done. More irony - there is a higher demand for girls, but it's easier to identify boys. On top of that, more boys are being placed than girls and perhaps that equates to more boys being born than girls, since much of the time birth moms make the choice to make an adoption plan before they know the gender. An old wives tale says that "In a time of war, more baby boys are born to replace those males lost in battle". While we can wonder how Mother Nature would know that, it seems to ring true if you look at the birth rates. So we have more baby boys and minority babies, while the demand is for the opposite.
So, hats off to the researchers who found this phenomenon to be true. I'm going to e-mail them and ask why it's true! For those who are waiting for a specific gender baby, particularly girls, -- this is why it takes more time to find them.
First, Non-African-American babies are seven times more likely to attract the interest of an American adoptive parent than an African-American baby. Second, female children are more attractive to adoptive parents overall than male children, by more than 33%. Thirdly, gestation comes into play. The interest of an adoptive family will increase with the length of gestation. In other words, children are more desirable if they are due immediately versus earlier in the pregnancy. The desirability of a child decreases after they are born and continues to decrease.
Anyone who works in the field of adoption knows that there is greater demand for girls and that it's harder to place minority children. Ironically, many birth moms do not have ultrasounds prior to choosing a family, so often the gender is unknown at the time of the match. For those waiting for specific genders - always more families waiting for girls than boys - it can be difficult to match when the gender is known in only a small percentage when matching. Of course, many find out later on the gender of the baby they are carrying, particularly if pre-natal care is started later on in the pregnancy. That doesn't help us in the matching process!
I have my own theories, but I would love to know the reason(s)that girls are in higher demand than boys. If you thought about carrying the family name, the opposite should be true. However, that is not the case with adoption. Almost always if an adoptive family has a boy, if they have a preference for their second child, it is for a girl. On the other hand, many adoptive families who have a girl want another girl, rather than a boy. The "ideal" family used to be described as Mom, Dad, a boy and a girl. Not so much these days.
The studies have shown that American parents pursuing adoption tend to avoid taking African-American babies and boys. When ultrasounds are done, boys are more easily identified (sometimes it's not easy to identify whether the child is a girl or a boy with undescended testes), so we see more identified boys or unidentified gender babies even when ultrasounds have been done. More irony - there is a higher demand for girls, but it's easier to identify boys. On top of that, more boys are being placed than girls and perhaps that equates to more boys being born than girls, since much of the time birth moms make the choice to make an adoption plan before they know the gender. An old wives tale says that "In a time of war, more baby boys are born to replace those males lost in battle". While we can wonder how Mother Nature would know that, it seems to ring true if you look at the birth rates. So we have more baby boys and minority babies, while the demand is for the opposite.
So, hats off to the researchers who found this phenomenon to be true. I'm going to e-mail them and ask why it's true! For those who are waiting for a specific gender baby, particularly girls, -- this is why it takes more time to find them.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Happy Birthday, Cody
This week the election has taken center stage and, for the first time in many years, perhaps because of the distraction, November 2nd came and went without too much sorrow. November 2nd, 1992 -- 16 years ago -- I lost my son. Cody Andrew came into this life and left it all in one fleeting moment. After having two healthy children, I had no reason to believe that my 23rd week pregnancy was anything but normal. One evening, I felt a lot of fetal movement -- really the first I had felt in the pregnancy -- and suddenly I was aware of the little life within me. I was happy and excited to go to my regularly scheduled pre-natal visit the next morning. It would be the day I would find out the gender of my child. I had a boy and a girl, so it didn't really matter, but I would be able to choose a name and think about all of the possibilities. My youngest had gone off to kindergarten and I was feeling the sting of an empty nest. I couldn't wait to have a new baby home to fill my days with the joy only a baby can bring.
When I arrived at the doctor's office, I was humming and reading the most recent Parent's Magazine. It was a beautiful day. I was called in and my doctor, a very sweet older gentleman, began the ultrasound -- the first I would have of this pregnancy. I could see the screen and wondered if I would be able to identify the gender without him telling me. As he scanned, he began to concentrate and focused on the screen, angling it back towards him. I was disappointed that I could no longer see what he was scanning. After a few moments, he stated, "I'm not seeing what I want to see, so we're going to switch from the doppler to the internal ultrasound". "Okay", I responded. Once he positioned the wand, he looked up and uttered the words that would keep echoing in my mind, "I'm so sorry, honey, but this baby doesn't have a heartbeat". At that moment, I think my own heart stopped. I felt frozen in time. I was there by myself.
I don't think I said much. I remember him hugging me and telling me he was so sorry. I got off the table and walked out of the building and across the street, passing my car in the parking lot, and heading for the hospital where I worked. I remember walking in front of a moving car and hearing the honk. I felt zombie-like. I walked in the front door and passed several people I knew who greeted me. It was all I could do to stay upright, so I said nothing as I proceeded down the hall to my unit -- Labor and Delivery. As I pushed the button that would open the double entry doors to the unit, I remember feeling like I was in a bad dream. I fell to my knees and I remember screaming. Someone said it sounded like a wounded animal, a primal scream.
All of the nurses working on the unit were my friends. They all came running and picked me up and took me to a labor room where they talked with me, sat with me, and prayed with me. One of my friends, a physician, came in and quietly explained that I would have to wait to go into labor and then deliver the baby. He knew I would likely at some point want to have another baby and didn't want to cause my cervix to become incompetent by forcing it open. Fetal demise happens occasionally, but late term fetal demise is not common. No one knows why he died. Perhaps a non-functioning placenta or an underdeveloped umbilical cord. I went home to wait. I can't explain what it does to you psychologically to carry around a dead baby. I was showing, so when I was out people I didn't know would come up and ask when I was due. Some would touch my belly. I knew I couldn't go into details without completely falling apart, so I would just give the due date and move on. It took a week before my body was ready to deliver Cody. I went into labor at 2:00 a.m. on November 2nd.
I went into the hospital and labored for something like 12 hours before he was born. So tiny he could fit in the palm of your hand, but the labor felt like a full term baby. My doctor asked if I wanted to have a D&C. I couldn't even conceive of it. I needed to see him, to hold him, and to bury him. I had quite a support system in my friends there. Sharon, Jana, Margie, and an angel on earth, Annie. They stayed with me, prayed with me, and helped me deliver Cody and say goodbye over the course of those 12 hours. He was tiny, but perfect with all of his parts intact. His skin was almost transparent, but his features were delicate and he looked peaceful.
I can't even say I regret the experience all of these years later. It was, of course, very traumatic, but Cody taught me more without ever walking on this earth than any other person, child or adult, friend or teacher, has taught me in my lifetime. I view his death as God's will. Cody fulfilled his mission here on earth. He taught me what it feels like to be a birth mother with empty arms. He taught me what it feels like to be unable to deliver a full-term healthy baby. He taught me about grief and how to deal with it. He taught me that you can't take life for granted. He taught me who my true friends were. He taught me that there were people in my life who weren't true friends. He taught me how to tell the difference. He taught me how precious life is and how sometimes we don't think about others who are grieving because we are caught up in our own lives. He taught me what is important and what is not. He taught me that we all have a purpose and how important it is to fulfill that purpose. In retrospect, he did everything he needed to do before he went to be with God.
After his funeral, when leaving the cemetery, I had a sudden urge to go back to the grave site. I knew it was time to go and it felt a little crazy asking my husband to turn the car around so I could go back. But the urge was so strong, I insisted. When we got back to the little clearing surrounded by woods where my parents are buried, I was stunned at what I saw. There, on top of Cody's newly dug grave, were a family of deer. A beautiful 8 point buck stood guard while an adult female munched on the fresh flowers atop my son's grave. At her feet was a tiny fawn, still not totally sure on his feet, gingerly nibbling on the flowers. It was a sight I'll never forget and, in case I do, I have pictures that I was able to snap. I saw that as a message from my family -- "Cody is fine here with us"...my mother and father had him safely within their arms. When my children asked me why Cody had to die, I told them "because Grandma and Grandpa needed to have a grand baby to love and hold in Heaven".
Cody will always be my son, just as surely as my children who have grown to adulthood. It was a privilege to have witnessed an angel taking flight. Happy Birthday, son.
When I arrived at the doctor's office, I was humming and reading the most recent Parent's Magazine. It was a beautiful day. I was called in and my doctor, a very sweet older gentleman, began the ultrasound -- the first I would have of this pregnancy. I could see the screen and wondered if I would be able to identify the gender without him telling me. As he scanned, he began to concentrate and focused on the screen, angling it back towards him. I was disappointed that I could no longer see what he was scanning. After a few moments, he stated, "I'm not seeing what I want to see, so we're going to switch from the doppler to the internal ultrasound". "Okay", I responded. Once he positioned the wand, he looked up and uttered the words that would keep echoing in my mind, "I'm so sorry, honey, but this baby doesn't have a heartbeat". At that moment, I think my own heart stopped. I felt frozen in time. I was there by myself.
I don't think I said much. I remember him hugging me and telling me he was so sorry. I got off the table and walked out of the building and across the street, passing my car in the parking lot, and heading for the hospital where I worked. I remember walking in front of a moving car and hearing the honk. I felt zombie-like. I walked in the front door and passed several people I knew who greeted me. It was all I could do to stay upright, so I said nothing as I proceeded down the hall to my unit -- Labor and Delivery. As I pushed the button that would open the double entry doors to the unit, I remember feeling like I was in a bad dream. I fell to my knees and I remember screaming. Someone said it sounded like a wounded animal, a primal scream.
All of the nurses working on the unit were my friends. They all came running and picked me up and took me to a labor room where they talked with me, sat with me, and prayed with me. One of my friends, a physician, came in and quietly explained that I would have to wait to go into labor and then deliver the baby. He knew I would likely at some point want to have another baby and didn't want to cause my cervix to become incompetent by forcing it open. Fetal demise happens occasionally, but late term fetal demise is not common. No one knows why he died. Perhaps a non-functioning placenta or an underdeveloped umbilical cord. I went home to wait. I can't explain what it does to you psychologically to carry around a dead baby. I was showing, so when I was out people I didn't know would come up and ask when I was due. Some would touch my belly. I knew I couldn't go into details without completely falling apart, so I would just give the due date and move on. It took a week before my body was ready to deliver Cody. I went into labor at 2:00 a.m. on November 2nd.
I went into the hospital and labored for something like 12 hours before he was born. So tiny he could fit in the palm of your hand, but the labor felt like a full term baby. My doctor asked if I wanted to have a D&C. I couldn't even conceive of it. I needed to see him, to hold him, and to bury him. I had quite a support system in my friends there. Sharon, Jana, Margie, and an angel on earth, Annie. They stayed with me, prayed with me, and helped me deliver Cody and say goodbye over the course of those 12 hours. He was tiny, but perfect with all of his parts intact. His skin was almost transparent, but his features were delicate and he looked peaceful.
I can't even say I regret the experience all of these years later. It was, of course, very traumatic, but Cody taught me more without ever walking on this earth than any other person, child or adult, friend or teacher, has taught me in my lifetime. I view his death as God's will. Cody fulfilled his mission here on earth. He taught me what it feels like to be a birth mother with empty arms. He taught me what it feels like to be unable to deliver a full-term healthy baby. He taught me about grief and how to deal with it. He taught me that you can't take life for granted. He taught me who my true friends were. He taught me that there were people in my life who weren't true friends. He taught me how to tell the difference. He taught me how precious life is and how sometimes we don't think about others who are grieving because we are caught up in our own lives. He taught me what is important and what is not. He taught me that we all have a purpose and how important it is to fulfill that purpose. In retrospect, he did everything he needed to do before he went to be with God.
After his funeral, when leaving the cemetery, I had a sudden urge to go back to the grave site. I knew it was time to go and it felt a little crazy asking my husband to turn the car around so I could go back. But the urge was so strong, I insisted. When we got back to the little clearing surrounded by woods where my parents are buried, I was stunned at what I saw. There, on top of Cody's newly dug grave, were a family of deer. A beautiful 8 point buck stood guard while an adult female munched on the fresh flowers atop my son's grave. At her feet was a tiny fawn, still not totally sure on his feet, gingerly nibbling on the flowers. It was a sight I'll never forget and, in case I do, I have pictures that I was able to snap. I saw that as a message from my family -- "Cody is fine here with us"...my mother and father had him safely within their arms. When my children asked me why Cody had to die, I told them "because Grandma and Grandpa needed to have a grand baby to love and hold in Heaven".
Cody will always be my son, just as surely as my children who have grown to adulthood. It was a privilege to have witnessed an angel taking flight. Happy Birthday, son.
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