When politics of smugness try to creep into my uterus

I never, ever thought I'd say this, but Rick Santorum has been on my mind recently.

(Yes, I still think he's the Devil. And if you haven't ever googled Santorum, please do so. It's kind of a delight.)

So, during the 20-week sonogram on Friday, one of the things the technician pointed out was that the baby had her hand open flat, and she said that if she had Trisomy 18, she wouldn't be able to do so - her hands would be clenched. Now, we had the amnio, so we knew already, but I found it interesting.

There is all this news about Rick Santorum and should he be campaigning when he has this critically ill daughter with Trisomy 18. She's three, and needs 24/7 care, for which his wife quit her job.

Presumably, they have good health care, the Santori, because the fraction of babies diagnosed with the disorder who live much past birth require astounding amounts of medical intervention and care. So the choice they made - to have the child - is manageable from a health-care perspective. And presumably they make enough, even with eight kids, that his wife was able to make the choice stay home.

But it underlines for me that it needs to be a fucking choice. And this man who lives with a child who suffers, perhaps daily, who knows how much money and work a special needs kid requires, wants to take the choice away.

Oh, and isn't interested in health care for all. Devil ass douchebag fuck.

And I feel like people like this are always so fucking smug about it.

I don't know if you remember back a number of months when I wanted to rear-end that anti-choice minivan and wrote that mind your own uterus post?

Yah, so, now I'm almost 20 weeks pregnant. Last week I spent over an hour looking at my daughter-to-be flipping around on the sonogram monitor. When you watch what's going on in your uterus, it's extraordinary what a little human being it looks like is bopping around in there.

I came into the office after my sonogram appointment on Friday. I showed some of my colleagues the strip of pictures.

We were talking about how extraordinary it is that at 19 weeks of development - which is actually just 17 weeks, because the first two really don't count - you have this little human with all her organs and bones and what-have-yous.

One colleague, who is Catholic, pointed to the strip and said, "And this is why I just don't understand people who believe that life begins at birth."

Comments like that make my hair stand on end. I'm pretty sure I physically backed up. I don't know when I think life begins, but I know for a fact that at this stage, one of us can breathe on her own, and one of us can't.

I said, "Listen, you're talking to someone who is relentlessly pro-choice."

I think it's miraculous, I do. And I want this baby so badly. I worked hard to get her, and I try not to fret about losing her. I'm so thankful that our tests showed she was healthy.

But people need to have the choice.

Our other colleague, who pointed out that she is also Catholic, said she is pro-choice as well.

So the first woman said, "Well, if there were something wrong with your baby, I would still pray for her."

I believe she meant it kindly. I do. I smiled, but I couldn't really respond.

Because like boats against the current, my refrain is always: mind your own fucking uterus.