Me, My Religion, and Healthcare

I promised myself – and you, dear readers – that I would not address my political beliefs in this blog.  Still, the passage of the Healthcare bill recently is too momentous not to comment on.  That said, there is a way around my self-imposed prohibition: a separate blog.

So, if you find yourself curious about me, my religious beliefs, or my stance on Healthcare Reform, I invite you to follow this link (Note: the link has been removed for privacy reasons.  If you’re interested in reading my thoughts on this topic, leave a comment on this post and I can pass you the link personally, but for now I’ve decided to keep this generally a little more private going forward.).  It is a deeply personal (and lengthy) essay on the topic that addresses several points that will be of most interest to those who share my religion but not my politics.  This may be the last and only time I ever link my other blog here.  Regardless of your political persuasion, I hope you’ll stick with me on my writing and living journey.

A caveat: if you do follow that link, I ask you to read only the post in the link, for now.  I started this separate blog as a place for me to express my political opinions without fear of reprisal.  That being the case, I occassionally paint with a very broad, and potentially offensive brush, depending which side of the aisle, if any, you ascribe to.  I expain my reasoning for shifting course on that and creating this post there, but posts on that blog prior to today’s don’t adhere to my personal standard of professional and courteous writing.  Ergo: caveat emptor.

The Further Education of a Parent-to-be

On Saturday there was another class for parents-to-be, this one on Newborn care.  Most of it was about basic parenting skills – stuff like bathing the baby and changing the diaper – especially as they relate to newborns.  The beginning of the class was all about the freaky stuff you’ll see immediately upon the birth of the baby, like the white stuff that will cover the baby upon birth (called Vernix, if I recall correctly), or the fact that the baby will be born with a conehead (but will not, ostensibly, come from France), due to the flexible, not-yet-fused skull bones conforming to the shape of the birth canal.  As the class went on, we learned about the umbilical chord (and a fascinating fact about innies versus outies: it’s genetically predetermined by the body’s own dividing line between where the baby ends and the umbilical chord starts; in the pictures, there’s a phyiscal line you can see).

The upshot of all this is it put me in a state of mind that I’m just a little better prepared for the delivery room.  Dear Wife and I had already decided that I’d be cutting B.T.’s chord, but I’ll admit I’ve been squeamish about it ever since.  Seeing in some of those newborn baby pictures that the chord is a thing, and not a part of someone makes it a lot easier, mentally.  I had anticipated it looking a lot more like, well, something covered in skin (like a person) or a giant blood vessel (pulsing with blood of course), or something else horror-movie-riffic. 

And that, my friends, is your daily dose of T.M.I.