Supermarkets and Birth Control

     A birth control law passed in my native state of California was supposed to be ground-breaking and, while it was, it's been slow to come to fruition. Quelle surprise, right? Women should have easier access to fill their BC prescriptions by taking them to a pharmacy, but this has proven to be a lot more challenging than it should be.

     On this blog post, I'll be referring to this Los Angeles Times article that presents the delays that women still face in accessing BC despite the new law. The law doesn't require pharmacies to provide BC through the new law, and many aren't sure that they ever will, but it would make things a lot easier for women, that's for sure. The reluctance of some pharmacies is "in part because it could take up to an hour to complete the process for dispensing contraception to women. They must take the patient's blood pressure, administer a questionnaire about health issues that could raise red flags and go over side effects." (1)

          1) Taking time to check-in on a woman's health is somehow more burdensome than
              unwanted pregnancies?
          2) And while they should, I have never had a pharmacist go over side effects with me. They
              tell me to hit "yes" on the prompt that they went over the side effects with me and then I
              sign my name attesting that this actually happened. Yes, we're both liars.

     Nihar Mandavia, pharmacist and owner of Drugist Pharmacy in Laguna Niguel, has the right idea. He "doesn't think the extra time spent with patients will be a burden for his staff...[helping] customers with such services [like consultation] can give independent pharmacies like his an edge over big chains." (2) Go Mandavia. If I could afford Laguna Niguel and used BC, I would be your customer. If I owned a pharmacy, I'd be your competitor.

     The real problem, though, could be the actual consultation. BC is covered by the Affordable Care Act, but not the consultation itself, and it's unclear whether private insurance companies would, or will, cover it. The price of the consultation seems to be somewhere in the $40-$50 range and could prevent those who don't have the money to go to the doctor's to seek out BC. (Although to THAT I would say, Go to Planned Parenthood.) Despite this, though, it's good to know that starting in January, the state's health insurance, Medi-Cal, will begin covering any consultation fees. Hooray! And the other good news is that under another law passed this year in CA, women will be able to get a year's supply of BC at once instead of having to go each month (or in the case of Planned Parenthood, every 3 months). Double hooray!

     Currently, these supermarkets' pharmacies will fill your BC:

                    - Albertsons
                    - Vons
                    - Vons Pavilions
                    - Safeway

     A statewide pilot program is under way with

                    - CVS (5 in LA; locations weren't listed)

     Still ironing out details:

                    - Walgreens
                    - Ralphs

     Hopefully we can get more insurance coverage and women don't have to hide or go on a senseless, time-consuming hunt just for wanting to take control of their health and life.

1. Karlamangla, Soumya (2016, October 31). Women still face delays Los Angeles Times, B5.
2. Karlamangla, Soumya (2016, October 31). Women still face delays Los Angeles Times, B5.

   

My Lithuanian American Experience 

and the NY Bombing Suspect, Ahman Rahami

       This is in response to Sunday’s LA Time’s article about the arrest of Ahmad Khan Rahami, the NY bombing suspect. I feel I am in a unique position to offer some insight from the side of immigrants as well as from the children who grew up in the US or who were born here to immigrant parents. I am a second-generation Lithuanian (on my mother’s side) born in the US who grew up in the Lithuanian community. I grew up with stories of my grandparents fleeing Lithuania during WWII where their families were torn apart and plagued by atrocities conducted by Stalin and the communists, and yet somehow found ways to laugh and sing.

I grew up with a mother whose entire childhood was dominated by the Lithuanian language and Lithuanian-oriented activities. But, her childhood and early adult years were also sprinkled with Elvis, the Beatles, JFK, free love, Martin Luther King, and the Vietnam War. Despite my grandparents’ belief that one day they would all return to a free Lithuania, my mom would never be a Lithuanian from Lithuania like they. Even the way the language was spoken by my mom (and later us) would be different from those who were born and raised in Lithuania.

My mother was a single-mom (my father was not Lithuanian) and she raised me and my sister in a Lithuanian household and we attended Lithuanian Saturday school. We lived and breathed Lithuanian scouts and camps, danced in festivals across the nation, and always lived a dual life: one with our non-Lithuanian friends and one with. I am now doing the same with my own daughters which is only possible with the 100% support of my non-Lithuanian husband. However, I have always considered myself to be an American who happens to speak another language which happens to be Lithuanian.

My mother’s upbringing and world was dual as well. This alone separated her from her parents immensely, and it was something with which EVERY immigrant family grapples. My grandparents learned enough English to get by, but there was no way they could connect and identify with the world in which my mother was growing up. This is, of course, natural between parents and their children, but it is especially underscored within immigrant families and particularly when looking at cultural differences. My husband, for example, an avid Beatles fan, could introduce their music to our older daughter and my mother-in-law could provide living history of what it was like to hear their music live for the first time on the Ed Sullivan Show. My mother would never have been able to share something prominent like that with her parents. She would have no connection to the music giants (mainly composers) of Lithuania during my grandparents’ coming of age days and they would have no connection to the music that my mom would have been listening to as a teenager. There could maybe be an intellectual understanding on my mother’s part, at least later in life, but there would be no connection to the day-to-day. Also, on a more personal note, my mom had trouble connecting to my total immersion of pop culture as a teen. While her world was split 50-50, American (pop culture) influences were much more a part of my life than hers. And I may not “get” my daughters’ eventual pop cultural references and influences, but I will understand them better than my mom with me or her mother with her.

What I find so many immigrant families doing, including my own, is coming to the US with the expectation that their lives will continue to be the same here as in their home country. I can understand the reason for this. There’s nothing else but their home country that they have to compare to. Yet, this is simply not the case. America is made up of so many fabrics which is what makes her so beautiful.

The Rahami family came to the US under political asylum and opened up a restaurant with the name First American Fried Chicken as a tribute to the United States. This shows gratitude and appreciation, for sure. But when Ahmad Rahami began a relationship in high school with a Dominican girl, Maria, his father, Mohammad, didn’t approve. He felt that the relationship with the girl was a disturbing influence of American culture. He ordered his son to travel to Afghanistan and Pakistan, and it was after these trips people noticed a change in Ahmad and that he became more serious about his religion. There is nothing inherently wrong with getting more serious about one’s religion, but I, personally, get uncomfortable when it is forced. And it feels like Mr. Rahami forced his son to fit a mold that only he saw fit.

“Born in Afghanistan in 1988, Ahmad had come to the US as a small child and rapidly inhaled American culture. [He] developed a passion for rap music, souped up cars and motorcycles…[and] favored tight jeans and fashionable t-shirts.” [1] Now, imagine growing up in one country and then being forced to go back to a country where the only connection you have to it is through your parents who themselves have not lived there for over 15 years. A lot can change in 15 years.

It was when Ahmad was 19 that he and Maria had a baby girl and his father refused to see the baby. Eventually, Maria broke it off with Ahmad and his heart broke. After the break-up, his relationship with his father was strained which isn’t surprising. Ahmad may have put himself in his father’s mold, but he is still a product of the influences that he experienced growing up in America, not Afghanistan. He was put in a position to deny who he was and what he wanted.

At the heart of all of this, is the failure on the part of the father (and maybe both parents) to acknowledge that the US is not Afghanistan. By bringing a family here, there are only so many rituals and traditions that one will be able to hold on to. The children who grow up in the US will have a different set of influence which will make their journey quite different from the one they would’ve had in their home country. This lack of acceptance on the part of the Rahami family has caused a town in New Jersey to fracture, a little girl to lose her father, a man to probably spend most of his life in an American jail, and a family torn apart. A family that probably left Afghanistan in the hope of escaping sadness and despair.

Keeping one’s culture alive is important. I am living proof of this. But it’s important to understand that culture is fluid, even within one's own culture. My daughters will not grow up with the exact same Lithuanian (American) culture as I did, and that’s OK because it is a different set of influences that surrounds them making their journey a different from the one I had. This will only help mold and shape them into the human beings they are meant to be.

1. Demick, Barbara (2016, September 25). Tolerance obscured imminent tragedy. Los Angeles Times, p. A12.

Reproductive Remorse

So you’re a mom with reproductive remorse. Interesting. A mom who wishes she never had her kids. Ok. It’s, “I love my kids, but…”  

Not that I want to invalidate someone’s feelings, but, after reading articles such as this, I urge the women who feel reproductive remorse to give a different set of reasons since the ones I’ve read are disingenuous.

One of the top reasons for regretting having had kids is Time — wishing for more of it, wishing for “free time,” “me time,” and “us time.” I don’t know how this is unique to people with kids, but let me try to break it down a bit. My husband and I had kids later in life, but I don’t remember the last time I had “free time” or “me time.” My schedule always consisted of waking up early and hitting the gym, putting in a full day’s work, coming home, making dinner, cleaning up, getting some writing done and at some point sitting down to watch TV. My schedule with two kids is not that different except for working out, which I hope to resume in the near future. And whatever “free time” I had before kids was usually unfocused and stressed because in the back of my mind I was thinking about all the practical things that needed to get done.

So, what is “free time, really”? I think I was in my 20’s the last time I had genuine, real “free time” in which I could take two hours to write in my journal, or hang out with friends on a whim without worrying too much about bills or meeting deadlines. As for “us time,” it was, of course, a little easier before kids, but it certainly hasn’t gone away. My husband and I were both movie buffs who stopped going to movies regularly eons ago because it got too annoying to deal with crowds and obnoxious people on their cell phones. It also got frustrating to sacrifice a decent dinner just to catch the one movie that would let out early enough for us to face our responsibilities the next morning (and I’m including weekends here). Going out to a dinner for two was a lot more fun in our 20’s when we didn’t pay attention to crowds, and going out with large groups of friends was actually never much fun because we got tired of paying $70 for $20 worth of food. As a result, we have found other ways to have “us time” from enjoying TV shows together to going wine tasting to finding ourselves on the couch talking and laughing.

As for “me time,” I believe we have it all the time. Maybe just not the way we want. When I was in college and making $4.25 an hour, my “me time” included having lunch, going to a movie for $4 about 3 times a week, buying snacks and still having money left over to buy whatever CD or book I’d want at Barnes & Noble. When I finally got a professional job, years before kids, I didn’t have the time to go see a movie once a week, much less three. And if I did, I wouldn’t be able to see a movie, buy snacks, and have money left over, that’s for sure. And why is that? Because things change. 

When I turned 30, I became serious about my creative pursuits, so my “me time” became creative time whether it was writing or working on film projects. In my first trimester with my first daughter, I was depressed because I thought that any time I had for my creative pursuits would disappear. I ended up being more creative and more focused in her first two years of life than I was in my previous thirty-five (and I continue to be so). What changed was valuing the “me time” I could find, not squandering it, and not thinking about what else I could be doing. Like with anything, it’s about choices.

I also don’t think it’s genuine when someone says you can have kids and say you love them, yet wish you never had them. What that telegraphs is, “I love you, child, but only because you’re here and it is expected of me.” Who wants to feel that? If you truly wish you didn’t have kids, then let them go. Give them up so that they’re with someone who does want them, because not feeling wanted is one of the worst feelings one can feel especially from one’s own biological parent. Susan Forward, Ph.D., author of Mothers Who Can’t Love, A Healing Guide for Daughters, wrote: “There’s a shame around [being unloved by your mother], like there’s something wrong with you. If I wasn’t loved maybe I wasn’t lovable.” [1] There’s so much pain that surrounds us that children really must feel safe with their parent(s). You can’t be half in and half out. What happens to a marriage or any relationship with that attitude? Exactly.

In addition, life is too short to live in resentment, and if all you’re doing is waiting for the kids to turn 18 so they can legally leave the house, then you’ve closed yourself off from any lesson they could possibly teach you. I personally can admit that I would not have been a very good mother in my 20’s or early 30’s. And because I *knew* this, I did what I had to do to avoid becoming one. This is a very different sentiment from reproductive remorse. Whatever the reason a woman ends up having children, the consequences of making that decision shouldn’t be taken out on the child. However, this does prompt a larger discussion about the pressures put on women to have children, but that is another subject entirely. [2]

Recently, I read a complaint from a woman who was tired of having to look for a babysitter when going out. Really? That’s a reason you wish you didn’t have kids? This mom and her husband must have had the energy to go out every single night of the week before kids, and now they find it annoying and exhausting to find a babysitter. Most parents I know have a few babysitters on hand and make plans ahead of time. I would make plans ahead of time with friends when I was a teenager! And though nightlife may seem exhausting because of the kids, I discovered two years before our first child — while on my feet at a general-admission Nine Inch Nails show — that I could no longer stay up past 11pm anyway… which brings me to my last point.

The biggest reason for reproductive remorse is the wish for the life one had before kids. This irks me the most. How can you expect to have the life of a twenty-something in your 30’s or 40’s or beyond? None of us wants to get older. We all wish we were still in our 20’s, before the realities of a job started wearing us down, before the anxieties of bills and a mortgage, before the challenges of raising children. I’m a stay-at-home mom and I’ve had countless moments when I wished I had an office door I could shut in order to escape for a few moments. But not once have I wished that my two daughters were out of my life, even in the most difficult moments — and this is coming from someone who for 32 years was vehemently against having kids. I hope that those who wish they never had kids find some peace in their heart, because life should be made of up moments that make you want more, not less.

1. Shouse, Amy. My Mom Didn’t Want to Be a Mother. Dame Magazine, http://www.damemagazine.com/2015/05/07/my-mom-didnt-want-be-mother. Accessed 5 Sep. 2016. 

2.  Excellent article about this topic. http://jezebel.com/we-need-to-talk-about-women-who-regret-motherhood-1635470629