I’m reposting this story because it illustrates a number of
laws in Kansas (and .other states) that seek to punish parents for violating
puritanical drug and alcohol laws. Such laws have resulted in parents losing
children and families being broken up. In Kansas many parents are taken from
their children for using, possessing or selling drugs. Most parents who lose
their children for selling drugs are petty drug dealers selling very small
amounts or selling or sharing the cost of drugs with friends to get the drugs
cheaper. Often these are the sole criteria to remove children. I believe taking
children away from a parent punishes the child as much as the parent. Some
parents have lost their children for alcohol use or alcohol related crimes,
such as certain drunk driving offenses. Using drug and alcohol use alone for
removing children from a parent’s home is both unnecessary and mean spirited.
This article is different because it focuses on a pregnant woman’s rights. The
same type of mean-spirited puritanical laws seems to be used against pregnant
women and Rinker is focusing on that.
I can relate to Rinker because I have had
problems over the last 8 years with alcohol and a few bad drug habits. -សតិវ អតុ
From Reality Check;
Lately there have been several stories in the media
about women losing their civil and constitutional rights while pregnant. I’m
not referring to abortion, which is often in the news thanks to unrelenting anti-choice attacks andunnecessary regulations.
In this case, I’m talking about coverage of arrests, incarcerations, and detentions of pregnant women in
the name of “fetal rights”—cases in which women who want to carry
their pregnancies to term are accused of providing (or potentially providing)
an unsafe or toxic environment to their fetuses. Some of the cases involve
women who have admitted to using illegal substances prior to their pregnancy or
to their knowledge of the pregnancy.
As a woman and a feminist, my belief about my personal
autonomy in medical decision making applies to my right to keep or end
my pregnancy. Part of that right includes making my own health decisions during
that pregnancy: what to eat, whether to exercise and take prenatal vitamins,
whether to smoke, drink, or do drugs. I believe these decisions must be mine to
make in consultation with my doctor.
To my knowledge there are no cases of diabetics being
detained by authorities for eating a candy bar; cancer patients are not
shackled if they light up a cigarette and inhale. So why are pregnant women who
use drugs or have a history of drug use being arrested and forced into treatment? It comes as a
result of gross overreaching by those in authority—a breach of trust in our
medical relationships and false, ideologically motivated interpretations of a
plethora of anti-choice laws that have served as vehicles for the deterioration
of women’s civil rights.
I
am a recovering addict and alcoholic. My journey includes a pregnancy in the
midst of my addiction; as was the case with many aspects of my life during my
active addiction, my pregnancy was unplanned. As I hear these stories of other
pregnant women, I cannot help but identify with them.
I
hate to feed into the anti-choice perception that all pregnant women are
vulnerable and afraid, but I will admit that I did feel very vulnerable and
very afraid in my pregnancy. That fear was fed heartily by my addiction. I had
never really considered having a child. The pill had enabled me to avoid an
unexpected pregnancy since I started having sex in my teens, but at 26 my
addictions and my irresponsible, reckless, impulsive behaviors were catching up
with me. When you’re fortunate if you remember to eat one meal a day, it’s also
easy to forget to renew your birth control prescription. That was just another
detail among the many in life that seemingly had ceased to have consequences or
meaning.
I
had gotten pregnant by my boyfriend of two years and he wanted to see the
pregnancy through, though I was much less certain. Before I really had time to
process these life-changing events, he was proudly spreading the news to
friends and neighbors. I was the pregnant girlfriend by his side, feeling as if
I was living the whole thing out in some kind of coma and unable to communicate
my most primal fear about the pregnancy to anyone: I was terrified of its
implications on my drug and alcohol dependency.
Mind-altering,
soul-altering, confidence-boosting, medicating substances had been a part of my
life since age 14. I felt addicted to everything I ever tried since the first
time I tried it. These things made me feel better than I ever felt without
them. After all those years, the thought of removing them from my daily routine
was unfathomable.
I
put one foot in front of the other and did what I was expected to do as a
pregnant person, lacking the enthusiasm expected by society and everyone around
me. This included my first prenatal visit. In spite of my lack of confidence in
my sobriety, I shared my drug history with the doctor, including the fact that
the pregnancy was conceived in the midst of heavy methamphetamine use.
As
I talked, I felt hopeful for the first time in my pregnancy experience. I
thought this medical professional would provide me with reassurance, help me
survive my pregnancy, and assist me in staying sober. But my faith in the
integrity of the physician soon shattered. As I continued with the details of
my drug and alcohol use, her demeanor turned from trusted professional to
judgmental, angry authority figure. She stopped focusing on her clipboard, and
her tone became harsh as she peppered me with questions about my drug use.
When
it was time for my pelvic exam, as I lay on my back with my feet propped in
stirrups, the doctor informed me that my fetus would be “destroyed” if I
continued to use cocaine or meth. She said my fetus would suffer unimaginably
and that I would be to blame.
Kansas is one of five states that
requires physicians to inform pregnant women of the negative effects of drug
use. But while the doctor was fulfilling her obligation, she could have done so
in a kind and rational way. Instead, she chose to make me feel like a criminal.
After
the examination, I was sent to the bathroom to take a drug urinalysis. It felt
like an intimidation device: I had already been honest about my use of drugs,
so why was a test required?
For
the rest click here.
Pix by Food Maters
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