Your cervix and the next recipients of the Super Bowl trophy will thank you

The U.S. Senate is currently considering S.1955, a measure that opponents are calling the "Lose Your Benefits" bill.  Formally and doublespeakfully titled the Health Insurance Marketplace Modernization and Affordability Act, this bill would allow insurance companies to flat-out ignore nearly all state laws that require coverage for certain conditions or treatments — you know, those little extras like cervical cancer screening, bone marrow transplants, alcoholism and drug abuse treatment, mental health services, breast reconstruction, minimum maternity stay, provision of diabetic supplies, inclusion of domestic partners in policy coverage, direct access to your OB-GYN, continuity of care during pregnancy, mammography, contraceptives, infertility diagnosis and treatment...

Now, this is the part where you're supposed to be hearing a needle dragging abruptly across a record, if you are old enough to remember records.  If you are not old enough to remember records, you are too young to be reading my blog, because I am about to filth it up good.

I'm sure the distinguished dingus who sponsored this bill, Senator Michael Enzi of Wyoming, is a perfectly nice man — he does, after all, like ice cream, fishing, and Wyoming's largest illegal grow op tomatoes — but his record on issues that matter to me is abysmal.  If you ask me, it sounds like Sen. Enzi (R., duh), deserves the colorectal screening of his ever-loving life.  As I am not a medical professional, I am unfamiliar with the instruments normally used in such a procedure, but, heck, I'm resourceful and could probably figure something out.

If Enzi's bill is passed into law, people in every state could lose health care benefits (PDF) that insurers are currently required by law to offer.  Whether you're fortunate enough to have state-mandated infertility coverage, or buying oral contraceptives for the cost of a reasonable co-pay, or contemplating a hospital stay to give birth, or, heck, just walking around, minding your own business, while your cervix quietly does its thing, take note.

And please take action.  Contact your senator and urge him or her to oppose S.1955.

Many thanks to art-sweet for the heads up and for a boilerplate letter you can copy and send.

News you can use while my ovaries snooze

Item: A team of Norwegian researchers has found that IVF may increase the risk of placenta previa.  Smaller studies have suggested a connection in the past; this is the largest such study to date.  From data on more than 845,000 pregnancies, researchers have suggested that undergoing IVF imparts three times the chance of misplacing the bloody thing.

Item: Senate bill 1955 has been defeated.  It failed to get cloture a couple of weeks ago.  Thanks to all who contacted your legislators, and a big sloppy wet kiss to Mike Enzi.  Love ya, babe.

Item: The "rhythm method," the only mode of contraception sanctioned by the Catholic church, may kill off more embryos than other methods of contraception.  In the Journal of Medical Ethics, a Professor Luc Bovens of the London School of Economics contends (PDF) that "the rhythm method may well be responsible for massive embryonic death, and the same logic that turned pro-lifers away from morning after pills, IUDs, and pill usage, should also make them nervous about the rhythm method."  Bovens suggests that the rhythm method, which involves having intercourse on the fringes of a woman's fertile period, can lead to the conception of embryos that are less likely to be viable.  A researcher at Cornell finds Bovens' theory intriguing: "It's quite plausible that more abnormal embryos are conceived at the limits of sperm — and especially egg — viability," he says, "and that these are more frequent in women practising rhythm contraception than those having unprotected intercourse at random stages of the menstrual cycle."

Aaaaand item: My E2 after 5 days of stims is...13.  At my baseline a week ago, my E2 was...14.  Looking good, Julie, looking good.  (Now would be an excellent time to break out those "Why, my E2 dropped ten points from baseline and I ended up pregnant with healthy boy/girl twins that cycle!" stories if you've got 'em, but, well, I'd be surprised if you did.)

That's the news and I...am...outta here.

Update: Cycle cancelled!  Bender commencing!

Also please ask your rep to play "Freebird"

Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to give it up for HR 735!

(Now is when you applaud wildly, shout "Whooooo!" and make those rock 'n' roll devil horns with your hands.  I think those are simply adorable.)

Known as the Family Building Act of 2005, HR 735 calls for all group insurance plans to offer coverage for infertility diagnosis and treatment.  The bill, initially introduced by Rep. Anthony Weiner (D-NY) and currently being revised and resubmitted for the new Congress, stipulates that if a plan covers obstetrical benefits, it must also provide "coverage for treatment of infertility deemed appropriate by a participant or beneficiary and the treating physician."  That's right: if they pay to see you through pregnancy, they also have to help you get that far.

(Now is when you thrash your head back and forth, lost to the pounding rhythm, body and mind enslaved by the insistent thrum of a relentless bass line.  While you are still disoriented, please also purchase a souvenir T-shirt.)

Some highlights:

• The bill acknowledges in its opening lines that infertility affects approximately 10% of the reproductive-aged population; that the majority of insurance plans do not provide coverage for infertility treatment; and that "a fundamental part of the human experience is fulfilling the desire to reproduce."
• The bill defines infertility as "a disease or condition that results in the abnormal function of the reproductive system," and encompasses not only those of us who can't conceive within a year, but those who can't carry a pregnancy to term.
• The bill calls for coverage of up to four IVF retrievals, or, "if a live birth follows a completed oocyte retrieval, then at least 2 more completed oocyte retrievals shall be covered, with a lifetime cap of six retrievals."
• The bill's definition of ART includes IVF, GIFT, ZIFT, embryo cryopreservation, egg or embryo donation, and surrogate birth.

(I think the time is right to hump the mic stand in a most theatrical fashion.)

Now, although infertile people share a particular life experience, we're not politically homogeneous.  Not all of us approve of universal insurance coverage for treatment.  That disagreement often stems from concerns about the rising cost of health care, particularly as it affects small businesses.  I'm not a serious student of the issue, so I can't speak with any authority, but a quick bit of research seems to indicate that the additional cost for this supplemental coverage would fall somewhere between $1 and $3 per member per month.  (RESOLVE suggests that coverage might actually reduce costs.)  I can understand, I suppose, why someone might not be eager to pay more every month to give someone else the chance to have a child.  I do understand; I just don't feel the same way.  Babies — or at least access to the most appropriate, most effective high-tech treatment — for all my friends!

(Now is when you either rush the stage, throw me into the first six rows of seats, and stomp the shit out of me in a frenzy of collective outrage, or lovingly wing your underpants — thong, boxer, or granny — at me.)

If you feel the same way and want to help the upcoming revision of HR 735 become law, here's what you need to do:

1. Familiarize yourself with what the bill proposes so that you can speak or write persuasively in support of it.
2. Contact your representative and ask that he or she co-sponsor the Family Building Act of 2007.  E-mail is good, a phone call is better, and a real letter — paper!  ink!  correct postage!  real human spit on the envelope flap! — is best of all.  (RESOLVE has a form letter you can send to your rep via e-mail; if you want to compose your own message, you can do so through his or her official site.  You can also find your rep's phone number and mailing address via the House's Web site.)
3. Follow up.  A poster on IVFC who's active in infertility advocacy says, "It takes a lot of nagging to get anything done. You're all going to have to call and ask for the legislative aide covering health care policy in your congressperson's office a couple of times before they will even remember to look at it."  If you send a letter, she says, "Follow up after you send the original letter. I have spoken with legislative aides in congressional offices and they all say the same thing: because they get tons of letters asking for help, support, et cetera, it is difficult to give each one the attention they deserve, but when they get follow up phone calls, they are more likely to believe that it is important to the sender, rather than some form letter that they can ignore.  So please follow up with a phone call, ask to speak to the person handling insurance or health care issues, and tell them that this legislation is very important to you.  Tell them you would like a call back when they agree to co-sponsor it. And if you don't hear from them in two weeks, call again."

(That was the drum solo.  I say it rocked, and I'll brook no dissent.)

What will you say to your representative?  It's up to you, of course.  One poster at IVFC wrote this to hers:

I just came across the birth announcement for your beautiful baby girl online and wanted to write a note of congratulations. Seeing your face, and that of your wife, reflected in your child must be miraculous. Sadly, my husband and I may never know that joy because our insurance will not cover infertility treatment and the cost of self-financed care is high. Sir, I pray that the birth of your child will help you appreciate all the more what couples like us have lost and are losing and that you keep us in mind when the The Family Building Act is reintroduced in Congress. Couples like us, indeed all insured people, should have access to the medical treatments that can bring life into their lives and light into their hearts. May we all experience the the same joy, love and peace that you and your wife now know.

..."Ridiculously sappy," she added pragmatically, "but sure to appeal to a big flaming Republican" like her rep.

Oh, and it also wouldn't hurt to lift your shirt.  I hear the bassist really gets off on that.

Little orphan asshole

"The law," declared Mr. Bumble in Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist, "is a ass."  He was protesting the legal presumption that he was responsible for the misdeeds of his wife, whom he had just fingered for jewel theft.

That quote is ripe for an update, not least because the very premise is antiquated.  The idea that Paul should be held responsible for anything I do — well, on second thought, I suddenly see certain advantages.  As a matter of fact, Judge Pancreas, I was powerless to resist eating that entire bag of potato chips.  After all, it was my lord and master's Visa card that paid for them, and I can prove it.  I have receipts.  (Gosh, Paul, sorry about that whole jail thing.  As an act of contrition I will bake you a sugar-free flourless low-carb cake and deliver it on visiting day.  Share it with all the nice friends you are sure to make in the exercise yard.)

But I cannot escape the fact that we live in different times.  So I'll amend Bumble's lament slightly: The proposed law is an asshole.  In this case I am referring to H.R. 5889, The Orphan Works Act of 2008 (PDF) and its identical cousin, S. 2913 (PDF).  Rest assured that despite the name, this is not a Twistian bill intended to hound those unhappy workhouse urchins into an early coal-shaft grave.  In fact, it's not related to reproduction or parenthood at all, except in the most tangential sense, so if you are interested mainly in those topics, feel free to click away because I'm about to bore the sooty third-hand rags off you.  But if you blog about your kids, stick around — perhaps this will be of interest.

Now on to the Orphan Works Act.  First let's define our terms.  Currently a copyright is conferred automatically upon the creation of a work.  According to the U.S. Copyright Office, a copyright notice is not required, and registration is not necessary to protect that work.  For blog-related purposes, this means that any original material I post on my site, or you post on yours, is copyrighted, and ours to protect, without any further effort necessary.  An orphan work is a copyrighted work whose creator is difficult or impossible to contact.  Those of us who post through a veil of obscurity — anonymous or pseudonymous bloggers — may well fall into that category by our own design.

As it is relevant, then, to us diminutive-name-for-motherbloggers, the Orphan Works Act proposes the following:

• Just as it is now, no registration will be required for a copyright to be created.  However, if a copyright holder hopes to preserve her right to meaningful damages in the event of infringement, the bill stipulates that she must register that copyright with a certified database, to be created and maintained by unspecified third parties — third parties who would presumably levy some sort of charge for doing so.  The immediate problem with this, as it pertains to bloggers, is obvious: most of us don't make money from our work, and would find registering even a few images, even at a low fee, prohibitively expensive.  So either we stop posting pictures, or we open ourselves to infringement, because...
• If a copyright holder chooses not to register her work with the proposed database, the work could automatically become an orphan and therefore fair game for use by third parties.  (After all, if it's not in the database proposed by the bill, how can "a qualifying search in good faith" find its creator?  And just like that, your work is orphaned.)
• Should the copyright holder somehow become aware of third-party use of that so-called orphan works — a possibility but by no means a certainty — she has the right to bring legal action against the infringer. However, the Orphan Works Act limits the penalties that can be awarded in such cases.  Since the copyright holder is not entitled to any compensation for court costs or legal fees, these costs would likely exceed any award the copyright holder might be given.  So what else could a small-scale blogger do but let an infringer get away with it?
• Current law gives the copyright holder the sole right to derivative works, which is presumably the reason your local independent bookseller isn't awash in titles like Harry Potter and the Black and Decker Cordless Rechargeable Orgasmatron.  But the Orphan Works Act will permit a third party to copyright a derivative work.  Sure, the original work remains mine, but when the American Oven Mitt Consortium decides to use Charlie's naked likeness — modified, natch, by the careful pelvic placement of one of their fine family of products — to flog their wares, I'll be up the creek without a giant floppy heat resistant rubber glove.

The obvious solution to all of these problems is to make sure our personal information is freely displayed and publicly accessible, so that anyone who'd like to use our material can contact us to request permission and — you may say I'm a dreamer — offer appropriate compensation.  But considering the inherent privacy issues, I'd feel a certain sympathy for anyone reluctant to do so, especially anyone who posts about her family.

There are certainly legitimate reasons to be concerned with the problem of elusive copyright holders.  And I have been unable to conect some of the alarming claims made by opponents of the Act with the text of the bill itself.  So I'm not suggesting knee-jerk opposition.  But I am suggesting that if you're concerned about the possible implications of this legislation, or if you have any questions about how you could be affected should it pass, you might contact your Congressional representatives and let them know.  Sure, the law might be an ass, but if you ask me, it's an ass in need of saving.

UPDATE: Several of you have commented saying that if a blogger allows comments or posts an e-mail address, the foregoing won't be a concern.  That's true as far as it goes, with someone finding work on a blogger's site and wishing to use it.  But say, just for the purposes of argument, that the following occurs...

I create something I think is moderately clever and post it on my site.  A reader agrees that it is indeed moderately clever and forwards it to a friend, sans attribution.  They tell two people, and they tell two people, and eventually my work — unattributed — ends up on the desk of, I don't know, the president of American Schlockworks Greeting Cards.

The president likes it and decides to appropriate it for use in his company's forward-thinking new line, "So You Say It Sucks to Be You."  The line is a smash hit and makes a kajillion dollars.

But where's my fraction-of-a-kajillion?  In this case, the good people at American Schlockworks don't have an easy way to find out who created the work.  If I haven't registered my work with the proposed database, under the proposed legislation their liability will be limited: they'll only have to pay me a pittance, and that's if I find out they've used it and if I take the financial risk of bringing suit, a pretty big "if" considering the cost of doing so versus the limited amount I would stand to gain.

Having already seen some of my work passed around the Internet without attribution, it's all too easy for me to see someone's work being ruled an orphan when in truth it is not.  ("Hey, I don't know where this pissy little not-pregnant-yet ticker came from!  I saw it on a message board somewhere.")  It's easy to propose that any creator make sure that her attribution is indivisible from the work itself, but in the case of many works that's impractical — photographs, illustrations, textiles — since it would compromise the visual impact of the original work.

(And I absolutely agree that it's not pitchforks-and-buckets-of-tar time just yet, which is why I calmly suggested contacting your representatives to learn more instead of exhorting you to storm the capitol and simply set the lying bastards on fire.  I realize it is rare indeed that I'm not waving my arms in a panic, so I'm kind of pathetically eager to get credit for it when I manage to refrain.)