Probably Won't Find This First in the Baby Books...

Zee Baby went to her first Gay Pride Rally...




We went to a rally organized by the local high school here in support of gay rights and in honor of the Day of Silence.

Most importantly we wanted to support our friends' son who, as a Senior in high school, just came out. When I was in high school, I got all bitter about all of the things that happened to rhyme with 'Zube' and the fact that my classmates were literary geniuses (geniui?) in poetry. Booby, dooby, booty, you get the picture. Come to find out, I had it easy.

Anyway, I'd love for you all to send my friends' son some loving, supportive vibes right now...'cause those are the best kind. It might be nice if you expressed them here. I'm not one to beg for comments but sometimes when you do something hard it's nice to know that people are supporting you, out there thinking you're tough as shit and all...I should know. I'd like, if possible, to give him visible proof of just how much he rocks.

I want to thank him for speaking tonight at the rally. And for taking a step toward making the world my daughter grows up in a better, more accepting place. I want her to know that she'll be accepted for who she is, no matter who she loves, and without people like him today, that might not happen tomorrow.

Chris, I'm proud of you, kid.

Now, Before You Start Yelling...

Hear me out. I wanted to share with you the testimony I read on Monday to the Senate Hearing Committe who would decide whether or not to pass SB 60, a bill that would require hospitals to inform rape victims in the ER about emergency contraception, onto the Senate floor.

But first, let me disclaimer away...

-I have an appointment tomorrow and the doctor said he would actually like to see how my body handles a bit of activity since, at the last appointment, things were looking good.

-I only spoke for four minutes. Not much standing at all.

-I think the stress of NOT speaking out would have been more detrimental than anything else.

I think that's all. Onto my testimony...

I am here today in the hopes that my story might encourage you to vote yes on SB 60. When I was a twenty-year-old college student, an acquaintance offered to give me a ride to the grocery store upon hearing my car was broken down. At the end of that evening, I was a survivor of rape. A few weeks later, eleven years ago on Valentine’s Day, my college housemates bought me a pregnancy test and encouraged me to take it in the hopes that I’d stop worrying about something as unlikely as a pregnancy resulting from the attack.

I remember taking that test as though it happened just yesterday. My three roommates anxiously gathered in the common area. Me, leaning against the sink in the bathroom, hands trembling, reading the pregnancy test instructions. The second pink line showing up immediately. Running out of the bathroom, past my roommates, slamming my bedroom door and collapsing on my bed. Sobbing into my pillow. Hearing the shuffle of my roommates in the bathroom, whispering confirmation of what my reaction had already told them was true.

I remember thinking why me? Why would I be one of the unlucky few? So many of the statistics I’d heard, in all of my Pro-Life upbringing, proclaimed that getting pregnant as a result of rape was extremely rare. As in, a 1% chance. And I’d clung to that statistic, trying desperately to ignore the queasiness and exhaustion of early pregnancy. Surely I’d be one of the 99%.

I can never fully convey the horror of that day. I felt violated. Not once. But twice. First by a friend of a friend. And then, by my own body. My body, which, according to my rudimentary understanding at the time of what my Pro-Life compatriots had always told me, was supposed to release chemicals after the rape that would reject a pregnancy.

Now I know that those statistics and the talk of one’s body rejecting a pregnancy after rape are not true. For the simple reason that, as many times as I have shared my story, which is many in the past few years, at least one woman has pulled me aside and told me that, she too, became pregnant as a result of rape. It happens more than we know.

I can only imagine what life would have been, and would be like now, for me if I had not become pregnant. I’ve since learned that, while emergency contraception wasn’t widely available at the time, doctors were able to prescribe a number of birth control pills with a similar effect to Emergency Contraception. If I had only known, I might not have become pregnant at all. I might have been able to celebrate Valentine’s Day at a restaurant having dinner with my incredibly supportive boyfriend. Instead, I spent the evening contemplating just how and when I would tell my Mom and Dad.

In the end, with the support of my parents, family, and friends, I terminated the pregnancy. The experience left me with a greater understanding of what it is like to face an unwanted pregnancy, no matter the circumstances. I now support Choice and the rights of women to make decisions regarding their own medical care when it comes to their reproductive lives.

It would be my dream that no woman would have to endure the trauma of being raped. More so, I dream that a survivor of rape would never have to face a pregnancy resulting from the attack. Those dreams are unlikely to ever be realized. However, providing rape victims with information about Emergency Contraception is one step in the right direction. I can only hope that all of you here will understand the importance of providing rape victims with all of the relevant information regarding their care. And that includes information about Emergency Contraception and the possibility of preventing pregnancy.

I am now 25 weeks pregnant. My husband and I are expecting our first child. It has been a struggle to get here. We suffered three miscarriages last year. With each loss, I struggled with the question of why. Why would my body maintain a pregnancy after rape while failing to keep those I’d made together with a loving man? A nice man. A man who would never, in a million years, dream of harming me. I will never know. Had I been able to prevent the pregnancy eleven years ago, I would never wonder about that one aspect of an already heart wrenching situation.

Life as a survivor of rape is difficult enough. The overwhelming sense of not being in control of my body and my fate is a feeling I’ve shared and discussed with other survivors. Withholding pertinent medical information from someone on the threshold of a struggle to regain control is unspeakable. Please put control back in the hands of those to whom it belongs. The rape victim.


And...drumroll please...the bill was passed on UNANIMOUSLY by all eleven committee members. Which was a complete surprise. I feel like I made a difference, somehow.

I've Submitted My Letter to the Editor

On Friday, June 30th, Planned Parenthood clinics across the state will be giving out free Emergency Contraception (EC) as they did on July 1st of last year. This is in response to Governor Owens vetoing House Bill 1212 – Colorado's Prescriptive Authority Bill. This bill would have enabled Colorado pharmacists to prescribe and dispense EC to women without a doctor’s prescription.

I urge my fellow Summit County residents to participate in this event. Some of you may think you have no need for Emergency Contraception. When I heard about the event last year, I thought it was a great idea, but didn’t think I’d actually participate. I’m married and planning a family. Why would I need Emergency Contraception?

The truth is I should know better. As some of you may remember from a previous article in the Summit Daily, I am all too familiar with the scenario EC could prevent. Ten years ago, I was a twenty-year-old college student. My car was broken down, and I accepted a ride from a friend of a friend to the grocery store. At the end of that evening, I was a survivor of rape. A month later, I discovered I was pregnant. Ultimately, I terminated the pregnancy. Had I had access to Emergency Contraception, I might not have become pregnant at all.

I encourage you to remember that emergencies happen to us, and people we love, without the benefit of foresight. Though young women are at higher risk of being victimized, rapists don’t necessarily discriminate based on age and marital status. You can bet that I’m going to make the effort to get to a Planned Parenthood on the 30th. We just never know when and how an unwanted pregnancy might occur. I know I didn’t.

What I...

...Didn't really want to hear my coochie doctor say:

"We have a medical student working with us today. Do you mind if he observes?"

...Kind of wish I hadn't said:

"Sure! No problem."

...Kind of wish I had said:

"Eh, what the hell? Can we pass out popcorn and 3-D glasses? I'd be more than happy to accommodate God and everybody's viewing of my nether regions."

I mean, at least then I'd have been a witty bare naked lady, right?

...Thought to myself:

"Well hell, how else is the guy going to learn how to be a good OB/GYN?"

...Couldn't have been more pissed to find in an e-mail from Planned Parenthood this morning:

"Yesterday, Gov. Bill Owens vetoed Colorado’s Emergency Contraception Bill (HB 1212). For the second consecutive year, Owens vetoed a bill that would have provided women with greater access to emergency contraception. "

Linky Goodness:

His drivel on the matter...

Information about the bill and a list of various organizations that supported it...

...Think people don't understand about Emergency Contraception...

It's fucking CONTRACEPTION!!! It PREVENTS pregnancy and ABORTION!!! If a woman is already pregnant? Odds are she will remain so. IT IS NOT AN ABORTIFICANT!!! It helps with the whole NOT GETTING PREGNANT THING! Much like, you know, the BIRTH CONTROL PILL! But hell, some pharmacists are trying to refuse that to women, so I don't know what I was thinking, expecting Pro-Life people to desire to REDUCE the number of abortions. Apparently that's not what this whole fucking dispute is about for some of them. They just want everybody to be pregnant because having kids is WHAT YOU GET for having sex. Or, in my case, getting raped. DUH!

...Think would look just FABULOUS on my foot...

Some More Stuff...

-When I found out I was pregnant, the Bad Time, I kid you not, nearly EVERY friend I had who was Pro-Life urged me to have an abortion. They said, "Oh my God, I never knew until it happened to you, that I would feel this way. You HAVE to have an abortion." This surprised the SHIT out of me. But, what surprised me even more was that EVERY person I knew who was Pro-Choice, the people I was SURE would try to convince me to have an abortion said, "Well, what do YOU want to do?" Including my Dad. We all know what I decided in the end, but seriously, isn't the odd? I mean, given the awful circumstances of my pregnancy, I'd have thought that the Pro-Choice people would be the ones who'd be all "GET AN ABORTION!" But, it turned out the opposite.

-When I spoke at that rally for Emergency Contraception, there were some women there with signs that said, "CUNT WARRIORS!" I was pretty pissed. I mean, come on PEOPLE! We're trying to PASS A LAW here! Now, I'm the first person to think, in many other situations, that those signs are pretty fucking funny. The word 'cunt' scares people, so it rather amuses me. But, there's a time and a place. And the time and place is Not. At. An. Important. Political. Rally. Sorry if that makes me a wuss, but why alienate people, you know? Anyway...

-"Shit! She's looking! Meeting adjourned. Act natural..."


-Zube Boy and I are having a creativity contest with our magnet words we got from a friend for Christmas. My sentence is on the left. His is on the right. I think he's winning.


-I give him two weeks. Maybe three. Tops. After that? He's history.


Edited to Add: The photo in this post might clarify what the little green guy is.

If You Wouldn't Mind Getting a Cavity, Feel Free to Continue Reading

Dear Zube Boy,

Today marks five years that we've been together. I know, Ha Ha, it feels like ten. You're too funny. Hee. But really? I want to thank you. For everything. For all of the laughs and all of the hugs and all of the flowers and all of the support. For proving to me that there are wonderful, wonderful men out there. And that I could actually be lucky enough to fall in love with one. One who would love me back.

Thank you for turning my tears of sorrow into tears of laughter. Thank you for being strong when I'm, well, not so much. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to know that it is possible to love someone more each and every day. Thank you for going to rallies with me and rallying for me. Thank you for asking me, "Are you okay?" and saying, "You'll do fine," when I'm nervous as hell about speaking in front of a large group of people. Even when you are just as nervous, if not more, about being in front of a large group of people.


Thank you for being brave enough to stand by me; the only man among a sea of women. Thank you for being so concerned with what will help me, that you forget to think about how it will put you in the limelight. And I know how much you hate the limelight. You are so understated, it's inspiring. Thank you for being what other men should aspire to be.

Thank you for laughing with me at the dumbass who, after eating Thanksgiving dinner at our house, told a friend that we had a very negative relationship. I hope he enjoyed the arsenic laced turkey, too.

Thank you for eating the tomato stuffed with cous-cous and ranch dressing I made you five years ago today. Even though, now I know, that you hate tomatoes.

I know we joke about the fact that I could have been honey-less, usually when you want me to make you cookies or something and I need a little encouragement. But, all joking aside, when that jeep flipped over, the world stopped. I didn't see anyone else. I didn't hear anyone else. I didn't even notice that I was navigating my way up an 70 degree incline of slippery dirt in flip flops. I think I flew. Or angels carried me. Or something. I only remember hearing, "Oh fuck, they flipped. The jeep. It flipped," and then being there at your side. I don't think I took a breath, until I heard you speak. I don't think I've ever wanted to hug someone forever. Until then.

I know I get all fiercely independent, and I think that's one of the things you admire about me, but all of my, 'I am Zube, hear me ROAR' lunacy aside, you mean the world to me. And I don't know that I'd be meowing, much less ROARING, if I didn't have you there, cheering me on. Or egging me on. Depending on how you look at it.

Thank you for giving me quite possibly the best years of my life so far. And thank you for the years ahead. I know they'll be just as awesome.

Okay, I have to cut this shit out. I've got a lump in my throat, and wet shit in my eyes, and I'm feeling the sudden urge to sing Wind Beneath My Wings. See what you do to me?

Anyway, you rock. I adore the ever-living shit out of you. I only hope that I've been half as much to you as you have been to me.

Love,

Zube Girl

PS- If you would quit leaving dirty cereal bowls on the side of the bathtub, it'd be possible for you to give me the most PERFECT years of my life. But, I'll settle for best. Oh yeah. It would also help if you'd stop taking fucked up pictures of me.

Huh? What? Nyquil? And Shit That's Important...To Me Anyway

-This morning I went to work and not three minutes after arriving, my boss said, "Oh my God! What are you doing here? Go home. You're painful to look at!" Surprisingly, I couldn't have been happier to hear her say that. It's days like this that make me want to dry hump my couch. Or just lay on it. And watch Montel. Yeah. I'm all sick and shit. Still. Nyquil is the best thing ever.

-I was interviewed by Brian, a super nice journalist from Glamour magazine, back in October while I was vacationing in Jersey. He was writing an article about women's reproductive health and wanted to talk to someone who would have benefited from the availability of Emergency Contraception to prevent a pregnancy after rape. Before I agreed to an interview, I called Zube Boy to see if he'd be all cool with that. He said, "Of course, I've always wanted to be married to a Glamour Girl." I said, "Yeah, um, honey, it's not like they're going to do a photo shoot or anything. At the most, I'll get in, like, one quote." His response: "I know, but do it anyway. If it'll help other people, it'll help you, and that's all I care about." Have I ever mentioned how much he rocks with the support thing? Well, he does.

The article is supposed to be in the February issue. I'm kind of nervous because shortly after going public as a rape survivor, I learned that you never know exactly which quotes are going to be pulled from a twenty five minute conversation. I fret that they'll publish one thing I said, out of context, and it'll make me sound stupid. I don't know why I'm so worried about it. I mean, it's not like I'm being interviewed by Focus on the Family or some other crazy ass religous group who'd take great pleasure in contorting my words. Regardless, I won't really feel comfortable until I read the article. Anyone know when the February edition might come out? I'm not exactly an avid reader of Glamour, but I can't wait to get my hands on this issue.

-The ten year anniversary of the night I was raped is coming up on January 21st. TEN FUCKING YEARS! And here I am, still writing about it. Sometimes, on a really insecure day, I wonder if people who read my blog are thinking, "Goddamn, when will she fucking get over it already?"

Thing is, not that I'm over it, or ever will be, but I'm okay with it. I share because I want others to know that they can, and likely should, share, too. That's the only way to get it out. It's the reason I feel pretty damn okay most of the time. Every time I tell it, it's like I'm throwing a little piece of the shittiness away. People give me props for being strong, and while I appreciate that, I'd like to extend the accolades to folks who are going it alone. That's a bundle of shit to carry all by yourself. I know because I did it for awhile.

To anyone who has ever commented on my blog or e-mailed me to share your story, THANK YOU. My voice is emboldened by yours. I could never, ever do this all by myself. I hope you don't have to either.

-I love comedians who can't help but laugh at themselves. Not the ones who laugh just to emphasize the fact that what they're saying is supposed to be funny. The ones that are so fucking funny they can't help it and start giggling in the middle of their act.

-Zube Boy had a hard time getting out of bed this morning. I wanted to help him so I farted. Really loud. He got to work early. After calling me fucking disgusting, of course.

Why I Speak Up...

I’ve had something on my mind lately, and I've been remiss to post it because, well, I don’t know really. Sometimes I feel like folks come here to get a good laugh, and when I throw in a serious post I worry that I'll fuck up the ambiance or whatever the hell I’ve got going on here.

Thing is, my twisted sense of humor arose as a coping mechanism. If I hadn’t been able to say, “Ah, fuck it. I’ll stick around and see what else could possibly go wrong,” I might’ve ingested that bottle of pills oh so many years ago. But I didn’t. Okay, so it also had a little to do with envisioning my family at my funeral and realizing it would tear them apart, but I digress...

I’ve been active with Planned Parenthood lately, in particular supporting the cause of mandating hospitals to inform rape victims of the availability of Emergency Contraception. I’ve spoken at a rally, a press conference that was aired on the news, and to a few reporters here and there about my experience of being raped, impregnated by the rapist, and having an abortion ten years ago. I think it is incredibly important to share my story for several reasons, but here are just a couple.

Firstly, I want any other woman who might be in the throes of a similar experience to know that they are going to be okay. Really, really, really. That’s most important to me. Maybe a little crazy, but okay. I'm a little crazy and a little okay, and it's cool. It's cool, too, to cry a lot or a little. Just do what feels right. That's about all you can do. You are not alone, though it may feel that way.

Which leads me to...

Secondly, rape survivors are left largely on their own to deal with the repercussions of their assault. It’s fucking sad and shouldn't be that way. I remember spending much of my energy worrying what people would think of me if I told them. It’s not like breaking your leg. When you break your leg, you ring up your family, friends, and work and say, “Hey, I broke my fucking leg,” and people send you flowers and cards and you get days or weeks off of work.

When you're raped, at least in my experience, it doesn't go down like that. Especially if it's not 'Stranger Jumping Out of the Bushes' rape. I went to class the next day, and work after that. Everyone thought it best if I carried on as usual. So I did, wanting to make them feel better. I proved that I could still tie my shoes, and take notes about algorithms. Truthfully, though, it would’ve been nice if I could have taken some time to recuperate from a broken spirit. Just because you can't see it or slap a cast on it, doesn't mean it can't be broken or injured, ya know?

Rape is something many survivors suffer in silence because it involves sex, which people feel icky talking about it. But, people need to talk about it to make the stigma go away, and since I feel pretty damn okay most days, I do. I’ve got to honor my funny bone by giving appropriate recognition to just where it came from. Being tough as nails, and knowing that each time I laugh, it proves that the mother fucker who raped me couldn’t take that away. Not forever, anyway.

I have noticed that my serious posts go largely uncommented on. And you know what? That’s okay. Seriously you guys. One of the hardest parts about going public for me has been the response from other women who’ve told me how brave I am and relayed their stories. I usually say, “First of all, I’m no braver than you and second of all, it happened to me, and I still don’t know what to say to you except that it sucks and I’m sorry.” I feel like if I'm standing up in front of 200 people telling my story, I should know the perfect response, but I don't.

I'm only human. As are you all. Well, except for the one or two aliens that might read this, which makes me hope that I'm not a case study for earthling normalcy. If so, we're all fucked. But, to the humans, it's okay to be human, and not know what to say.

So, it's off my chest now. Thank you. I feel better. Hopefully, you are no worse for the wear, which would be the best case scenario for both of us.

Public Service Announcement!

I've stopped checking myself out in the mirror long enough to learn that Colorado's Planned Parenthood chapters will be giving out FREE Emergency Contraception on July 1st. Actually, I'll be speaking at a press conference about it on Wednesday, and should be writing that instead of writing in my blog, but, feh. I'm having trouble writing stuff I'm going to read out loud, and finding it easier to write stuff that's just gonna be read online by other people. Know what I mean?

Anyway, this is Planned Parenthood's response to Governor Bill Owen's vetoing of HB 1042, which would have required hospitals to provide pertinent medical information about emergency contraception to rape victims. Women who were, you know, raped. And maybe want to prevent a pregnancy as a result of that. You could say that this is near and dear to my heart.

In other news, I've added a '100 Things About Me' link under 'First and Foremost' if you're a crazy ass stalker and want to check it out.