I lived my worst nightmare – but Medicaid made my daughter's 14 months possible | Opinion
Medicaid gave me time with my child, providing the essential medical care she needed and the time I needed to know my daughter beyond her injuries. Medicaid gave my daughter a full, rich life.
Medicaid matters. And I'll give you just one reason why. It’s the same story I shared with Sen. Joni Ernst, R-Iowa, after she justified lives lost thanks to Medicaid cuts with the comment, “We all are going to die.”
I was a healthy, soon-to-be mom with a full-time job and health insurance. I had a healthy pregnancy and successful delivery. My child and I were ready for the slow, sleepy recovery necessary after childbirth.
Then, every parent’s worst nightmare transpired.
Surgery to make a minor repair in my daughter’s stomach went horribly wrong. My maternity leave turned into eight weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit, followed by 14 months of medical intervention, undergoing therapies in and out of our home, with nursing support and oxygen tubes running through our house. And yes, she did in fact die, as Ernst so bluntly claimed for us all in a town hall meeting on May 30.
Medicaid gave me time with my daughter
Medicaid gave me time with my child, providing the essential medical care she needed and the time I needed to know my daughter beyond her injuries.
Medicaid gave my daughter a full, rich life, even if it was much shorter than anyone hoped for.
Though I had great health insurance from a good job, working 50 hours a week on average, I could never afford the care she needed.
Like many families with preemies and injured infants in the NICU, we utilized every penny our insurance provided, but it wasn’t enough. Medicaid covered what we couldn't and allowed her to have 14 months to meet her family. Hers became the most-visited pew in our church on Sunday mornings. She would always reach for our family dog, who was ever present at her side. She would hold your face in her hands as you held her, because she couldn’t always see us clearly.
My body will forever know the weight of her in my arms, and I became a kinder, gentler and far more compassionate person because I had this time with my child.
It's my job to know we all die. That's what makes us all so valuable.
I already know these truths about every human life because it’s my job to know our value and worth.
I am an ordained minister. I bless babies. I baptize children. I celebrate the lives of those who pass beyond our earthly realm ‒ hopefully, after a very long, and well-lived life. I know we all die. It’s my job to know.
And it’s my job to remind everyone that this very fact – that we do die – is what makes us all so incredibly valuable. Our finitude is exactly why we need to be cherished and cared for.
Medicaid gave my daughter the chance to be cherished by me and by everyone who knew her. I lived the incredibly difficult and painful life of loving and losing a child who was on Medicaid. And I am eternally grateful for what this program meant for my daughter and my family.
I lived the gift of Medicaid, and I see the daily support Medicaid provides in our community.
A deacon in my congregation is on Medicaid. He lives on a fixed income, so he walks to work and to church, and yet, he’s the first one there every Sunday morning. He makes the coffee. He prepares the communion trays.
One Sunday, when a gentleman quietly wept after the loss of his beloved wife of 72 years, this deacon gently placed his hand on his shoulder and held the communion tray until he was ready to be served. The patience and comfort our deacon showed that day is what Medicaid provides for Iowans.
It doesn’t provide everything, just a gentle hand as we face the challenges of life.
Yes, we all die. Our dying is what makes how we live so important. How we live and serve one another is why Medicaid exists, and why protecting it matters so much.
Single mothers doing their best will be hurt most by Medicaid cuts
The people most affected by these cuts will be single mothers doing their very best to raise their children. I know these families. They come to church for preschool and child care before visiting the food pantry down the street.
Our most vulnerable are worthy of care and Medicaid. They are not a bottom line on a budget spreadsheet aimed at funding tax breaks for the wealthy.
Ernst’s reminder that we all die should be a pivotal point in this Medicaid debate. Just not in the way she may have meant it. It is a reminder that how we live together is what matters most. Our greatest calling in life is to care for the least of those in our community. Those in need of care today are the same people we find in the Bible. The children. The disabled. The impoverished. The elderly.
Senator Ernst, can you imagine being the one who reminds our community of this calling: that in caring for the least of us, we care for all of us? Can you imagine being the one who gets to say, “Yes, we all die, so we’re going to spend the life we have caring for each other the best we can”?
I know you know this to be true. I pray you join me in making this vision a reality and ensure everyone can live before we all die.
The Rev. Robyn Bles is senior minister at Wakonda Christian Church in Des Moines. This column originally published in the Des Moines Register.