This week, Baby Liberal turned one. It goes without saying that Mr. Liberal and I think our son is absolutely perfect. What he is NOT, however, is priceless.
On the day he arrived, my little darling was worth $56,826.50. By the time we left the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) eight days later, he was worth an additional $21,651.50. Having already met the $6,000.00 maximum out-of-pocket deductible with my prenatal care, my precious bundle of joy had a pricetag of $84,478.00 before we'd purchased the first pack of diapers.
More below the fold
First, some background.
My husband and I had always planned to adopt. Given my health history (diabetes and other assorted chronic conditions), it seemed like the right choice for us. Our baby had other plans.
I knew I was pregnant the instant it happened, but three negative tests (two of which were taken WAY too early) said otherwise. I couldn't shake "feeling pregnant" and so, doubled over with cramps, took the fourth test... TA DA: Plus Sign!
My husband learned about his impending fatherhood, as I burst through the door saying, "I'm pregnant. I'm in pain. We're going to the hospital." Which, he says, is a very memorable emotional roller-coaster.
So began the tests. Because it was so early in my pregnancy (4 weeks), the ultrasound couldn't determine whether the little guy was correctly situated, or might be an ectopic pregnancy. Blood tests were ordered to see if my hormones were increasing at the appropriate rate. "Go Home. Get your blood drawn tomorrow. We'll get back to you. But come back if you start bleeding profusely." Such were my discharge instructions.
Because I was a high-risk pregnancy, I had two OB-GYNs as well as a diabetic counselor for the duration of my pregnancy. One doc every four weeks, the other every eight weeks, the counselor every two weeks for the first 2 trimesters. Ultrasounds every eight weeks. My insurance covered everything at 75%.
At 28 weeks, I went to weekly visits with my diabetic counselor and weekly Non-Stress Tests. The little guy passed with flying colors.
In my 32nd week, a regular check-up took an unexpected turn -- my blood pressure was too high. Preecclampsia. Suddenly I was at the hospital being given a shot "In case we have to deliver your baby tonight." WHAAAAT?!
I was in the hospital on bedrest for the next 10 days. (Note: "bed-confinement" is more like it -- there is no such thing as "rest" when your vitals are being taken every hour) Finally, my little man decided it was time. I was given drugs to prvent seizure. Natural Labor. Induced Labor. Epidural.
Suddenly two doctors and three nurses stormed my room -- my baby was in distress. We had to go C-Section. No time for a local, I was put under completely (after all this, I missed my son's birth entirely).
Baby Liberal was rushed up to the NICU. We were told he'd be there for three weeks -- my little superhero "graduated" in eight days.
Then the bills came. His NICU bill was rejected entirely (though, when I challenged it, they couldn't give me a reason for the denial -- likely they were hoping I'd miss the window to dispute and get stuck with the bill). My hospital stay was (falsely) declared "out of network" and covered at the lowest rate allowed. Again, we disputed.
We have received three different "revised" bills from the hospital, none of which match what our insurance company says we owe. Every couple of weeks I check back with the hospital or the insurance company, where the matter is always "under review."
The love of my life turned one this week, and still, no one can tell us what we owe for his birth. Without the care we recieved, one or both of us would have died. With the cost of the care we received, even with insurance we will be maxed out on our credit cards. Without the insurance? Bankrupt.
No one should have to mortgage their child's future in order to ensure their child's life. Just something to keep in mind when someone tells you there is no healthcare crisis.