The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and Socialist Utopia

My son, Hank, was born at 28 weeks on February, 19 2024. My wife and I would spend the next three months in the Ronald McDonald House and Hank in the NICU at the University of Alabama, Birmingham in Birmingham, Alabama. It was one of the most difficult experiences of my life, but the experience was made demonstrably easier because of the socialist-feminist institutional care economy practiced by the doctors, nurses, and social workers at the hospital and associated institutions. The following is an argument that UAB Womens’ and Infants’ Center, Ronald McDonald House, the March of Dimes, and UAB Arts in Medicine together represent an actually existing practice of socialist feminism by prioritizing reproductive labor.

Reproductive labor, simply, is the labor required to sustain life in a direct way. Unlike productive labor, which is about producing commodities for the market, reproductive labor produces life itself, not only in a very direct way like childbirth, but also care for home, which ironically is the etymology of the word economics, maintenance and repair of all kinds of machinery and equipment, cooking, cleaning, and even customer service. Often, in the Marxist tradition, reproductive labor, which is almost always performed by women, is minimized in favor of productive labor. This is misogyny, plain and simple.

In the NICU, men and fathers are secondary to women and infants. This in and of itself represents a marked departure from American society where productive labor is centered. There are few fathers to be found and the ones that are there, including myself, often feel powerless. I had to change from someone used to being the center of attention to my wife’s helper, which I’m thankful for such an experience because it deepened my commitment to my family and to feminism. The NICU is not about me and I needed to learn what that felt like, such uncomfortableness is probably the reason for the dearth of men.

All of the nurses are performing reproductive labor by caring for sick kids and their families. I can’t imagine a tougher person than a NICU nurse. They lose babies, probably more often than any of us can imagine. I know in my three months there, I know of three guests and the Ronald McDonald House that lost babies. There’s no way in hell that I could be tough enough to lose a baby on a regular basis and remain as warm and competent as all the nurses in the NICU were. As one NICU nurse argued, “(to be a NICU nurse), you have to be part grandma and part street smarts.” Don’t even get me started on the mothers and fathers who treat nurses like customer service.

My wife, Hank, and I were also cared for in other ways. We regularly attended arts classes put on by the March of Dimes and UAB Arts in Medicine. Some of our bills were paid for us including our mortgage and cell phone. We were also fed regularly, free of charge, and given tickets to the Birmingham Barons, a local minor league baseball team. We had the best seats in the house at the game.

This institutional arrangement, which I believe represents a form of socialist feminism, healed our son. The purpose of this institutional arrangement is to institutionalize reproductive labor, thoroughly, to institutionalize the care of others and to center women and children. While the experience was incredibly difficult, the doctors, nurses, and social workers saved my son and my wife, and healed me.

If multi-million dollar institutions can implement these practices and values within the framework of a larger capitalist society, I see no reason why we shouldn’t be able to create similar institutions ourselves. It may take generations, but it can be done.

The Womens’ and Infants’ Center at UAB, the Ronald McDonald House, the March of Dimes, and UAB Arts in Medicine is the closest thing to utopia that I’ve ever experienced. Utopia is not about never struggling; it’s about being cared for when you do.