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MAMA-KANGAROO 244
My baby was nine months old when I became pregnant again. My memories from the first labor were fresh and I didn’t want another child. I announced the news to my husband while fighting the tears. He smiled at me, and he hugged me. I cried. For days I tried to reason with him, and finally he understood... I went to the doctor and he determined that I was ten weeks pregnant. I told the doctor that I didn’t want this baby, and he tried to make me change my mind. At the end, I decided to keep the baby. Thanks God, otherwise I would have been deprived of the loveliest being in this world. With every day closer to my due date, my fear based on my previous labor experience, was getting stronger. During my last check up, I had to wait for three hours standing and watching other patients getting to the doctor’s office before me. I lost my patience and complained to the nurse who didn’t offer me a chair all that time in the waiting room. “Sweety, why didn’t you tell me you were nine months pregnant?” “Do I need Pavarotti’s belly to prove my pregnancy,” I snapped back at the nurse. I panicked after four days passed my due date. This time, I gave birth in Vrsac, March 3, 1998. After six days, my lead doctor decided to keep me in the hospital. I shared the room with four pregnant women. The hospital conditions were horrifying but we managed to at least sneak in the food. The bathroom was filthy. There was a bucket filled with medical debris (it is still unchanged). We called the doctor on duty “what-can-I-do” since this was his only answer to any of our questions or complains. All the nurses were Ok, except the one with the grinning face; god forbid that we should ask her something. The doctor who checked me concluded that I was ready and, if the labor should not start during that night and the following day, she would send me to the maternity ward at five in the afternoon. By then, I was beside myself from worrying . I expressed my fears to the doctor who patiently listened to me. She promised that it was going to be all right. That night I ran through hallway, up and down the stairs, hoping that the labor would start. Nothing happened and I went to the Maternity Ward. I was better prepared this time: shaved “down there.” I couldn’t escape enema, though. And, I was on the operating table. Induction...five drops at the beginning...At some point the contractions intensified. I asked the midwife to help me stand up. -NO! I had to stay put. I saw the doctor in the next room and I called her. I told her that if I should stay in the same position for the next twenty four hours, I shouldn’t be held responsible for my actions. I threatened to pull out the induction needles and create chaos. “Please, help the lady to get up,” the doctor said. The midwife with her now-I-can-kill-you look, helped me and I walked around as far as the infusion would allow me . . . when the pain intensified, I bent over the bed leaning on my elbows while waiting for the pain to stop. They gradually increased the drops, fifteen minutes before the labor it was twenty drops per five minutes, and just before the delivery, twenty five (I felt like screaming when I thought of the 20 drops during the 20 hours with the first labor). I was on my feet even fifteen minutes before the delivery. It seemed as the doctor took my threats seriously that I would jump through a closed window if she wouldn’t allow me to get out of bed. Although it
wasn’t all as easy, compared to the first labor it was like the most
beautiful poem. During the first check up, I was told that baby’s hematoma “may” disappear and that it might harden. I wondered why they didn’t tell me about it before, but instead gave me false hope. They said that they didn’t want to aggravate me so soon after giving birth. Any way, the hematoma disappeared 4,5 months later, when I thought that it would never happen. If my second labor was hard, what was the first one then? I am sure that everything around my second labor was as it was due to my determination to stick to my guns. I am grateful to my obstetrician, Dr. Ogrizovic. I would like to slap the face of the midwife who, two minutes before I gave birth, came only to pull my umbilical cord while leaving half of placenta inside. There is nothing to be said about the staff’s kindness, which doesn’t apply to the nurses in the neonatal unit. The third day after giving birth, I witnessed along with the other women patients, the scene when the Dr. DP yelled throwing obscenities at the woman in labor who was screaming in pain. The “rich” vocabulary came out of the medical doctor’s mouth. We were wearing unbuttoned gowns and we dragged our feet in the oversized shoes making tiny steps so we wouldn’t drop the mashy pads between our legs. For the health reasons, we weren’t allowed to receive anything rather then hygienic pads and the news paper. For the life in me, I will never understand why I couldn’t get the milk in paper carton which I would gulp immediately, how hungry I was, but I could the dirty paper with its runny ink. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could eat like a normal human being. I was forced to fast for the entire five days. A towel! I almost forgot about the towel! I was given a pink towel 40 x 20cm. It was only one for the face and for the body. I marked one corner of the towel so that I could recognize what part I dried my face with. The 99% of the staff in Visegradska hospital look down on the patients. They never give a starlight forward answer to any question asked. Once they told me that the answer would be too complicated for me to understand so they wouldn’t give me any. I am not a doctor, but I am not an idiot either. If someone is going to poke around my body, than I would like to know the consequences. Kindness is very important to me. If someone decided to work with people, to help them, than he/she should show some respect and love to them. A veterinarian supposedly loves the animals. Well, I am afraid that the Gods will never come down to Earth. Sorry if I were too broad, but these things were deeply buried in me for years. I admire your willingness to change this situation, and I wish you all the success. PS: I have always wanted to have one more child, a girl, but I wouldn’t dare under the present hospital circumstances. Good luck with your endeavor.
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STORIES FROM MATERNITY WARDS Mama-Kangaroo 002
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