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MAMA-KANGAROO 488
I gave birth in May 2008 in Subotica and it was my first delivery. The renovated gynecology ward was a sight for sore eyes. I was admitted to that same ward the previous year after an endometriosis surgery. The accommodation was more than piteous: overcrowded rooms, cracked window panes with no curtains, one functioning toilet- extremely messy and dirty- all in all a disaster! That is why it was a big surprise for me to sense these changes as I entered the pre-delivery room. The room was really fantastic, and the atmosphere was cosy and relaxing. The nurses did their job aptly and routinely, though I never expected them to be warm and cordial. A woman in a bed next to mine was very close to delivery; a nurse was constantly with her, massaging her, fondling and comforting her. A great sight! Luckily, I found out that that was an extra service which needs to be arranged for a month before the delivery, otherwise I would have been shocked that I had not been treated the same way. Since I had found out about this option too late, I didn’t have the opportunity to use it. Great films were on TV one after the other, but of course, I couldn’t pay attention; the nurses chatted merrily over coffee, and came to see me from time to time. Now I can’t make sense of the reaction I had then, but I find it funny: whenever I moaned a bit louder or made a disturbing noise, I would apologize to the nurses. They told me that I can scream if I want to, but it’s probably not the best idea. Before the dawn, a young Roma girl arrived. She was only sixteen. Her folks left her in front of the hospital with no papers whatsoever, and the poor kid hardly spoke any Serbian. The nurses went frantic, they shouted, but the girl didn’t manage to answer anything. I guess it was procedure when they took a photo of her and her information. I felt sorry for her. She didn’t understand what was needed from her, she was embarrassed about everything, and all the nurses, except for one who addressed us all officially, were rude to her. That’s why I helped her. I explained what an enema was and gave her toilet paper. She felt more at ease when she realized that someone was on her side, and she kept repeating ”Thank you!” My delivery got pretty long; hours went by, and I dilated very slowly. After about twelve hours, I asked them to give me something to make me dilate more quickly, but a young doctor that passed by said that there was no need for anything because the delivery was going just fine, and that it was natural. After another five hours, I thought that I was going to die. At one moment, a nurse started to yell at me: “… (my last name), stop screaming!” I wasn’t “screaming” all that much. She wanted to be a bit stricter with me, I don’t know; by that time she was quite pleasant, and the other nurses were ok. I just couldn’t dilate enough to start the final part of the delivery, and they were adamant not to help me. My doctor wasn’t around; he was away on a trip. Although, he did phone to check how the delivery was going. When I was finally dilated enough, the nurses hopped up, stirred and we ran together to the delivery room (I was hopping). I gave birth in 10 minutes and just kept saying “Thank you, thank you!”. The unbearable pain was gone, and I was immensely grateful to God that he didn’t take me, and to the nurses who helped me. They brought me my mobile phone which I left in the delivery room so I could call my husband. The doctor on call wasn’t there for the delivery. The young doctor came ten minutes later and started to suture me; it hurt really badly even though I received anesthesia, so I objected to it, to what she retorted quite rudely “What is it?!” My gynecologist appeared in a short while, kissed me and told me I was a hero. I held my baby an hour later, so my love and I were together for the next hour while I had to stay on the delivery table. The room where they placed me had two beds, it was bright and pleasantly coloured and the meds were comfortable. Until that year, this kind of accommodation was called a suite, given that it had a very nice bathroom. Now, every woman who gives birth can enjoy this surrounding free of charge. No more cracked windows; the windows are now new and they have curtains! That May, a semi baby friendly program was in force; the babies were with their mothers from early morning hours until evening, and I was overjoyed. I really needed the rest. I have to remark that they didn’t change the bed sheets, not even once. A nurse regularly came to see me because I couldn’t urinate; first I had a catheter, and then she asked me to do it myself. After a lot of hardship, I succeeded. The problem occurred when it came to nursing; I didn’t know how, and my baby screamed. Only fifteen minutes later did we establish a connection. It happened this way every time. Sometimes a doctor would come along and help me, but I was mostly on my own. Two days later, we were discharged. As you can see, there is some negligence, but things are looking up. The young Roma girl wasn’t treated like my by all the nurses, but when she had her ultrasound, the doctor held out his hand as she was getting up and held her robe for her, as he would every lady. Very gentleman-like. |
STORIES FROM MATERNITY WARDS Mama-Kangaroo 002
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