Monday 3rd November 2008
On Monday, I spent the day at the maternity ward of the hospital where I work. I was mainly there to learn about the ‘Prevention of Mother to Child Transmission’ (PMTCT) work that they do there. PMTCT programmes aim at reducing the probability of transmission of HIV from positive mothers to their children. This can be done by encouraging mothers to get voluntarily tested and learn what their HIV status is (though now this is more or less compulsory in Zambia). If mothers are tested as positive they are advised to start taking Anti Retro Viral (ARV) drugs in order to reduce the likelihood of their child being born positive and of course improve their health and delay the onset of AIDS. Other measures to reduce transmission to the child involve a post exposure course of drugs given to the infant and reduction if not complete substitution of breast feeding as the virus can be transmitted from the mother’s milk into the infant’s bloodstream through cuts and soars in the mouth.
After spending the morning learning about the HIV/AIDS work done at the maternity ward, I was invited to observe activities in the labour ward. The first procedure that I was able to observe was an ‘evacuation’. This was a procedure carried out on a young woman of 23 years. I was not quite sure what it was that I was observing but I saw the doctor remove something from the woman’s uterus – a 2 inch long piece of what looked like flesh – it was the fetus. I later learned that an evacuation is basically carried out after a woman has had an abortion in order to clean out the uterus. I’m not quite sure what my views on abortion are, I do value the right to choose but still find myself uncomfortable with the idea of terminating pregnancy. However after having watched the procedure which can only be described as a brutal invasion of the female body, I would never ever want myself or any of my friends to end up in that situation (girls…seriously!). There is no way in which to exorcize the painful moans of that young woman from my mind but though she was in great despair, hers was not the only pain I witnessed that day. A few beds away, an expectant mother had gone into labour, she was now fully dilated and as the ‘evacuation’ patient began to recover from her trauma, this soon to be mother was just at the beginning of hers.
Her water broke, giving off a foul stench and many of the nurses suspected the baby had died. They were indeed right. At 3.16 pm I watched a mother deliver a still born child, with just the same amount of hope and with the same pains as any other mother. She had carried this child in her womb for 9 months, gone through all the tribulations of pregnancy but was not to be rewarded at the end. It was truly one of the saddest things I have ever seen. Post delivery, the mother experienced heavy bleeding and complications that I could no longer stand to watch. I waited outside for hours during which an expert surgeon was called in and the patient’s cries of anguish diminished to soft periodic moans. My day was done. I thought perhaps I should stick around to witness another delivery with the hope that it would be successful and therefore reassuring. I wanted for the most selfish reasons to be reminded of the joys of child birth, to see the sheer delight in a mother’s eyes when she catches the first glimpse of her baby. But I could not get my mind of the agony of that mother that wasn’t, so I called it a day.
On Monday, I spent the day at the maternity ward of the hospital where I work. I was mainly there to learn about the ‘Prevention of Mother to Child Transmission’ (PMTCT) work that they do there. PMTCT programmes aim at reducing the probability of transmission of HIV from positive mothers to their children. This can be done by encouraging mothers to get voluntarily tested and learn what their HIV status is (though now this is more or less compulsory in Zambia). If mothers are tested as positive they are advised to start taking Anti Retro Viral (ARV) drugs in order to reduce the likelihood of their child being born positive and of course improve their health and delay the onset of AIDS. Other measures to reduce transmission to the child involve a post exposure course of drugs given to the infant and reduction if not complete substitution of breast feeding as the virus can be transmitted from the mother’s milk into the infant’s bloodstream through cuts and soars in the mouth.
After spending the morning learning about the HIV/AIDS work done at the maternity ward, I was invited to observe activities in the labour ward. The first procedure that I was able to observe was an ‘evacuation’. This was a procedure carried out on a young woman of 23 years. I was not quite sure what it was that I was observing but I saw the doctor remove something from the woman’s uterus – a 2 inch long piece of what looked like flesh – it was the fetus. I later learned that an evacuation is basically carried out after a woman has had an abortion in order to clean out the uterus. I’m not quite sure what my views on abortion are, I do value the right to choose but still find myself uncomfortable with the idea of terminating pregnancy. However after having watched the procedure which can only be described as a brutal invasion of the female body, I would never ever want myself or any of my friends to end up in that situation (girls…seriously!). There is no way in which to exorcize the painful moans of that young woman from my mind but though she was in great despair, hers was not the only pain I witnessed that day. A few beds away, an expectant mother had gone into labour, she was now fully dilated and as the ‘evacuation’ patient began to recover from her trauma, this soon to be mother was just at the beginning of hers.
Her water broke, giving off a foul stench and many of the nurses suspected the baby had died. They were indeed right. At 3.16 pm I watched a mother deliver a still born child, with just the same amount of hope and with the same pains as any other mother. She had carried this child in her womb for 9 months, gone through all the tribulations of pregnancy but was not to be rewarded at the end. It was truly one of the saddest things I have ever seen. Post delivery, the mother experienced heavy bleeding and complications that I could no longer stand to watch. I waited outside for hours during which an expert surgeon was called in and the patient’s cries of anguish diminished to soft periodic moans. My day was done. I thought perhaps I should stick around to witness another delivery with the hope that it would be successful and therefore reassuring. I wanted for the most selfish reasons to be reminded of the joys of child birth, to see the sheer delight in a mother’s eyes when she catches the first glimpse of her baby. But I could not get my mind of the agony of that mother that wasn’t, so I called it a day.
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