Life altering terminations

 

Worked in admissions this week and came across one too many abortion cases. I have already witnessed two or three ‘terminations’ since being here. I’m not sure what types of abortions they offer at this hospital, but I’ve only seen them done for women whose pregnancies was less than 26 weeks gestation. (Not sure if they perform late-term abortions). They induce labor by injecting a fluid into her uterus and she delivers the baby (who has a very poor chance of survival) vaginally. They basically just leave the baby to die on its own. Abortion happens A LOT here... It’s very possible that it happens just as frequently in places like Tanzania, but it’s not as evident or noticeable because it isn’t legalized like it is in India.

At GMH every woman receives at least one sonogram or ultrasound during her antenatal visits. It is against the law in India to reveal the sex of the baby to the mother, because gender based abortion has been a major problem.  To say that being a woman in India is difficult would be a gross understatement. They are practically a caste of their own. Receiving very little value or respect, women hope and pray to have male babies and their feelings of disappointment and sadness are quite evident when they find out that they have, unfortunately, given birth to a girl. On the other hand, there is the contrast of a delighted mother’s face as she rejoices over the news that she has been blessed with a baby boy.

Every woman’s story is so different. Monitored a woman with severe pre-eclampsia for a couple of days this week. Her name was Sushila. Because of the severity of her condition, it wasn’t really a matter of if she would start fitting as much as when. At which point, both she and the baby could lose their lives. I think she was about 24 weeks pregnant. Her husband was in and out of the room. They had decided together, against the doctors recommendations and pleading, not to terminate the pregnancy. That was on Wednesday. When I returned on Thursday I watched as one of the male doctors went over to the couple with the box in his hand that held the dreadful yellow substance used to induce pre-term labor and terminate pregnancies. They spoke in either Hindi or Telagu, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out what was happening. He basically demanded that the husband come to the admissions desk to sign the necessary consent forms to allow them to perform the potentially life-saving procedure of terminating his wife’s pregnancy. The following events were agony to witness. The husband looked absolutely devastated and heartbroken as he signed the papers, looking back across the room at his very confused and emotional wife. I couldn’t help but feel like she was being forced or coerced. At the same time though, it was vital for her survival –and if her condition had been allowed to progress, the baby would almost certainly have lost his/her life –not to mention her own.

The day before all of this happened, I met a young girl named Monika. She was 15 years old and couldn’t have weighed more than 80lbs. When I first came across her I remember thinking that she was close to dying because of how emaciated and sickly she looked. I asked about her case and with very little detail a doctor told me she was unmarried, primigravida, and 3 months pregnant. She was waiting to have an abortion. He emphasized that she was unmarried and that it was a legal case, which meant that the head madam was the only person with access to her paperwork and there were police coming in and out of the room. I’m not entirely sure if it was a legal situation because of her age and possibly the need to have a number of people provide consent for the procedure –or, if it was the less overt way of saying she had been raped, which I’m quite certain she had been. She didn’t look pregnant at all.  In fact, her abdomen was concave in appearance when she lay on her back. I overheard other small details as the hospital staff would pass her and discuss her case amongst themselves. Everyone was very hush hush and secretive about the details. The reason they gave for her desire/need to have an abortion, was the fact that she had back problems. My heart broke for her. She spoke a little bit of English, but was too terrified to say very much to me. Her mum was in and out of the room, taking very good care of her daughter and obviously quite concerned about her condition. Every 30 minutes I would go back to check on her vitals. Her pulse was over 120 bpm (normal range for an adult is 80-100) and her blood pressure was way below normal and hardly audible when I tried to listen. I spent quite a bit of time with her on Wednesday and Thursday. I didn’t really understand why she had to keep waiting and waiting. When I left on Thursday she had been transferred to a bed in the hallway. On Friday I went back with Rachel to see if she was still there. She was in the exact same spot that I had last seen her in. We went over and asked if she was still waiting for her operation. Her dedicated and beautiful mum was still sitting with her, making sure she was well taken care of. Monika explained, in clear English, that she was finished having her abortion and was waiting until tomorrow to be discharged. She said, “Operation over, baby two months.” She was obviously in a tremendous amount of pain. We sat on her bed and asked her a few questions. Was the operation painful? Where does she live and go to school, if she likes to play sports, what she wants to do when she’s older… She told us a bit about her family, said that she loves to play cricket and that she hopes to go to school for engineering. She agreed to let us pray for her and we left her with some fruit. Her mum insisted on helping us carry our bags outside and stayed with us until we found a rickshaw to take us home. I wish I had taken a picture with them, but I got their phone number so we will hopefully get to see her again. We rode home in the pouring rain and pelting hail.