(Page 94) I call Francis and say that this situation feels funky to me. Melissa’s baby feels big, is a frank breech and is going nowhere. He agrees that we should probably mosey over to Merrimack Valley Hospital. We needn’t rush, as she isn’t in good established labor anymore. I explain to Melissa and Eric that we are probably looking at a cesarean section, as that is the standard of care in this case. They say they are amenable to this if it is in the best interest of their child. They seem in good spirits and Eric lovingly helps his wife get dressed for the trip. Upon arriving at MVH, I learn that Dr. McKinney is out of town and Dr. Easey is on-call. I get that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach again. I know we are deeply in for it this time. The staff knows we are an attempted home birth transfer. My worst fears are confirmed when Dr. Bacon, the anesthesiologist, comes brusquely into the room and tells Eric that he will have to leave, that husbands are not allowed to accompany their wives in the Operating Room. Damn! I’ve forgotten that Merrimack has that stupid, antiquated policy. I say to the gas man, “Surely you can be flexible and make an exception in this case?” Dr. Bacon clenches his teeth and hisses, “You people are all trouble makers, coming in here with your ridiculous demands. The next thing you know, husbands will want to be with their wives for their gallbladder operations!” Eric says in a quiet, trembling voice, “Please, Doctor, this isn’t a gallbladder…this is my child, my baby! I have to be with my wife when she has our baby…I promised her I wouldn’t leave her alone in this no matter what, that I wouldn’t abandon her. This is our birth together. You must understand, I have to be there when Melissa has our baby!” Eric’s eyes are brimming with tears. He is distraught. The anesthesiologist straightens up imperiously and strides out of the room. I feel helpless and terrible. “I’m sorry, Eric. It looks like you two are going to be separated after all.” Eric stands up suddenly, walks out of the room and across the hall. “Uh oh, I know that look”, is all Melissa says. When Eric comes back into the room a few minutes later, he has something in his hands that I instantly recognize. It is the same leather handcuff that I had been tied down with during Milan’s birth. Eric puts the cuff around his wife’s wrist, then around his own and buckles it tight. There is a slight flicker of defiance in his gentle face. “This may be only symbolic, but I’m not removing this handcuff no matter what.” The nurse in attendance gasps and scurries out of the room, in search of someone with authority, I assume. “Mother of God”, I mutter, “This is going to be a humdinger.” Next in is my man, Dr. Easey. He is clearly furious. He strides over to the bound couple and fairly shouts. “Stop this this minute! Stop this ridiculous nonsense! Every minute you waste with your immature stubbornness, YOU ARE KILLING YOUR BABY! Doesn’t it even matter to you that you’re jeopardizing your baby’s health for your own selfish benefit? This is akin to child abuse!” Eric and Melissa’s mouths drop open. Dr. Easey whirls back out of the room. (~from LADYS HANDS, LIONS HEART, A MIDWIFES SAGA, Bad Beaver Publishing, 2010)
Posted on: Mon, 15 Sep 2014 10:39:48 +0000