I have heard countless stories concerning child birth, but just as each woman is different, so is the experience behind each pregnancy. I have never envisioned a traumatic and fatal ending to my pregnancy. I had no idea that I was going to tell a story that speaks of immeasurable emotional pain. The day before my misfortune, I telephoned my doctor about the cramps I was feeling in my stomach. As any good doctor would, I was told to come to the office. Knowing that I was about to enter the last trimester of my pregnancy, there was no way I wanted to put the life of my unborn nor myself in jeopardy so I went to the doctor's office that day. "Doctor, am I going into preterm labour?" I clearly asked. "Is my baby coming down...? It seems as if the cramps are coming at a regular pattern." The good doctor told me to lie down so that he could examine me. Only my abdomen was examined, my baby's heartbeat was checked and then the comforting revelation was made. "You have a mild bladder infection.
Take the antibiotics and painkillers that I am going to prescribe, drink lots of coconut water and you will be fine," the good medical expert said. The good doctor never did an internal exam to monitor my cervix, which one was concerned about at the start of the pregnancy, nor was a urine test (or any other test) done to confirm that a bladder infection actually existed. The question of whether blood was in my urine and other pertinent questions were never asked, but I do recall hearing the question, "Are you urinating more often than before?" An intelligent question to ask a woman carrying a six-month-old foetus. The confidence I had in my doctor superseded the instinct I had that something problematic was about to happen. So I took my antibiotics, called my boyfriend to assure him that the baby was not coming down as I previously thought and then rested. The next day I called the good doctor again to inform him that I was bleeding lightly. The reassurance came again that what I saw was a "normal part of a bladder infection."
A couple hours after, I felt a sharp pain, and then a little girl that I chose to call Hope on the spur of the moment descended from my birth canal at my home. I stood there on the spot, too shocked to move but somewhat managing to muster the strength that allowed me to look to the sky and cry, "Hope, Oh God, Hope." At the hospital I saw a baby who fought for life. Weak and still traumatised by the incident, I lumbered to my baby's side, touched her tiny hand and silently prayed, before they carried her to Trinidad hours after. The stage of her development (too little to breathe on her own etc), the absence of a completed hospital in rural Tobago, the lack of a neonatal intensive care unit at the Scarborough Hospital, the lengthy time a helicopter takes to arrive in Tobago were among the factors working against her that day. Nevertheless, God saw her distress and my pain, extended his arms and lovingly took her the following day. A heartfelt thank you I say to the doctors and nurses who attended to Baby Hope and me on that day. At the same time, I appeal to the good doctor and to all medical practitioners to ensure that whatever you do is in alignment with good medical practice.
Listen to your patients well, educate them and do not operate on the assumption that they should know, keep upgrading your skills; continue to learn, do the necessary tests before administering medication, do not abandon the values (passion, commitment, integrity, diligence, fairness etc) for the value (the money), and remember that you are duty bound to help sick people and not to harm them. Good doctor, I judge you not. To the powers that be, I call upon you to do what is necessary to improve the healthcare on the island. I, and by extension most Tobagonians, have been waiting impatiently to see the completion of the "state of the art" medical facilities, with trained, competent staff at all levels. Mothers and mothers to be, if you suspect that something is wrong, trust your instinct and pray fervently. To all who have lost a loved one, take comfort in the words of God and know that "when God takes something from your grasp, He is not punishing you but preparing you to receive something better."
To God be the glory!