Jerusalem — Oh the trials and tribulations we Zionist women endure to ensure that the Jewish people go forth and multiply in the Holy Land, or, more specifically, in the Jewish nation’s capital.
Not only are we under constant pressure to increase the Jewish population in our disputed land, but the process we must go through to achieve that is definitely harder than that faced by our Jewish sisters (and sisters in general) elsewhere.
As you may be able to tell, I have reached the point in my second pregnancy where I am starting to worry about the birth itself. And I have realized, to my dismay, that not only do I have to concern myself with all the things outlined in various scary self-help guides to the nine-month journey to life — where to give birth, to go natural or use drugs, whether my baby will be healthy, whether the labor will be too long or too quick or problematic or smooth — but I also have to worry about the increasing problems faced by the Jewish nation in the land of Israel.
These challenges are two-fold. The first, and perhaps more trivial, is a common one in our tiny country — space. In Jerusalem, a city of ever-growing haredi (ultra-Orthodox) and Arab families, there seems to be a severe lack of birthing facilities.
With only four hospitals to choose from in a city of more than one million residents and an exploding birth rate, there is simply not enough room to give birth (or do anything else really) comfortably. The hospital where I gave birth to my son is a prime example.
Hadassah Hospital Ein Kerem, a stunning facility in the picturesque hills of Jerusalem, has state-of-the-art equipment and some of the best doctors and midwives around.
However, designers of the new mother and baby wing seem to have overlooked one important detail when they built the place a few years ago — rooms. It seems hard to believe, but most women who opt to give birth there are forced to spend the hours after labor recuperating in the hallway until a room and a comfortable bed are free. Sometimes the hospital is so full that staff have to send women in labor to another hospital across town.
Prospects at the other city hospitals are not much better. Bikur Holim, situated downtown, is the most historic of the four health facilities. Unfortunately, the antique interior does not seem to have been remodeled since it was built in the early days of the state (and the staff do not seem to have changed either).
Sha’are Zedek’s maternity wing has just been renovated and would be perfect except for one of this country’s other major issues — religion. While the place is suitable for more observant families, this enormous hospital has decided that the hours of intense labor are the best time to put the secular half of the nation back on track. In other words, the doctor in charge decides whether a devoted husband is allowed to be present for the birth at all.
The fourth option is Ein Kerem’s rival Hadassah hospital located on Mount Scopus. With two Arab villages hostile to the nation of Israel on either side of it, this hospital is not currently the ideal logistical location to bring a future Jewish soldier into this world.
Of course, no one can blame Israeli hospitals for not updating or expanding their operations. Most of their resources and extra cash are spent on enhancing emergency services and methods of treating the numerous victims of terrorist attacks. In this respect, they have done an excellent job.
That brings me to the second problem faced by future mothers in Israel — war.
Though I sit in my beautiful house nestled peacefully in the Jerusalem hills and pretend that things here are wonderful, a flick of the TV remote or radio dial reminds me in a second of the miserable prospect of war.
Ah, it’s a guerilla warfare, you say; just stay out of the more ambiguous areas of Israel and you’ll be fine. However, according to the experts and Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, there will probably be a “real” war here sometime in May or June if the Unites States decides to fight against terror in Iraq.
Whatever the reason that Saddam Hussein was let off the hook last time (something I’ve never understood), this round means that I, a Jewish woman in her sixth month of pregnancy, has to contemplate the ugly prospect of giving birth in a bomb shelter or a sealed room and practicing my Lamaze breathing technique wearing a gas mask.
It’s been done before, joked my neighbor last week, reminding me that there were numerous women who toughed out a birth during the Gulf War in 1991.
And now that I am a privileged member of this long suffering nation, I have no choice but to put on a brave smile and joke about this increasingly likely possibility.
However, if the truth be told, deep down inside of me there is a little British girl (with American trimmings) waiting to burst out. And she’s dealing with a mother obviously suffering from pregnancy’s paranoia and hormonal dysfunction. But while my friends in the diaspora worry about the things described in those child-birth books, I now have to consider the possibility of a terrifying war siren setting off my labor.
Still, on the bright side (and this must be my Israeli side speaking), many hospital departments tend to be less crowded during a war. And if I manage by some miracle to make it to the hospital (lucky for me it’s only a five-minute drive), then at least I should be able to get a room!
Former Chronicle assistant editor Ruth Eglash lives in Mevasserat Zion and is the arts and entertainment editor of the Jerusalem Post.
Loading ...