What is it - premature to give birth on vacation in Dubai
'04.07.2018'
Source: The devochki
There is a separate universe on instagram, where pumped up buttocks, baby heels and huge pregnant bellies come together, writes Valeria Kvasnevskaya especially for The devochki. Veganism, a barbell and tens of thousands of blind followers of maternal popularity peep there. Stunning moms with chiseled waists tenderly extort hundreds of gigabytes of our trust. Light, like a butterfly stroke, squats during pregnancy, happy flights with three children live, home birth with a personal photographer - it may seem that this has nothing to do with your life.
So I thought when I booked a five-hour flight with a child, being in the seventh month of pregnancy. The warnings of relatives and the doctor were poboku: "Well, others are flying, and everything is fine." Just when I landed, I became a blogger who talked about the beautiful places in Dubai, took pictures of a pregnant profile, followed the spreading outlines, and mentally added a fresh thousand subscribers.
All this added confidence that I, too, can stand on my head and test creams for stretch marks. In the evening I went to an amusement park and dutifully put up a post about it. She told thirsty subscribers about which hills to ride, which water park to go to, which trampoline to jump on, and after five hours my waters broke and bleeding began. In a foreign, Muslim and very expensive country - each of these characteristics is important in this text. And now about everything in order.
When you run off of water, especially with blood - this is the end. The end of pregnancy, dreams of partner childbirth and just the total end of the plan prescribed for parenting courses. The first thought that came to mind at the sight of blood in the seventh (recall) month: "I am not ready." Not ready to give birth, to see a new person, to feel pain. But it turned out that this was not the main obstacle on this path, and the path was already irreversible.
In Dubai, you can not give birth without a husband. If the woman has no marriage certificate with her, the clinic has the right not to accept her, despite the contractions. To give birth in the country of Sharia, not being married, is a criminal offense. And now we are returning to my reality, where 7 is in the morning, fights, near the eldest child, not a single Russian-speaking person and, naturally, the absence of any documents about marriage. At first I thought it was a joke or a pure formality, but no. Despite the contractions and the growing pain in the crotch, we had to call the owner of a rented apartment in Kiev, ask him to come, open an apartment, find a certificate there, scan a document and send it to the clinic. Otherwise - prison. No “I will carry you later” or a jar to Nescafe in the package.
In the Emirates, it is not only impossible to be pregnant and give birth outside of marriage, but also to have an abortion is strictly prohibited. That is, if you happen to have an unforeseen pregnancy, you fall into the trap: either leave the country for an abortion, or get married quickly (which is most likely almost unreal). But to my question what to do if a Muslim girl was raped, nobody answered me like that.
All doctors are women. If there is a man in the clinic, then he has nothing to do with gynecology, the maximum is an anesthesiologist or pediatrician. If a man wants to enter the ward, a nurse will run in front of you and ask if such a doctor can come in, cover you with a curtain and curtains so that, God forbid, passing drivers do not see you, naked, in hospital clothes. At first it was strange, then funny.
An important difference between our country and the United Arab Emirates is all insured. Even a fly flying past the windows of the hospital will know that it can be served in an expensive clinic for insurance. When I said that I did not have a policy (the tourist policy, as you understand, does not cover preterm birth), they looked at me as if I were a starving child of Africa, I was in a golden country and lost. By the way, this was the second of the reasons why we were reluctant to be admitted to the patrimonial chamber: "It is from Veri eksprivshchen form."
Unfortunately, the question was an edge: either now we are giving birth or losing one of two things (mother or child), so there was no time to leave and look for a place with a more loyal approach - I was in a state of shock and with very frequent contractions were taken to the operating room.
And this is where the paradise of medicine began. After the maternity hospital in Borschagovka, my unintelligent mind tried to absorb everything that he had seen. New, beautiful operating room, despite the fact that there will be. An anesthesiologist who hugs and soothes, but does not scream. The surgeon, who now and then repeats: "Hamdullya, dear, Hamdulialya." Something is injected into my back, and I slowly float into the country without pain and anxiety. I do not sleep, I understand that something is being done with the stomach: either it is rubbed with ice, or it is shaved. The brain draws pictures from the movie “Anesthesia”, where the person felt everything, being in general anesthesia, but could not tell the doctors about it.
“Stop! Anesthesia did not work, I feel how you walk along the stomach! ”- my husband grabbed my hand, squeezed tightly, and I just heard:“ Darling, we cut it long ago ”. A few minutes later I saw my little, twisted, but, thank God, screaming daughter. Next time I will see her only after three days - and then in the intensive care box.
To say that none of us had feelings of joy - to say nothing. Loss, fear, desire to wake up - yes. Happiness from the fact that a new person came to our world, everyone somehow ... forgot, perhaps. Later, I read several stories of women who gave birth much earlier than they were due — they all repeated my words. Guilt eats up, pregnant photos want to quickly remove from the phone, and everything seems insignificant compared to what could have happened if: if they had not had time to do the operation, if they hadn’t gone on vacation, if they had given birth naturally. And hundreds more “if” will haunt me for a very long time.
Price number one - 14 thousand dollars per transaction. For this money, of course, you don’t worry at all about anything - resuscitation is more than comfortable, everywhere there are nursing call buttons and a bed control panel. Droppers transferred to the electronic system. That is, not an inverted can, glued with a plaster on a tin stick. Each nursing mother has two nurses who are not distracted by anyone else. The ward is not just a TV, but also Wi-Fi, four meals a day without beetroot and pasta, but with fresh juices, steaks, fish and puddings, a shower with a set of cosmetics, a sofa for guests, a view of the Burj Khalifa, after all. All this could make someone very happy, "if only to give birth in time."
What happens to the child at this moment? Babies born before the 32 week cannot yet have their lungs functioning on their own - this is the main problem of prematurity. There was no talk of attachment to the chest: the daughter could not breathe on her own, which means that she received food only through a special tube into the stomach. In addition, because of the entry of air into the box, the kids have problems with their eyesight, hearing, and much more that I had to read about while lying in the “golden” chamber.
I really wanted to find someone who would say: "Everything will be fine." But no one said that.
Price number two - a thousand dollars a day for the maintenance of the child. Emma stayed in intensive care for exactly 14 days. Every day, two nannies and one doctor are assigned to the child near the hood. In our maternity hospitals there is no such thing. Unlike Ukraine, I didn’t worry at all about hurting her. There was a clear confidence that the doctors would do everything right, it remains only to believe in the strength of the baby. Not to mention the global differences, in a Dubai clinic, a child is given out clothes, diapers, bottles for expressing mother’s milk without any problems, no one keeps a tough record and does not ask for additional shoe covers. “Of course, for a thousand dollars a day,” you think. And you will be right.
The main question is what to do? Nothing. You have no choice. You need to look for money at any cost: take loans, borrow from acquaintances, make posts on social networks, otherwise you will not just not be let out of the country, but, most likely, will be sent to prison. How can this happen to a woman who has just given birth? Allah did not warn.
During these two weeks, we experienced a total fall and dozens of small victories and exits from darkness: the first 30 grams of weight, the first decrease in air supply, the first attempt to remove the tube from the nose (it will go back to the old point and a new disappointment). But the most enchanting feeling is, of course, the first physical contact. Only 10 days later I was allowed to take my daughter in my arms. Do not feed, do not kiss, do not hug, but just hold for a few minutes on your hands.
Lack of access to your child is the most severe punishment that can be invented for a woman. The heaviest stitches after cesarean section, uterine contraction, milk flow and chest pain are all so intangible compared to looking at your crimson baby who has to fight for life in a plastic box.
Returning to Kiev, I arrived at a scheduled inspection in the capital perinatal center. I encountered a woman in the reception at the entrance with a pleasant baritone and realized: “I am at home”. The head of the department of newborns told an interesting story: a month ago a woman came to them in the sixth month. I flew with my husband from a Muslim country: either Turkey or Egypt. Bore deeply premature twins, stayed with them for two weeks and ... flew back home, leaving the children in the box for ventilation. Because here it is free and does not lead to any consequences, except for moral torments. At home - a shame.
Do you know why I decided to tell this story? Because once I looked at a pregnant traveler on the background of the Balinese sunsets and was also torn to go. I did not believe in the warnings of doctors and relatives. I wanted to prove that I was breathing deeply and did not fall out of rhythm at all. Only here it is important to remember that everyone has their own rhythm and musical beat. In the photo on social networks, subscribers might think that I am the daughter of an oligarch and went to give birth in a country of dreams. But in fact, I was unconsciously playing a “travel-blogger blogger”. At the cost of his daughter's life.
