| Page 2 of 5 < > |
Iraq's Woes Are Adding Major Risks To Childbirth
Amira Saeed tends to daughter-in-law Noor Ibrahim after her emergency Caesarean section at al-Jarrah Hospital in Baghdad.
(By Naseer Nouri -- The Washington Post)
TOOLBOX
   Resize
COMMENT
 Discussion Policy
 CLOSE
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
Who's Blogging  |
Ibrahim decided to bear the pain until morning rather than drive in the dark. At 3 a.m., her water broke. It was still too dark to go out. Once the sun rose, she, her husband and her mother-in-law drove to the public hospital in Madain.
When they arrived, there was no obstetrician and no anesthesiologist, Saeed recalled. A surgeon had just been kidnapped and the doctors refused to go to work. That left the nurses to deliver Ibrahim's baby.
For several hours, Ibrahim pushed. But her baby was big and she got tired. The nurses used forceps to try to pull him out. When that didn't work, they told her to go to another hospital, Saeed said.
The family decided to go to al-Jarrah, a private hospital in the Karrada district of Baghdad. The ambulance driver refused to take them into the capital, even after they offered to pay him, Saeed said.
Ibrahim, her husband and Saeed got back into their own car. They drove for 30 minutes, past several checkpoints, as Ibrahim's baby struggled to break free from her pelvis.
An Exodus of Doctors
One of al-Jarrah's most experienced obstetricians carries a pistol to work.
She has received three death threats. Her ultrasound machine has been stolen. She agreed to speak to a reporter only if her name were not used because, she said, she feared for her life.
"I came here to serve my people," said the Iraqi-born and London-educated doctor, who wears a purple hijab, or head covering, and green scrubs when delivering babies.
According to a December 2006 report by the Washington-based Brookings Institution, 34,000 physicians were registered in Iraq before the 2003 U.S.-led invasion. Since then, about 12,000 have fled and 2,000 have been killed, it said.
At al-Jarrah, two doctors have been kidnapped and killed. Two were kidnapped and released. Three have left Baghdad. Thirteen remain on staff.
"It's a campaign to drain the country," said Aviad Najeed, a surgeon at al-Jarrah. "A very, very well-organized one. We don't know who's behind it."
Sitting in their lounge, a windowless room with lockers and leather chairs, four doctors at al-Jarrah talked about the hope they had after the invasion. They recalled buying oranges and flowers to greet U.S. troops. They thought the Americans would bring the best technology and medicines.
