Day 232 - I Have a Lesson That I Must Impart To You

So, at last, the other ante-natal class.

There were about eight couples there, I think. One couple hadn't turned up and I'm sure I wasn't alone in wondering if something awful might have happened to them. I expect they just forgot, but they weren't answering their phone either. R___, our trainer (for want of a better word) was a right old hippy in tie-dye loon pants and a t-shirt with cute fluffy animal things on the front.

Although - for I hope obvious reasons - much of what we discussed was very similar to the other group, we seemed to bond much faster and people felt comfortable making jokes, asking questions whenever they came up and chatting to each other. Part of it, I think, was simply that it was much less formal, and you felt free to wonder off and get a drink or go to the loo without feeling like you were bring naughty. It helped that R___ was happy to digress from whatever she was discussing to cover anything that was asked.

We were encouraged to swap emails and it was impressed upon us that we were likely to stay in contact with the other mums and dads in the group long after our babies had arrived. Next Saturday, we're all bringing in a main and a pudding each and we'll have a communal lunch.

I suspect people will bring far, far too much and have to take lots home again.

One thing that was new to me concerned medical intervention. You are encouraged to write a 'Birth Plan' that outlines what you would like to happen during your birth. This is partly,I think, because it focusses your mind and gets you to think about the many choices before you (for example: episiotomy or tear, who should cut the umbilical cord, do you hope to use a birthing stool, what pain relief do you wish to have) but it does provide a rather handy aide memoir during the labour itself. However, it holds no legal weight. You cannot be compelled to do something because you have written it in the Birth Plan.

As long as she is mentally competant, a mother has the right to determine what happens to her during her pregnancy and birth. The baby, incidentally, has no rights whatsoever prior to birth.

Let's say that something goes awry during the birth and for some reason, the mother is unable to indicate her choice. Who would you say is the next person with the capacity to make a decision about the mother's treatment? Might it be her husband or partner, perhaps? Nope. Not even a husband, someone with a legally enshrined relationship, has the right to give or refuse consent for treatment on the mother's behalf. The right passes to a doctor.

A few years back there were a number of high profile cases in the UK where mothers were sectioned because they didn't want to go along with the doctor's suggestions. In one case, the mother was adamant that she didn't want a ceasarean section. The doctor felt this wasn't the correct line to take and got the hospital to apply to have her sectioned. By all accounts the Justice of the Peace didn't bother finding out whether the mother was mentally competant, but just signed it. The ceasarian duly followed. Hot on the tail of that was an enormous fuck-off law suit from the mother. The judge awarded serious amounts of moolah to the mother and quite rightly so. (I'm not entirely sure what the objection to a C-section was; it may have been on a religious basis, in which case I am duty bound to find it hard to agree with her views, but nevertheless, having religion is not yet recognised as an incapacitiating illness.)

Now, I'm sure that any doctors we might be unfortunate enough to encounter - I say 'unfortunate' because as home birth is K___'s intention, there shouldn't be any doctors involved - will act in the best interests of both mother and child. But what if they didn't? I can see that there are good reasons why partners don't get the right to choose what happens to their other halfs, but I can see equally as many why they should get to.

Hmmm.