It ain't at all fashionable to sympathize with the Labor Party in Hungary today. As a matter of fact, favoring any party or membership in any immediately puts you in people's bad-box. Americans at least have an easy solution to avoid conflict with foreigners. They just say: "Ugh, Bush?! Can't stand the look of him." - and they are carried round on the shoulders of their new friends anywhere in the world. (Well, good job, they are...) But Hungarians are very hard-necked folks, they are not easy to please. The safest option probably is to hate every single politician and their parties. They are not good enough for a brilliant nation like us. We all know that - but God only knows how those guys got into the parliament then!
But this labor party I'm writing about is not what you think. It's one of the greatest experience one can have, an awesome group with the most admirable agenda ever. It's the circle where past embraces the future, where much blood is shed but wonderous victories are gained. Forget about politics. I'm talking about the women in the delivery room.
I was on a day-shift as a trainee midwife when a lovely young woman - let's call her Joy - was admitted to the delivery room. She was cheerfully plodding behind an enormous belly. Instead of timidly looking around and groaning quietly - as well-behaved women in labor are expected -, she started waving wildly to a lady in the far back: "My waters broke just now, amazing, isn't it?" (Now, it's not unusual to come into contact with slightly retarded people at a regional state hospital, so I had a quick glance at the documentation to see if there was anything in the case history about phychotic episodes or such. There was nothing, so I accepted her seemingly inadequate emotional outburst as a physiological variation.) It turned out that they were old friends, and had attended a birth club together - with the third woman, just emerging from under the shower...
Just then the doorbell went, and a tall pregnant woman entered, smilingly greeting the others - by name! I was astonished. "My sister-in-law" - Joy explained. - "Hey, gals, we can have a labor party!"
(All four labors went okay, with no complication at delivery. The babies were born two and two with a couple of hours difference. The mothers all agreed, that it was the most exciting and satisfying party they had ever had.)
But this labor party I'm writing about is not what you think. It's one of the greatest experience one can have, an awesome group with the most admirable agenda ever. It's the circle where past embraces the future, where much blood is shed but wonderous victories are gained. Forget about politics. I'm talking about the women in the delivery room.
I was on a day-shift as a trainee midwife when a lovely young woman - let's call her Joy - was admitted to the delivery room. She was cheerfully plodding behind an enormous belly. Instead of timidly looking around and groaning quietly - as well-behaved women in labor are expected -, she started waving wildly to a lady in the far back: "My waters broke just now, amazing, isn't it?" (Now, it's not unusual to come into contact with slightly retarded people at a regional state hospital, so I had a quick glance at the documentation to see if there was anything in the case history about phychotic episodes or such. There was nothing, so I accepted her seemingly inadequate emotional outburst as a physiological variation.) It turned out that they were old friends, and had attended a birth club together - with the third woman, just emerging from under the shower...
Just then the doorbell went, and a tall pregnant woman entered, smilingly greeting the others - by name! I was astonished. "My sister-in-law" - Joy explained. - "Hey, gals, we can have a labor party!"
(All four labors went okay, with no complication at delivery. The babies were born two and two with a couple of hours difference. The mothers all agreed, that it was the most exciting and satisfying party they had ever had.)
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