Russia: Bloggers' Memories of Soviet Maternity Hospitals

Global Voices Online
Sunday, May 31, 2009

Last December, Sinisa Boljanovic translated a number of heartrending childbirth stories, written anonymously by Serbian women and posted on the "Mother Courage" award-winning site, launched and maintained by Serbian blogger Branka Stamenkovic/Krugolina Borup.

Earlier this month, LJ user germanych, a Russian blogger, asked his readers to share their experiences of giving birth in the Soviet Union. While Branka Stamenkovic's "Mother Courage" initiative is an attempt to change the situation for the better, the Russian blogger's goal has been to document a lesser-known chapter of the Soviet history.

In the initial post, he wrote (RUS):

[...] For some reason, I have an impression that Soviet nurses [...] treated women in labor as if it was wartime and the woman was having a baby from some SS officer. That is, with some hatred mixed with squeamishness. For no apparent reason. It was a strange thing to hear about, considering that in movies they were showing the opposite: when mother and child were leaving the maternity hospital, nurses were flying around them, all so kind, all smiles.

[...]

So here is a question to the women reading this blog: would you please share your impressions of the atmosphere that surrounded you in the Soviet maternity hospitals? [...]

The feedback that LJ user germanych received from his readers prompted him to write a follow-up post (RUS), in which he quoted over 20 bloggers, some of whom shared stories that were not their own but their female relatives' (a few comments were submitted by male bloggers). Below is a sampling from this collection.

vladimirgin:

When in 1984 mama was giving birth to my brother [...] it was horror-horror, according to her. [Medical staff] only began moving somewhat when she started yelling that she was a doctor, too, and would be able to find the right person at the [municipal health department] to whom to write an adequate complaint about them. If she hadn't yelled, my brother would have been likely to be stillborn (there were labor complications).

terkat:

Post-natal hygiene devices were the hospital's non-disposable cloth napkins squeezed between legs: for some reason, it was forbidden to wear panties :(((. No pantiliners were still non-existent then. This is something that I recall with horror... My negative memories of the maternity hospital are connected with hygiene devices.

shisho4ka:

We were also in a state of complete "pantylessness" - plus the worn-out and somewhat torn hospital dresses and gowns. It wasn't allowed to bring any underwear from home, and other things were not welcome, either. Slippers were also from the hospital, I guess. Family visitation was prohibited, of course. All new fathers were roaming outside, down below, calling their wives loudly. One (free) phone for the whole floor and huge lines to use it...

madlesha:

Winter of 1984. Leningrad. The Institute of Pediatrics. Terrible attitude, everyone talks arrogantly, everyone's busy. It was very cold, minus 25 Celcius [minus 13 Fahrenheit] outside. No hot water, relatives were not allowed to pass water-boilers for us. My mother sent a box of sugar for me, all of us in the room were secretly eating it. There were 12 of us in the room. No bathtub, the toilet was [in a very bad condition]. Scary to remember it...

greenbat:

1989, [Yaroslavl]. Because of painful labor, a woman threw up. A nurse was pushing a mop to her nose, yelling: "Clean after yourself!"... 1990, St. Petersburg. A tipsy nurse overturned a crib with newborns in it, as the shocked audience watched.

bormental_r:

Our first child died because the doctors didn't show up. My wife was screaming, and they'd come up and say: "That's okay, this is your first labor, this is nothing. Be patient, don't scream!" And when they got alarmed, it was too late. He was stillborn - intrauterine asphyxia. And when my wife, exhausted from crying, finally fell asleep, listless, a nurse woke her up - the child had to be given a name, for the paperwork. A stillborn child. And they woke her up for that and demanded that she name a dead child. Even now when I recall this, everything in me turns inside out. 1975, [Sverdlovsk]...

LJ user kialu, who had her child at the age of 18, shared a similarly horrifying experience and ended her comment with these words:

[...] For ten years, my son's birthday was for me the day of nightmarish memories. Fear and horror mixed with shame. I've gotten over it now. But my son is 16 now, and I haven't had it in me to have a second child - and will never do...

LJ user germanych also posted a few memories of those who had their children delivered abroad or more recently - "for comparison":

klepak:

The conditions at maternity hospitals have changed - children are not taken away, visitations are allowed, husbands are allowed to be present during birth, there are also individual birthing rooms, and a shower in every room.

***

michellemohn:

In Germany, I had a difficulty understanding why the obstetrician was so incredibly polite, careful and nice... Turns out, they treat all pregnant women like this...

Here is LJ user germanych's conclusion to this post:

[...] Judging by additional comments, [...] nothing has changed in many of today's Russian maternity hospitals since the [Soviet times] - same rudeness, dirt and torturing of the women [...]. But there is nothing surprising about it, because in state institutions of the Russian Federation the same contemptuous treatment of human beings still survives the way it was [in the Soviet times]. Basically, maternity hospitals are the die-hard bastions of [the Soviet system]. The newly-emerged commercial maternity hospitals somewhat solve the problem with the availability of normal, safe childbirth care. In general, I think that the global reforms in Russia should begin with [reform of] maternity hospitals.

And here is another follow-up post by LJ germanych, on the impact of the previous one:

[...] The post has generated the total of about a thousand comments and has spent a few days in the [Top 30 posts at Yandex Blogs portal]. Moreover, it was the #1 post for the whole day. [...] But this is not the main thing.

The main thing is that a number of readers have labeled me a very non-objective person, who has deliberately collected all kinds of dirt and thus provoked equally dirty comments. Like, those women who had an okay experience with Soviet maternity hospitals just didn't want to write comments at such a place.

Well, to prove that I am all for the all-inclusive objectivity, I've decided to take out comments from that very first post, which talk positively about Soviet maternity hospitals and arrange them into a separate post. And I'd like to see: will it make it into the top ranking? And what kinds of comments will it get? [...]

Here are just two of these "positive" comments:

vladimirgin:

When I was being delivered, the level of care was perfect - because the midwife and the doctor were my mother's friends. [...]

***

shisho4ka:

1990. [...] Normal impressions... [...] Medical staff acted in a correct way. Without rudeness, but without special love and care, either. In general, at that time I felt that I was lucky, had been expecting worse treatment...

In a yet another follow-up post, LJ user germanych summarized the results of his "balanced approach" blogging experiment:

As expected, the post about how good Soviet maternity hospitals were neither made it into the top ranking at Yandex, nor generated even a hundred comments. For some reason, there haven't been too many people ready to support the theory that all kinds of horrors written about Soviet maternity hospitals had nothing to do with reality. [...]

LJ user germanych also quoted this "positive" comment (that has since been deleted by its author), to emphasize what the Soviet system was really about:

I, too, cannot say anything bad about Soviet maternity hospitals, since my father-in-law was [a high-ranking Communist Party official]...

Former Soviet Union: 15 Years Since the August Coup

Global Voices Online
Saturday, August 19, 2006

Today is 15 years since the beginning of the events that some people consider (RUS) Russia's Orange Revolution - but which are better known as the August Putsch.

This year, on August 20 and 21, memorial services will be held in Moscow for Dmitry Komar, Ilya Krichevsky and Vladimir Usov, the three men who were crushed to death by tanks during street confrontations. On August 22, which is Russia's State Flag Day, there'll be a rally near the government building in Moscow, known as the White House.

LJ user labas (Igor Petrov) was one of the defenders of the White House in 1991. He wrote a piece for a newspaper shortly after the events, and, when 13 years later he was feeling nostalgic during the Orange Revolution in Ukraine, he posted parts of this old text (RUS) on his blog. Below is the translation:

PRESTO (August 20)

How many of us are here? [...] Fifty thousand, one hundred, five hundred? We are soaking wet under the nervous rain and we are warming up near small fires; we are crowding around the happy owner of a portable radio and we are stomping the revolutionary mud with our wet sneakers; we've gathered here to defend freedom, so long-awaited, so badly-needed [...].

Who are we? [...] The people, old and not so old, good, different, people who've suddenly gathered at this square and become what we really are. [Lots of] young people, and here's this 14-year-old guy who asked me for 2 kopecks to [make a call from a pay phone] and tell his relatives with pride: "I'm staying for the night here. Don't worry, ma, we are defending our Motherland." And this sweet feeling of unity, and being positive of our victory, despite it all, and yesterday's thoughts and worries are nothing to us now, [...] - and the already very familiar dirigible is greeting us from above with the tri-color [Russian, not Soviet] flag.

ALLEGRO (August 21)

The White House Radio:

"Attention. Aspecial edition. White House observers have noticed a group of young men with short hair and sports bags. Fifteen minutes ago, they poured into the ranks of the White House defenders. Watch out. There are KGB agents in disguise amongst you.

- Listen, - says my cordon neighbor, - let's stay in touch. If the need arises, we'll get together again.

The White House Radio:

"I think that the putschists have to be tried by a people's trial in Russia. Though it would be moral and ethical to give [Boris Pugo] away to the Baltics." (A voice from the crowd: "And [Dmitri Yazov] - to the students!")

We laugh. Gradually, the tension subsides. But no one goes away, and women keep carrying, carrying, carrying shopping bags, plastic bags, backpacks: "Where do we take the food to, guys?"

The White House Radio:

"Attention. If the saboteurs inside the White House block any of the rooms, those locked in will be breaking windows from the inside. This should serve as the signal for you."

- Listen, - the neighbor tells me, pointing to a gunman in police uniform, who is guarding Entrance #14 with us, - this is the first time I'm looking at a cop without getting annoyed...

I'm smiling. A black Volga drives up to the [dining hall set up inside a bus]. On the back seat, there is a heap of buckwheat.

...

ADAGIO (September 2)

It seems to me that all our fathers-victors aren't paying attention to one really important issue: yes, we've reached unity, but this unity is against, not for, something. We've been able to reject something together, but it doesn't mean we all aspire to positive deeds. No one can [miraculously] turn mourning into carnival, and carnival into construction.

Alas, my dear cordon neighbor, we will never be able to get together again. Soon, very soon, life will take us to different levels of the social ladder. And, unfortunately, there is a possibility that one day, in the new maelstrom of political craziness, we'll bump into the decisive, khaki-colored boys who were recently giving us trophy cigarettes near the White House - only suddenly they'll be at the other side of the barricades.

September 2, 1991

Belarus: Memories of the Soviet Past

Global Voices Online
Tuesday, June 6, 2006



LJ user aneta_spb, a St. Petersburg journalist, is posting vignettes with her memories of the Soviet years (RUS). Here's why:

As a result of heated discussions...

... on whether life in the USSR was good or bad...

I've decided to reminisce for myself. This will include memories about myself, my way of thinking and my perceptions - from that time.

In the USSR, I've spent my whole childhood, my whole youth and part of my maturity.

Additionally, I come from a family that has barely benefited from socialism - no free apartment (not even today), not even a motorcycle - and I'm not even talking about a car. I wasn't born in one of the capital cities - but 20 km from a regional center. My parents are from peasants, they are teachers. Didn't drink, didn't smoke. [...]

aneta_spb spent her childhood in the westernmost corner of the Soviet Union, at the Polish-Soviet border in western Belarus. Below is some of what she remembers of religion, Soviet rituals - such as the Little Octobrist and the Young Pioneer Organizations - and of everyday life (RUS):

Easter was always beautiful, and it [contributed to my multiple personality]. Also, there were two Easters, and people celebrated both - the "Russian" [Orthodox] Easter and the "Polish" [Catholic] one. For the Willow [Palm] Sundays people carried willow branches decorated with paper flowers. The flowers were homemade, of goffered paper, and I really wanted to learn how to make them, and I did learn it.

When bread vanished from the stores, people began to bake it by themselves. And for Easter, they invited you to their homes and treated you to this bread and white buns with poppy seed. We didn't have that at home. Mama used to always yell at father: "They all know how to steal, and you don't!"

And I used to really like the Polish girls. Even for school holidays (in elementary school only; they weren't allowed to later), they weren't wearing the octobrist-pioneer uniform, "white top-black bottom" - but had those amazing colorful outfits on, embroidered with sparkles and beads, or simply embroidered... I learned later that when papa had just begun teaching at school and the children had been sworn in as pioneers - they came without their [red] ties the following day. "But you are the Soviet children!" - "We aren't Soviet children, we are Polish children." But I don't remember any of it. Everyone wore ties and starlets.

Those starlets. For a long time, I thought that the octobrist star featured ... [poet Aleksandr] Pushkin as a child. Because [Vladimir] Lenin was bold...

Accidentally, I learned that they meant Volodya Ulyanov [Lenin].

Stars were of two types: made of aluminum and painted over - and the cooler ones, made of transparent red plastic with a built-in tiny photo of a boy with curly hair. [...]

Russia: Independence Day Surveys

Global Voices Online
Tuesday, June 13, 2006

One day after Russia marked its Independence Day, LJ user larinax - Ksenia Larina, Radio Ekho Moskvy host - found herself mystified by the results of a survey conducted on one of the Ekho shows (RUS):

[...] To the question "Where would you like to live? - In the Soviet Union or in today's Russia?" 62 (!!!) percent of the audience responded - in the Soviet Union. I find it incredible. And no nostalgia, and no protest against Putin will ever make me choose this road to darkness. I wonder if the internet voting will be different. It's a different audience, after all. Though young people, too, shock me by their delusional notion of the USSR. And no documentaries, no feature movies will ever convince them of the opposite. [...]

Here is the tiniest fraction of the responses that Larina's entry drew (139 so far):

daisy_gorgeous: I was both surprised and not by this percentage. But there used to be good things, too, Ksenia! I talked to a friend in the States the other day and he gave me a mathematical proof that, despite all the minuses of the structure of the USSR, despite the nonsense of [having to be like everyone else], etc., the idea made lots of sense. :) [...]

larinax: You know, there used to be this cartoon - bum-looking, emaciated Marx and Lenin are begging for money in the street. Marx tells Lenin dreamily: "But still, the idea was indeed pretty good!.."

[...]

elesin: Strange the figure isn't 95 percent. People want to be 20-30 years old, not 40-50. Everyone was younger in the USSR.

LJ user drugoi cites another survey whose results are even more mystifying (RUS). The survey was conducted by the Yuri Levada Center; 1,600 Russians, aged 18 and older, were surveyed in 128 cities and towns, 46 regions):

Six percent of the Russians expect Russia to win the World Cup in Germany.

These are some pretty high numbers, considering that Russia is not playing in the World Cup at all this year.

Below are some responses:

mikheich: And we expect Kazakhstan to win!!!)))

drugoi: I'm for Norwegians.

yulchataj: Since you're at it - TURKEY - FOREVER!!!

[...]

In one Astana backyard, there's a terribly moving graffiti on the drain pipe, still there from the previous World Cup: "Kazakhstan - Brazil 8:0"

deodan: Imagine: what if Russia does win!:)

lenkins: It's already won :)

quappa: Russia won't lose in a single game - isn't that victory?

[...]

duke-igthorn: Ireland - go go!

stormoff: This means that 6 percent of the Russians have a good sense of humor.

[...]

d-falcon: Russia is represented by only one person at the World Cup: V. Ivanov, a referee, we all place our hopes on him :-)

[...]

pechenie: In a way, our team has as many chances as it did during the previous World Cups.

And, finally, this response, most likely, sends the readers back to the Russia vs. Soviet Union survey:

radiocat: Not much. It would've been logical if 40-60 percent were expecting this - I'm judging by some other surveys.

Chernobyl: Letters Never Written

Global Voices Online
Wednesday, April 26, 2006

LJ user wall4 - originally from Lviv, Ukraine, now living in Connecticut - writes about his experience as a soldier forced to serve in Chernobyl 20 years ago (RUS). The piece is accompanied by several black-and-white army pictures.

20 Years Ago. Letters I haven't written.

"Mama, I'll never forget how you were running back and forth outside the locked gates of the conscription center. Don't be upset, everything will turn out fine, I won't be staying there for a long time."

"We are on the train, all became friends quickly. All dead drunk, officers don't stop us, they understand... [...]"

"Kiev is empty, 6 AM, only water trucks are watering the streets constantly. At the checkpoint to the north of the city we pass trucks and buses with refugees. They are from there. We are on the way there. Everyone shudders - from the chill of the dawn and from fearsome anticipation. Everyone's sobered up long ago."

"We've arrived, Polesskiy district, a tent camp in the field. A hot, wonderful day. We are all standing, afraid to sit down on the grass - because of radiation. Here's one who has lost patience and sat down. Another one after him. Ten minutes later, everyone's lying on the grass, sunbathing - and it's not scary at all because radiation's invisible."

"We are in the no-go zone. Patrolling a village, guarding it from looters. Suddenly, there's rustling in the grass. [...] A stooped old woman emerges: "Dear sons, let me get into the house and take a blanket and a pan. They chased us out, didn't let us take anything..." We turn our eyes away, there are tears of shame and grief in them..."

"Mushrooms are huge and there are plenty of them. The locals pick them along the forest road. They squeeze themselves through the fences, get into the Zone and pick mushrooms. We tell them: "What are you doing, people. You'll get poisoned!" - and they laugh in a friendly way in response, with peasant's slyness: "Nothing'll happen to us, look how beautiful the mushrooms are..."

"Mama, we've almost got caught in a serious shower today. Sasha Tatarchuk and I are walking at the side of the road, and suddenly hear great, scary noise. We raise our heads, turn around - a helicopter is over us, watering the road with a mix of iodine and lysol, to beat the radioactive dust down. We barely managed to run off the road's side, almost got sprayed by this stinking crap."

"World Cup in Mexico. Maradona scores with his hand. [...] USSR-Hungary 6:0. We are watching it all in the village of Osipovichi, Narovlyanskiy district of Gomel region, in the village school. On the blackboard are the words "28 krasavika 1986 goda" [April 28, 1986 - BEL]. It means that 12 km away from Pripyat children had classes two days after the accident."

"Mama, I've seen the Red forest and the power plant far away. And the crimson sunset over it. It's incredibly beautiful here - forests, lakes and silence... In villages, cats and dogs come to our checkpoints and eat buckwheat with canned stew from the same plate. Sometimes they don't manage to share it and the dog barks at the cat, and the cat straightens out whiskers and responds with hissing. Cats win more often (as in real life). Horses, having gathered into herds, dropping foam, are running around fields and gardens covered with meter-tall grass. Sometimes an armored personnel carrier flies by at great speed."

"Mama, soldiers guarding the perimeter of the power plant are given Swedish grape juice in cartons with straws, and chocolate. They are wearing small gauze respirators and rubbered protection suits. 19-year-old boys. Next to them I feel like a wise, experienced, brave warrior. I'm 22 already."

"Going home. At last. The train passes the suburbs, approaches the train station. We are packed by the window, our cheeks and noses pressed to the windows. Home."

To my friends Sasha Tatarchuk, Pavlik Fedorich, Vova Gamazin, Vitya Mostovets, Lyokha, Aristarkhushka, Ivan-Shayba, Zaliznyak. Be healthy. Let you children grow up healthy, this is very relevant for us all...