The real problem in crisis pregnancies is the lack of humanity some people show to pregnant women, writes BREDA O'BRIEN
HEADLINES SUGGESTING that 30 per cent of women experience pregnancy as a crisis are alarming. However, reading Pregnancy at Work: A National Survey, launched this week by the Health Service Executive crisis pregnancy programme and the Equality Authority, would make you wonder where the crisis really lies. Definitions of “crisis” include “a time of intense difficulty, trouble, or danger” and “a time when a difficult or important decision must be made”.
In the case of “crisis pregnancy”, the phrase strongly suggests that expecting a baby is itself the source of “intense difficulty, trouble or danger”. In fact, the research makes it abundantly clear that it is not the baby who messes up women’s lives, but a myriad other factors.
Among mothers who experienced pregnancy as a crisis, only 4 per cent said it was because the baby was unwanted, and of mothers who worked during pregnancy, 3 per cent.
In contrast, financial reasons are cited by 49 per cent of women, followed by 44 per cent who said the baby was unplanned. One can understand both reasons.
It is also fascinating that being unmarried (cited by 22 per cent) and family reaction, or fear of family reaction (18 per cent) are still so significant, at a time when extramarital pregnancies are common. Births outside marriage have increased from 1.6 per cent in 1960 to 33.3 per cent in 2009.
Medical difficulties (42 per cent) seem alarmingly high, until you realise that people are talking about stress, exhaustion and other unpleasant side-effects, not life-threatening conditions.
A significant minority of women at work, some 30 per cent, reported being treated unfairly, meaning everything from unpleasant remarks to threats of redundancy. The fact such threats are illegal does not stop some employers making them, apparently.
Of women in employment who reported unfair treatment, 12 per cent said they had to stand for long periods, had insufficient rest periods, long hours, or had to work night shifts in late pregnancy.
It begins to look more and more as if it is not the baby who is the problem, but the lack of humanity some people show to pregnant women. The report says that while European health and safety legislation on pregnancy recognises mental and physical fatigue, standing, and lack of rest as potential hazards, Irish legislation does not. Instead, it concentrates on things such as direct blows to the abdomen, and exposure to radiation and chemicals. It even includes, rather hilariously, underground mine work as a hazard.
Obviously, legislation needs to be amended, but legislation is needed only because of an underlying mindset that devalues pregnancy, childbirth and child rearing.
As a society, are we in danger of seeing pregnancy and child rearing as annoying interruptions to availability in the labour force?
As a member of the British army during the 1980s, Lynn Coles was hustled into having an abortion in a military hospital.
It was either that or leave the army.
She later became a police officer and representative for female constables, and helped women deal with sexual discrimination, harassment and equal opportunities grievances. Her thinking was, “why can’t a woman have a child and her career?”
Feminism in action, surely? Yet sadly, one of the big failures of feminism has been that it promoted the idea that women would never be equal unless they had access to abortion.
It is hard to campaign convincingly for things such as flexible work practices when you have already sold the pass by accepting that pregnancy is problematic in itself.
This inherent contradiction in the women’s movement has led to to some interesting situations. Coles is a founder member of Women Hurt, which seeks to provide support for women who regret abortions. They launched a billboard campaign recently, with slogans such as “I was told abortion would solve my problems. It only gave me new ones.”
This non-political, non-denominational campaign was roundly attacked as “harsh, cruel and unhelpful” by Susan McKay of the National Women’s Council. It seems that some women do not have the right to speak. A woman like Coles, who has spent a lot of her career trying to achieve equality for women, becomes “harsh, cruel and unhelpful” when she talks about her personal experience.
But suppressing people’s painful experiences never works. It is only in the last 15 years that we have become capable of hearing about the suffering of children wrongfully incarcerated in institutions, of women dumped into Magdalene laundries by families fearing disgrace.
It would be ironic if a feminist organisation like the National Women’s Council tried to prevent some women speaking of their pain and suffering.
It is always easy to identify and condemn denial in the past. It is far harder to acknowledge the suffering we desperately want to close our eyes to today.