An MSF (Medecins Sans Frontieres) surgeon at Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis reports that last night, Israeli forces heavily bombed the area close to the hospital with no prior evacuation order, causing patients and people sheltering there to flee in panic.
"We are extremely concerned for the safety of our staff and patients. Once again, we call for the protection of all medical facilities and the unhindered access and provision of health care for both civilians and aid workers," the surgeon said.
More than 24,000 people have been killed and nearly two million are internally displaced within Gaza. Without access to food, clean water, shelter, and health services, Palestinians also face a heightened risk of disease and starvation. And while the siege and bombardment of Gaza continues, the few hospitals that remain operational are overwhelmed and lack essential medical supplies that can save lives.
What it's like to be pregnant in Gaza
Maha (names changed for privacy and security) is from northern Gaza. She went to a hospital when she felt labor was starting, but she couldn't be treated. All the delivery rooms were full. She knew something wasn't right, that she needed to be admitted—she has had a Cesarean section before. But with no other option, she had to go back to her tent. Her son died. She gave birth to him in the latrines closest to her tent, according to Pascale, working as an emergency coordinator for Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) in Gaza for just over three weeks.
"When I entered our facility, Maha was sitting on her bed after receiving postpartum care. She's the one who called me to talk to her. She needed to express her deep pain to all of us; she needed to cry out to us about the injustice she experienced. Without this war, she would not have lost her son," the surgeon said in a statement issued by the MSF.
Pascale was narrating the woes of patients at Al-Emirati Hospital in Rafah, where people receive postpartum care. In addition to the exhaustion of childbirth, they must contend with the constant stress of bombings, displacement, poor living conditions in Rafah, and the uncertainty of what tomorrow holds.
Nour had a little girl, a very pretty one. After giving birth, Nour was happy but tired, half asleep and a little pale. My colleagues gave her a hemoglobin test—she needed to take some iron and vitamin C supplements. Her mother-in-law accompanied her and told me that their family is from Jabalia, in the northern Gaza Strip. Her house and her street are now reduced to rubble. I asked what her baby girl's name would be. Nour hadn't decided yet. But her mother-in-law would like her name to be Salam (Arabic for “peace”), which has never been more needed.
Reham* had just given birth to a baby girl, too. They are both fine. She wanted to show me the face of the newborn and told me with a smile that her name is Amal, meaning “hope,” because hope is what encourages Palestinians to get up every morning despite the horrors they have lived through. And it's the last thing Reham wants to lose.