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I am Bengali, I am Canadian, but first and foremost, I am a Muslim woman.
I cover my head and body in public, and in front of men who are not my immediate family.
Growing up, I always had a female OBGYN, but when I became pregnant, she could not guarantee
her services during my labour and delivery, so I knew a male doctor could be taking care
of me. I was fine with that. Islam allows a male doctor to attend to a female patient
when necessary.
And so it happened, the doctor who delivered my first born was male and I have good memories
of that experience, because I was prepared for it.
But, prior to the delivery, I was informed that a male student would come by to examine
me. I was taken aback. I explained my need for modesty to the nurse, but my request was
ignored. There were six other women in labour that day -- why couldn't the student "practice"
on them? Exhausted, I had no choice but to endure the examination, leaving me humiliated
and embarrassed.
My memories of my first childbirth experience still have those feelings attached to them.
In an effort to regain power, for my Masters research paper, I explored the childbirth
experiences of other Muslim women. I found that I was not alone. With my second pregnancy,
I was better prepared and insisted I have my needs met, and so I have only positive
feelings attached to that memory.
I am Bengali, I am Canadian, but first and foremost, I am a Muslim woman.
