Not that kind of people


 “That was social services” I say to my husband. He flips.

He is outraged and also scared. There’s something else too, He sees this as an insult. Something is implied about us.

“They should know we’re not that kind of people”

I never get this attitude. What are “that kind of people.”? If child protection procedures apply to one person they apply to everyone. But now is not the time for that argument. We’re about to have a much worse one.

I tell him not to worry, it can all be cleared up. He accuses me of complacency. We “discuss” how best to deal with the situation. I think a letter should sort it. He thinks we should go to the midwives and demand to know what is going on. 

In other words, in the words we actually use: He thinks I am a weak person who puts my own discomfort at conflict ahead of our baby’s welfare and will end up getting him taken into care. I think he’s a crazy bam who wants to kick off at midwives which will get the baby taken into care.

We stand facing each other and shouting. This is terrible. We never argue. Later on my husband will tell me that while this argument was going on he felt like “everything was falling apart.”

We make up enough to concentrate on the issue at hand and go to the library to photocopy medical records and write a covering letter. We fax it from the library fax machine. The librarian makes small talk so I explain what the letter is all about in a self depreciating “oh-dear-look-at-the-mess-I've-got-myself-into” sort of a way. The librarian is horrified and scared on our behalf. She lets us off the price of the fax because “it’s an emergency.”

We go outside and the implications of her reaction hit me along with the cold air. I didn't think I was being complacent up until now, but perhaps I have been. This is obviously a very serious situation. I agree we need to talk to the midwives. Yes, Now. But, politely.

We press on to the health centre and both the receptionist and the midwife are shocked and scared for us. The receptionist comments on my measured tone. “If it was me I’d be pure raging” I understand my husband’s point of view more and more. I do seem complacent. I’m not though, honestly. I'm only trying to appear calm because it seems the best way to deal with it.

Well, its not, he points out. I'm not the official person with the headed paper any more. I can’t afford to be calm and just expect to be listened to. I'm just an ordinary mum with no power and I need to find an official person to advocate for me.

Turns out the midwife doesn't mind taking this role at all. She will call social services straight away and let them know I've been to all my appointments. Her efficient reaction again worries me. As we leave I think:
“Bloody hell. Everyone in this city is scared of these people” 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The NCT Meeting: A Vignette

The light from the generous bay window is shining in onto a dozen anxious couples perched on mismatched sofas and chairs, more indicative of wealth somehow than matching ones would have been. Various clutter including a child sized viola case and sheet music has been pushed into a corner to make room for us and a jolly woman in Birkenstocks has just asked us to brainstorm sources of help for new parents. We are at an NCT  class is Glasgow's West End.  “Imagine you’re at the very end of your rope” says the Jolly Woman “Who would you go to for help” It’s a sobering thought. I have worked at the CAB, however and I pride myself on knowing what to do in most situations. I think I would know what to do. In my mind I am thinking “Sure Start Centre, GP, Health visitor, Social Services” Following my usual strategy for group activities, I do not leap in straight away with the answer. More polite to let everyone else have a go first, I think. I am immediately glad of th...
Read more

My first blooding in the Terf Wars

When I moved to Glasgow 12 years ago, I joined two groups which were to have a profound effect on my political outlook. And set me on a course that culminated recently in 6 solid months of stress,  my first intimate experience of a political split and my first proper blooding in the Terf wars.   The first was a very small, trans inclusive feminist group. It was in this group that I coined the ridiculous  phrase "are now or have been a woman" in an attempt to find a form of words which would allow us to  keep a very nice young woman who identified as non binary and kick out two sexist blokes who err… also identified as non binary.  If you know anything about contemporary trans politics you will instantly see that this tack was offensive  to all parties but, hey, my heart was in the right place. I was trying to be inclusive.  The two non binary blokes…..I later talked to a member of the group about them in private. She felt that at least one of...
Read more

Intersectionality 1: In which we define our terms:

OK, So I’m going to have a dive into the massive and Choppy waters of Intersectionality   Intersectionality is a sort of add on to feminism. It’s the shocking idea that gender is not the only basis on which people might be oppressed and that other thing (class, race, sexuality) might be worth looking into too. Nothing to argue with there. My slight problem with Intersectionality (and it’s a geeky one) is that adding new bits to an existing analysis (feminism) to make it encompass more things can be a little bit clumsy and can lead to some odd conclusions. Some of the limitations have been very well over here  by the magnificent Mhairi. I comepletely love this post and once based an entire gender training day on it.   As Mhairi point out, Intersectionlity (and the term Kyriarchy  used here to describe the totality of these intersectional oppressions) does not tend to deal well with class. This is because class is to do with material things. On...
Read more