One morning in early March, a pickup truck pulled up in front of a village maternity hospital. Two guards got out and pulled a woman out. It was obvious that she was pregnant and in labor. He could barely walk, staggering in pain, clutching his belly and lower back. “Hurry up!” the guards shouted. “Why couldn’t you wait to get to town, you fool?” The emergency room was filled with shock when the staff spotted their unusual patient.

It’s not every day that prisoners were brought to their small maternity hospital to give birth. It wasn’t even supposed to be there. She had gone into labor during transport to the specialized prison for women.

Dr. Barbara Gibbs had just begun what promised to be a quiet shift. All of her patients had already given birth, and she was looking forward to a cup of tea in peace. Suddenly, the news from the emergency room arrived.

“They brought a prisoner! Goodbye to an uneventful shift!” The doctor went downstairs. The woman in labor lay semi-reclined on the couch, moaning softly in pain, with the guards and nurse on duty hovering nearby. “Take her to healing,” Dr. Gibbs ordered after a quick exam, nodding to the stretcher-bearers.

They lifted the woman on a stretcher and took her away. The guards began to follow her. “And where do you think you’re going?” asked Dr. Gibbs, surprised.

“They cannot enter the maternity ward. We have special protocols.” “We have our own protocols,” said one of the guards. “We must be present.” “Absolutely not!” exclaimed Barbara, blocking her path.

“I will not allow them to scare the other mothers. This is not a prison. These are our rules. In the absence of the chief doctor, I am in charge. And I decide who enters and who does not.” “He doesn’t understand it. She is a prisoner. We have provided all the documentation.” “I understand it perfectly. But first of all, it’s a woman giving birth to a child. What if he escapes?” Are you serious? It is six centimeters dilated. Although I guess that doesn’t mean anything to you.” Dr. Gibbs shook her head. “I have been clear. If we cannot attend the birth, we must handcuff her,” the escort insisted. “Believe me, it’s in your own interest.” The woman didn’t bother to ask why she might be of interest. He just sighed deeply.

“Okay, let them chain her. I’ll call them later. Have some decency.” When the woman in labor was taken to the delivery room, the escorts handcuffed her by the wrist to the bed.

“Now go,” Dr. Gibbs ordered in a high-pitched voice. The men left, saying they would wait in the emergency room. “Did he really show you who’s in charge here?” smiled young pediatrician Sofia Castro.

“I don’t need your interference here,” Dr. Gibbs muttered and walked over to the laboring woman, her tone softening to gentle warmth. He asked her, “Now, my dear, remind me of your name.” “Mine,” the prisoner groaned. “Mine,” the doctor repeated.

His face quivered with emotion, turning pale momentarily before composing himself. “Listen to me now, Mia. Forget everything else in the world. The baby is all that matters right now. Their life depends on you. Don’t waste energy screaming. Just listen to my instructions.” The mother-to-be nodded obediently.

“Woman, prisoner?” the words seemed incompatible with the young woman, no more than twenty years old, who was now struggling in the birthing chair, handcuffed.

“How did it end up under such circumstances? What had he done?” Barbara Gibbs found herself feeling empathy for this girl. And for their son, a difficult road awaited them both. Putting aside unnecessary thoughts, Barbara began her work.

She spoke clearly and confidently, encouraging the woman in labor, remaining attentive and professional at all times. His voice instilled confidence, helping to manage pain, to endure everything. Women who gave birth at this maternity hospital considered themselves lucky to be under Dr. Gibbs’ care.

She was like a mother to them, her experience and gentle hands had helped many children see this world. Dr. Gibbs had been working at this maternity hospital for over twenty years, ever since she returned from town to work as a midwife. He didn’t need badges or medals. He just did his job well, earning only good reviews. But Barbara herself had endured a difficult fate that few people knew about.

Thirty years ago, after graduating from medical school, Barbara got a job at a maternity hospital in the city. She soon married. Their daughter, Mia, was born, and Barbara was immensely happy. Barbara’s husband, Ricardo, was developing a serious business at the time. Although it was a difficult period, I was succeeding. The family lived well, lacking nothing. But money, as they say, corrupts people. Soon, the once-loving and caring Ricardo changed beyond recognition. He became rude to Barbara, raised his hand to her, and often did not come home in the evenings. One day, Barbara saw him hugging a striking blonde. They walked around the city, kissing. Even noticing Barbara, Ricardo showed no shame, he just smiled disdainfully and said, “What are you looking at? Go home, take care of our daughter.” Barbara couldn’t even muster the strength to make a scene there on the street, her body stiffened with pain, tears flooded her eyes.