It is 2am in the obstetrics and gynaecology emergency department of Assahaba Medical Complex in Gaza City. Through the open windows, I can hear the never-ending hum of drones in the sky above, but aside from that, it is quiet. A breeze flows through the empty hall, granting relief from the heat, and a soft blue glow emanates from the few lights that are on. I am six months into a yearlong internship and 12 hours into a 16-hour shift. I am so tired that I could fall asleep here at the admissions desk, but in the calm, a rare sense of peace envelopes me.
It is soon shattered by a woman crying in pain. She is bleeding and gripped by cramps. We examine her and tell her that she has lost her unborn baby – the child she has dreamed of meeting. The woman was newly married, but just a month after her wedding, her husband was killed in an air raid. The child she was carrying – a 10-week-old embryo – was their first and will be their last.
