An otherwise ordinary trip to Target tonight quickly escalated when I started to drive away through the parking lot and heard a woman screaming - I looked to see her being dragged inside the store by 3 men, and I immediately threw my car in park right there at the entrance and jumped out to follow them in. With no idea what was happening, but recognizing that this woman was being dragged against her will, I couldn't not stop and find out. On my way into the store, I had to step over a puddle on the sidewalk, just as I heard her screaming for help, that her water had broken.
I followed the moving cluster of commotion over to a red door, where the woman was being dragged into what appeared to be a break room. I quickly learned she had been accused of shoplifting, and the security guard told me she just needed to "calm down" and that the police had been called. He described to me all the things they believed she had taken, and I was struck by the fact that everyone was so focused on her apparent wrongdoing that no one appeared to be as concerned about her medical status.
Ironically, I had just finished reading an article in Time magazine earlier this evening, about a woman of color who had been grossly dismissed by medical staff when she presented for medical care with severe pregnancy complications. Her story was that she was brushed aside for THREE days at various encounters by different medical professionals even after bleeding through a waiting room chair; when they finally realized she was in premature labor, it was too late - she was scolded for not informing the staff she was in labor and was told to calm down, or the anesthesiologist would refuse to administer her epidural. Hours later, she held her dead baby in her arms.
I'll be damned if I am going to let a woman - accused shoplifter or not - be detained without medical care while in labor right in front of me. I nearly lost it when the security guard told me she needed to "just calm down." I looked him square in the eye and said, "Sir, she is in LABOR. Have you ever been in labor? No, you have not. There is no calming down right now. This woman doesn't need to calm down, she needs medical care."
As the woman saw me through the glass window of the break room, she screamed and begged me to capture the events on video and to help her and her baby. Instead, I used my phone to call 911.
I remained right outside that door where she was taken around a corner and out of sight. I requested to speak with a manager immediately, and demanded to know that this woman would be given humane treatment in the midst of this situation. The legal issues could be sorted out later; the medical issues couldn't wait, especially if these security guards didn't want to have a delivery and newborn liability on their hands. The woman's companion, who was standing by in a daze, had told me this was her 4th baby. All I could think about was how my 3rd baby catapulted into this world a mere 4 minutes after my own water broke...
Minutes later the police, followed shortly by the ambulance, arrived. I lingered to make sure she was taken to the hospital. I briefly recounted the events to a police officer who then told me there was a warrant for this woman's arrest in a neighboring state, but he assured me that she was being transported to the hospital for care.
As I drove home, my heart was so heavy with sadness. Sadness for this woman, who appeared to make some really poor choices during a desperate time in her life. Sadness for this baby, who would likely enter this world already swept into devastating social instability. And sadness for a broken world, where stones are cast one after another, despite the deeper issues that lay far below the surface.
I am not one to judge this woman for the actions she has been accused of, her motives for doing them, or her apparent criminal record. Rather, it has taken everything in me not to drive to the hospital and request to be by her side during labor. I want to hold her hand and tell her she has so much more to live for than the life she appears to have been living. I want to swaddle that baby, to whisper identity over him/her, to tell them that they have a great purpose in this world. I want them both to know that they are fearfully and wonderfully made by a God who loves them more than they could ever fathom - and that His love for them can not be bought (or stolen)... it's a free gift.
Instead, I will go to bed tonight and wake up to my three healthy babies who are soundly sleeping in their beds, knowing they are loved, valued, and safe. And I will whisper a prayer of thanks for this beautifully messy life that I've been given, with all of its imperfections and blessings.
Each of us has a story. Some are wrought with devastation, both self-imposed and as byproducts of the broken society we live in. But may we never assume we know the whole story. May we be slow to judge and quick to advocate for others. And may we never be the one to suggest that a woman in labor should "just calm down."
I followed the moving cluster of commotion over to a red door, where the woman was being dragged into what appeared to be a break room. I quickly learned she had been accused of shoplifting, and the security guard told me she just needed to "calm down" and that the police had been called. He described to me all the things they believed she had taken, and I was struck by the fact that everyone was so focused on her apparent wrongdoing that no one appeared to be as concerned about her medical status.
Ironically, I had just finished reading an article in Time magazine earlier this evening, about a woman of color who had been grossly dismissed by medical staff when she presented for medical care with severe pregnancy complications. Her story was that she was brushed aside for THREE days at various encounters by different medical professionals even after bleeding through a waiting room chair; when they finally realized she was in premature labor, it was too late - she was scolded for not informing the staff she was in labor and was told to calm down, or the anesthesiologist would refuse to administer her epidural. Hours later, she held her dead baby in her arms.
I'll be damned if I am going to let a woman - accused shoplifter or not - be detained without medical care while in labor right in front of me. I nearly lost it when the security guard told me she needed to "just calm down." I looked him square in the eye and said, "Sir, she is in LABOR. Have you ever been in labor? No, you have not. There is no calming down right now. This woman doesn't need to calm down, she needs medical care."
As the woman saw me through the glass window of the break room, she screamed and begged me to capture the events on video and to help her and her baby. Instead, I used my phone to call 911.
I remained right outside that door where she was taken around a corner and out of sight. I requested to speak with a manager immediately, and demanded to know that this woman would be given humane treatment in the midst of this situation. The legal issues could be sorted out later; the medical issues couldn't wait, especially if these security guards didn't want to have a delivery and newborn liability on their hands. The woman's companion, who was standing by in a daze, had told me this was her 4th baby. All I could think about was how my 3rd baby catapulted into this world a mere 4 minutes after my own water broke...
Minutes later the police, followed shortly by the ambulance, arrived. I lingered to make sure she was taken to the hospital. I briefly recounted the events to a police officer who then told me there was a warrant for this woman's arrest in a neighboring state, but he assured me that she was being transported to the hospital for care.
As I drove home, my heart was so heavy with sadness. Sadness for this woman, who appeared to make some really poor choices during a desperate time in her life. Sadness for this baby, who would likely enter this world already swept into devastating social instability. And sadness for a broken world, where stones are cast one after another, despite the deeper issues that lay far below the surface.
I am not one to judge this woman for the actions she has been accused of, her motives for doing them, or her apparent criminal record. Rather, it has taken everything in me not to drive to the hospital and request to be by her side during labor. I want to hold her hand and tell her she has so much more to live for than the life she appears to have been living. I want to swaddle that baby, to whisper identity over him/her, to tell them that they have a great purpose in this world. I want them both to know that they are fearfully and wonderfully made by a God who loves them more than they could ever fathom - and that His love for them can not be bought (or stolen)... it's a free gift.
Instead, I will go to bed tonight and wake up to my three healthy babies who are soundly sleeping in their beds, knowing they are loved, valued, and safe. And I will whisper a prayer of thanks for this beautifully messy life that I've been given, with all of its imperfections and blessings.
Each of us has a story. Some are wrought with devastation, both self-imposed and as byproducts of the broken society we live in. But may we never assume we know the whole story. May we be slow to judge and quick to advocate for others. And may we never be the one to suggest that a woman in labor should "just calm down."
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