The Baby Whisperer

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Chapter Five: St Margaret’s Hospital Trust

Although I was nine years old, I felt life on earth held too many questions and not enough answers. So please forgive me for what I’m about to do now - but yes! I have a question for you. Do you know what evil is? Do you really understand what evil is? Well, for those of you who think you do know; it’s still not as simple as you might think. This is because evil is not a singular entity; there’s much more to this malevolence than meets the eye…
On earth there are not one, but many facets of evil running rampant under a number of beautiful disguises. Beautiful - without question - otherwise it wouldn’t be a disguise now would it? Yet, for all its obviousness many are still stunned to silence when they get stabbed in the back by demons with angels’ faces.
Things are not as they appear to be. I should know. My uncle lured our clan to a new dwelling place and it was there where I met my brutal end.
Nevertheless, even with this surmounting deception it isn’t all doom and gloom for the rest of the world. This is because amidst the bedlam of deception, there is also a rather intricate balancing act taking place.
Intricate balancing act, you say? Yes. That’s right. An intricate balancing act. For, inasmuch as there are many faces of evil, just like that lone dandelion swaying in a field of twisted weeds, many acts of goodness are spawned from one exemplification of good. It only takes one to spring up - and from that one - many more will follow.
However, try as it may, real goodness - unlike evil - cannot so easily disguise itself. This is undoubtedly because goodness is in itself a light. And it has the welcoming predisposition of shining in some of the most unimaginable places, and during some of the most calamitous of times...
But you see, that is the beauty of good; it shines. It cannot help being the thing that it is. And good - in a perfect manifestation of itself - is always clear and simple. But evil is neither, and therein lies the problem...As I have witnessed for myself many evil and pernicious acts are born out of good intentions. Did you get that? Just to make sure, I’ll say it again: Many evil and pernicious acts are born out of good intentions. For you see, there are people whose sole aim in life is to achieve as many good things as possible. However they later find that they might have to commit one small act of evil, to do so first...Do you follow? If not, no worries. It’ll become clearer to you soon enough. Now, where was I? That was it! One small act of evil...

Well it appears something akin to this notion is taking place in St Margaret’s Trust. A very busy hospital in London’s East End…
Saint Marge’s (as it was colloquially called over 200 years ago) is a resplendent hospital. Resplendent in the sense that it is a real joy for the eye to behold.
The white walled-exterior still upholds the dazzling appearance it had during its inauguration in 1749. Ten years before the opening of the British Museum in London’s Bloomsbury. Subsequently, it was the introduction of the latter, which brought a sudden end to the public’s much fevered interest in the goings on of their favourite infirmary.
But despite the interchangeable nature of mankind, the hospital has always served them well. Attending the Empire’s wounded as she fought everywhere from Waterloo to West Virginia. And as London grew, so did the hospital’s quarters.
In 1820 three more wings were added: Two psychiatric wards and a cardiology unit. Over the decades, all three departments received subsequent praise for their pioneering work. Of course, there were many deaths and many inaccurate diagnoses at the time. But that was to be expected in an era where leading scientists still hadn’t quite got their heads around most modern medical discoveries - the existence of bacteria being one of them.
Yet despite the golden age of ignorance the hospital grew in stature and reputation.
Then in August 1935, a wonderful thing happened at St Margaret’s Hospital. The local authorities along with its royal patrons introduced a brand new wing to the city’s most beloved Infirmary. It was a paediatrics unit, dedicated to the safe delivery, preservation and care of mother and baby during and after childbirth.
At the time, it was the largest paediatrics unit in Europe. It seemed that no expense was spared when the hospital’s pioneers set about constructing this particular wing.
Also, as planned, a new and superiorly-qualified batch of staff was assigned to the department. And according to old records the doctors, Matrons, midwives and nurses all did an exemplary job. But as it so happened not long after the new appointments, all of them were killed. Not one of them was fortunate to have escaped the blitz unleashed on the city by Nazi war planes.
Subsequently the gritty encounter pulverized a good portion of the recently erected paediatrics ward. Sadly, many mothers and babies lost their lives too. Then, as it is now, it is still quite hard to stomach such a terrible and tragic occurrence.
First of all, you only have to think of the employees; the medics, who lost their lives while rushing around trying to take care of people more vulnerable than themselves. These workers were respected. They were loved. They were somebodies. And in a matter of moments the essence was snuffed out of them. As swift as time and as chilling as a cruel joke...
Then, no sooner as the mind gets to grips with this vicious act of brutality, your thoughts wander over to the defenceless women - the mothers. Many of whom had, prior to the event, spent countless hours in debilitating pain in the hope that all their suffering and sadness would soon be turned into joy once they held their new baby in their arms.
A happy event which of course never happened.
And then, last of all, there are the heartbreaking deaths of the newborns...
As it turns out - just before the wretched end - some of the babies did actually catch a glimpse of their momentous surroundings. They took in the most glorious sight their tiny human eyes had ever seen - and would ever see. It was the look of their mothers smiling down on them. It is said, for newborns, that initial meeting with their mothers - and finally seeing them through their ‘natural’ eyes - is one of the most spectacular sensations one could ever experience in this world. And some of those babies were fortunate to have felt that before their tiny eyes were sealed forever…
Ultimately the loss of a newborn is nothing short of tragic. Tragic more so because of the perceived fragility of the soul...
But let’s ask ourselves. What exactly did take place over 70 years ago at that peaceful paediatrics unit in St Margaret’s Hospital?
Was it murder?
The harrowing casualties of war, perhaps?
The baleful conclusion to a systemically flawed political world system?
Or possibly, all of the above?
Whatever the answer may be, the consequences from such a woeful occurrence has spurred many international debates that, to this day, continue to rage on still. Yet, moving onto the present, the silencing of the newborns at St Margaret’s Hospital Trust is currently not up for debate. This is because it’s not open for discussion.
What goes on in there, goes on without the full knowledge of the public.
Earlier I asked you if you knew what evil was. If you still don’t know - never mind! Some say ignorance is bliss!
But unfortunately for some of the newborns that had arrived at this hospital - they know exactly what it is. I suppose, when you’re at the receiving end of it, you’d probably know it all too well…

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