Midwife Maike Jansen: “You could help endlessly”

With Maike Jansen, 44, you immediately feel comfortable: Her blue eyes laugh when she laughs, she wears a colorful sweater and warms her hands with an extra large cup of tea that says: “Make today awesome”. We are sitting in her treatment room at the Hamburg practice “Andocken” on a cool spring day and she is talking about the women she is there for. Because that’s what she’s been doing since she graduated from high school: being there for others who don’t have it as good as she does.

Three times a week she offers a midwife consultation at “Andocken – Help for undocumented people”. Pregnant women who have no residence permits and are on their own come to her. She and her colleague Anna Müller look after around 250 a year – most come from West Africa, a few from Latin America and Asia. Many have fled violence, forced marriages or other traumatic experiences in their home country. Some with tourist visas that expire after three months, or – if they came via the dangerous Mediterranean route – often without papers.

And then suddenly they are pregnant abroad and have no access to health care because they don’t actually exist. They have no money, no social security, no safe shelter. “Yesterday a woman who was 6 weeks pregnant came who had been raped. Access to an abortion is difficult because who bears the costs and how can that be done without the woman being registered?” The social counseling service, which the Diakonie practice also offers anonymously and free of charge, provides support with such questions.

Everyone is afraid of deportation

Everyone is afraid of being caught and deported. That’s why the mothers-to-be usually come to Maike Jansen late in the pregnancy: “The fear of being caught plays a big role in everything.” Anyone who has found their way into the practice – mostly through word-of-mouth propaganda – receives an initial examination and a maternity pass, which is just normal preventive care. “We’re also trying to build trust,” says the midwife, and that usually works out quickly: Many people started talking on the second visit because they felt that they were safe with her.

Almost all are high-risk pregnancies. For psychosocial reasons alone – because the women have neither accommodation nor money. The cleaning jobs in private households that some had before Corona have disappeared. The women mostly make a living from someone slipping them money on the street or in a church community. Some also try to get something from the child’s father if they know him. Public food outlets are avoided for fear of discovery. “Often the pregnant women eat very poorly because they have no way of eating a balanced diet,” says Jansen. In addition, there are sometimes gestational diabetes, high blood pressure or – after the blood test – a diagnosis of hepatitis or HIV. Jansen then has to tell the women, catch them and accompany them. With her colleague, she has set up a network where HIV-positive women are treated with medication so that the baby does not become infected as well.

“You have to keep your distance to be able to help”

And where do the women sleep? Maike Jansen doesn’t know that exactly either, only that some of them are accommodated in church communities or mosques, but then only at night. Or that they ride back and forth on the S-Bahn. The women are often outside all day and run through the city with their bags. Some suffer from urinary tract and fungal infections and don’t even have underwear. The midwives help out here too. You could help endlessly, says Jansen, preferably taking every woman home with you, even her little son suggested that. But the midwife needs her retreat: “All of this takes you with it. I need my home to recover and to gather strength.” She lives in the countryside and takes care of herself by going for a lot of walks. “You have to keep your distance in order to be able to help. Otherwise, at some point it will be too much.”

Despite all fates, there are also beautiful things

But there are positives in all fates, and that’s important for Jansen to tell: A young woman from Ivory Coast escaped genital mutilation by fleeing in the dark and in the dark. Because she gave birth to a girl in Germany, she has now received the right of residence so that her daughter is protected from the cruel practice. She also lives with her German boyfriend, who has a job. “You know it can be good,” says Jansen hopefully and her eyes smile again. She also talks about the mother of four from Senegal, a midwife who now works in a Hamburg hospital. And about the student from Uganda, who was financed by an old tribal leader back home to study agriculture. The young woman had been sent to Germany for an internship and stayed to avoid the planned forced marriage with her “patron”. “I think she has a future here simply because she studied.”

But what happens to the pregnant women once they have taken out preventive care with Jansen? From the 32nd week of pregnancy until eight weeks after the birth, they can go to the immigration office without risking being deported, explains Jansen. During this time they also have health insurance. If they don’t dare to go to the office, hospitals are still obliged to deliver them under the emergency clause. However, Jansen knows that pregnant women are also turned away there. That’s what the social counseling service at “Andocken” takes care of again. But what if the donation-financed midwife consultation hour really ends at the end of the year as planned? “I don’t know either,” says Jansen, getting serious. “I’m not worried about myself, I’ll always have work. I’m worried about the women. Where should they go then?”

Info: All support offers from “Andocken” are funded by donations. Donations can be made here to continue the important work of the midwives:

Bridget