Born Free: No British Baby Bills Due on Arrival

When my wife and I, both Americans, decided to entrust the birth of our third child to Britain’s socialized health-care system, we knew there would be no choice of doctor and no posh hospital room with a telephone and color TV.

But Dr. Susan Dukes, who has been our family doctor for the six years we have been in London, assured us of a high standard of care under the National Health Service, with no bills to pay.

So it was in May last year that Mary Jane and I found ourselves at Middlesex Hospital, a major London teaching and research complex that dates from 1745 and has its own medical school.

The hospital has about 560 beds, most of them on austere, open wards for 30 or so patients. The big red-brick building, with its drab waiting rooms and clunky elevators, was rebuilt in 1935 and appeared overdue for a face lift.

Communal wards allow some diversion. We were entertained, for example, by a man incessantly snapping photos of his wife going through labor. And then there was that tyke who kept kicking a soccer ball just outside our cubicle.

Once Mary Jane was wheeled into the delivery room, there was complete privacy, except for three midwives who took turns checking her progress and monitoring the baby.

The fetal monitor and constant attention of midwives, who are nurses specially trained in obstetrics, were typical of the nothing-left-to-chance approach of the Middlesex Hospital.

During her pregnancy, Mary Jane had three ultrasound scans to track the baby’s weight and position and two glucose-tolerance tests to rule out any possibility of maternal diabetes.

In the late stages of labor, she had two epidurals, delicate procedures in which painkiller is injected in the spinal cord. A senior anesthetist arrived from home shortly before midnight to give the first epidural, and the second several hours later.

Although we had no choice of doctors, we felt lucky to be assigned surgeon Peter Clarkson, one of the hospital’s senior gynecologist-obstetricians.

After Mary Jane had gone through 16 hours of labor, Clarkson decided on a Caesarean, directing a cast of about 20 surgeons, pediatricians, midwives, technicians, and possibly a few medical students.

Around 6 a.m., Clarkson deftly brought our third daughter, Katherine, into the world--a healthy 9 pounds, 1 ounce.

Mary Jane and the baby stayed in the hospital for seven days. Later, they received what we discovered were standard house calls from a midwife, a social services nurse and our own Dr. Dukes. For the last year, Mary Jane has been taking Katherine for periodic checkups at the local well-baby clinic.

Our total medical expense to date: one large box of candy for the midwives and nurses at Middlesex Hospital.