My name is Mary Morim. My maiden name is Chichiyan. I was born in Persia and came to Israel, and here I met David Morim. After we got married and had four children, we moved to moshav of Mivtachim. I became pregnant for the fifth time. One evening before I reached the ninth month I was feeling a pain, and so I went to Soroka Hospital. The next day I was told that my husband was hospitalized ophthalmology department and I was in the maternity ward.
I went through enough of births and abortions, and I was never asked suspicious questions as I was asked that time. A social worker asked me a few questions before giving birth, such as how many children I have, and if I wanted my child back. “What do you mean?” I asked. I was totally confused. My husband, I was told, had undergone surgery, and after he was discharged he went to a family wedding. On that evening of July 13, 1976, I was alone in Soroka Hospital. I did not understand why they asked me these questions. I heard that there was a doctor who sold children. I do not remember the name but I remember the feeling of not understanding why they asked me a question like that. I remember asking myself what was happening and whether it was like the fifties again when children were taken away from their mothers and sold off. I did not understand. During the birth the doctors wanted to do a caesarean section and sedated me but I felt I could give birth naturally. I insisted and so it was. Half an hour after the birth I was told that the child was dead. The child was not shown to me and I was given no document. “What do you mean dead?! He was fine. The birth was normal.”
Mary Morim
I remember the feeling of not understanding why they asked me a question like that. I remember asking myself what was happening and whether it was like the fifties again when children were taken away from their mothers and sold off. I did not understand.
“What do you mean dead?! He was fine. The birth was normal.”