The rate of miscarriages among women in Gaza has risen to nearly 50 per cent, say health authorities, who blame malnutrition, the collapse of medical services and grim living conditions in the war-devastated territory.
In April, the latest month for which figures are available, the Gaza Health Ministry recorded about 920 miscarriages among nearly 2,000 pregnancies. This translates to about 460 miscarriages for every 1,000 pregnancies, compared with a prewar average of 140 per 1,000.
“Water contamination, food insecurity and the collapse of maternal and child health services have combined to create what physicians describe as one of the most dangerous environments for pregnancy in recent memory,” the ministry's director general, Dr Munir Al Bursh, told The National.
He said the rate of miscarriages has increased by more than 70 per cent compared with average figures from before the two-year war between Israel and Hamas, which destroyed vast areas of the coastal strip, including most of its infrastructure, and displaced most of the population. “The risks facing pregnant women increase every day,” he said.
Amal Al Amassi, 32, said she and her husband had hoped to welcome a second child into their family despite having to live in a tent after fleeing their home, and deal with shortages of food and medicine.
Their dream ended in her fifth month of pregnancy. “I lost my child four months ago,” Ms Al Amassi told The National.
Ms Al Amassi said her pregnancy had been progressing normally before the struggle of life inside displacement camps began taking its toll.
“I began suffering severe abdominal pain and repeated episodes of losing consciousness,” she said. “Doctors admitted me to hospital.”
Medics tried for three days to stabilise her condition before reaching a conclusion no expectant mother wants to hear: continuing the pregnancy would place her own life at risk. “They decided to terminate the pregnancy,” she said.
She and her husband had hoped for a sibling for their six-year-old son, but now “this dream feels impossible”, Ms Al Amassi said. “The conditions are too difficult. I'm afraid of going through it again.”
For Aisha Al Bayoumi, her pregnancy had barely begun before complications emerged.
The 25-year-old, displaced from Al Mawasi in Khan Younis, conceived her first child in March, less than a year after getting married.
The first medical examination brought reassuring news: everything appeared normal. Within weeks, however, the situation changed.
“I experienced severe fatigue and persistent abdominal pain. Doctors diagnosed problems affecting both foetal development and my uterus,” she said.
For more than a month, she underwent treatment in the hope of saving the pregnancy. But by the end of May, those hopes had vanished.
“Doctors informed me that the pregnancy could not continue. When I asked what caused it, several doctors gave me similar answers,” she said.
She says physicians highlighted a number of factors associated with life during the war: prolonged malnutrition, walking long distances because transport was unavailable, inhaling toxic gases from nearby military operations, and living amid dust and debris in overcrowded displacement camps. “They said all of these may have contributed.”
According to Dr Al Bursh, severe malnutrition has become one of the leading threats to pregnant women. Anaemia resulting from iron deficiency is now widespread, he added.
“Without sufficient nutrition, mothers struggle to provide oxygen and essential nutrients to developing foetuses, increasing the likelihood of miscarriage and pregnancy complications.”
At the same time, Gaza's healthcare system is struggling to recover from damage inflicted nine months into a ceasefire, with Israel continuing to carry out attacks and restricting the entry of medical supplies. Hospitals report growing numbers of high-risk pregnancies while simultaneously coping with shortages of medicine, medical equipment and specialised maternal care.
Doctors are also documenting increasing numbers of congenital abnormalities. For many women, pregnancy has become inseparable from fear – that food will run out, that another displacement will interrupt medical care, that the next hospital visit will end not with the sound of a newborn's cries but with another loss.
Many couples have now postponed plans to have children. Others go ahead, uncertain whether they will receive adequate nutrition or prenatal care.
Health officials warn that the consequences for Gaza extend far beyond the current humanitarian crisis. A sustained decline in successful pregnancies could reshape the territory's demographic future while leaving thousands of women carrying the psychological scars of pregnancies interrupted by war.
Ms Al Amassi said she still thinks about the child she never met. “After that experience, I no longer think about becoming pregnant again. I'm afraid of losing another baby.”
