During the past few days I often came across unwritten and undiscussed norms what determine what is acceptable and what shouldn't be done in the hospital. The rules are a mixture of common sense, medical routine, and good old communist habbits. But on a number of occasions I felt they are rooted in traditional gender roles and reinforce prejudices against men's role in child care.

As civilized Central Europeans, most Hungarians posses an inbuilt instinct of obeying rules. I have observed this throughout the six years I spent in this country with a rather bipolar attitude.

To make it clear: I am a big supporter of rules. I am actually convinced that obeying rules and authority is part of the discipline which allows a society to progress. This is probably why Hungary seems like a better organized and better functioning country than Bulgaria for instance - people here tend to obey the rules more closely. But I am also convinced that small portions of disobedience are actually healthy and help the system to improve.

Here are some of the rules that I was confronted with in the Uzsoki hospital. It is important to know that in spite of my presence throughout the day, I was formally treated as a guest, as the hospital officially would not allow fathers to stay in.

- No guests in the room during the doctors' visit. Obviously this is because the patients - who are all women in this case, need to get undressed, and checked all over, which they may not want to do in front of others. In any case, I had no problems with this one.

- No guests should touch the bed - even sitting on it is not permitted for them, including fathers. I understand the logic behind is to minimize the chance for introducing germs to the patient's bed. I did my best to comply, by sitting and even taking nap from time to time, on the only armchair in the room.

- No guests should be in the rooms - therefore fathers should only be outside in the corridor. This one did not apply to me because we had booked a special double room. But the corridor was constantly crowded with women from the bigger rooms who were willing to spend time with their husbands and partners.

- Babies can only be lifted from their beds inside the rooms. In the corridor they can be carried only by their mothers. No guests, and therefore no fathers are allowed to lift the babies. Combined with the previous one, this rule practically prohibits the fathers from ever holding their new-born kids. I violated it whenever possible and lifted Maia in my arms a few times in the corridor, ignoring the inevitable "nem szabad" - "not allowed" remarks. Of course inside the room I was free to hold her as much as possible - a very significant privilige for me.

- Guests, and therefore fathers, cannot walk into the nursery. Respectfully noble in its intention to keep possible infections out of the nursery, this rule prevents any father from seeing how their children are taken care of, ask questions, or learn any of the baby care procedures. Patients - i.e. mothers - accompanying their babies, are allowed in any time.

The multiplied effect from these rules and the attitude of most of the staff made me feel very much segregated on the basis of my gender. I was simply not supposed to be there. In the best case the nurses and doctors - most of whom are women - would show polite amusement with my constant presence in the room. And several would simply ignore my presence and speak solely to Emese, avoiding even eye contact with me.

I do not underestimate the possibility that their lack of English language, and my lack of Hungarian, could have contributed to the situation described. so I would not understand anything from these conversations. But the fact is, the only persons who actually tried to communicate directly with me were Emese's gynecologist and the midwife who helped during the delivery.

After having read so much about the positive impact of a father's presence on the young mother during and after the birth, I was amazed to see how this hospital was effectively discouraging fathers from any involvement in the raising of their children during the first few days of their lives.

I make a point here that I am very well aware that the primary burden and pain related to child birth natually belongs to women. My respect to Emese for this is hard to put down in words. But keeping fathers out contradicts even the pure medical logic. A father's presence and support could actually speed up significantly the recovery of a new mother.

The major problem I see with this system of rules and personal attitudes is that it actually tolerates the traditional behaviour model, according to which fathers play a secondary role if any in child care. Too bad for the fathers, the mothers, and for the kids after all.

Maybe time has come for the Uzsoki hospial to reconsider some of its rules and open its doors for fathers a bit more.