Molecular Miscarriage: Is the HIV Theory a Tragic Mistake?

By Neville Hodgkinson
Issue 108, September/October 2001

Recently I spent an evening with my new grandson. Otto had been born the day before, after a long and difficult labor, and was bawling in protest at having just been bathed when I arrived to see him. Minutes later he was placed in my arms, where he stayed contentedly for the next three hours. Although he was asleep for most of that time, I felt as if something like a current was passing through me that would help soothe and nourish him. Admiring the beauty of his jawline, the fineness of his limbs, the miracle of nature that a baby represents, I felt nourished, too. Love for a baby seems such sweet, pure, uncomplicated truth. Somehow, it is redeeming.

The impulse to help new life get off to the best possible start is present in all of us. It has taken a tragic twist, however, for the HIV-positive mothers whose struggles are described by Susan Gerhard in this issue of Mothering. Health officials, in the sincere belief that they are furthering the fight against AIDS, are coercing pregnant mothers into being tested for HIV. If a mother tests positive, she is made to take AZT (a drug so dangerous that experimental handlers are urged to wear protective clothing) and is told not to breastfeed. The newborn baby also must be tested and is treated with AZT or a similar antiviral drug if this is thought necessary, regardless of the parents' wishes. Failure to comply can result in the child being taken away by the authorities.

These are draconian measures. To be told that you have tested positive for a virus equated by most people with the collapse of the immune system and, ultimately, death is a terrible assault on one's mental and emotional stability. We know from mind-body studies that such stress in itself damages immunity. The impact goes beyond mother and baby; if the bond of love created at the time of a new arrival is destroyed by trauma, it can take years to overcome the resulting suffering and social dysfunction. (Not all women are as resilient as those Gerhard describes.) Add to the stress of the diagnosis the loss of breastfeeding, the administration of a poisonous drug with cancer-causing potential, and the sometimes violent enforcement of medical will, and it becomes clear that the Hippocratic principle of "first do no harm" is being breached many times over. Medical practice often involves balancing benefits against risks; in the case of these mothers, the question is not one of risk but of immediate, unquestionable harm.

To justify such actions, the benefits would need to be huge and clear-cut, and such indeed is the view of health authorities who think they are reducing the spread of a lethal virus. In this article, I set out some rarely reported facts and perspectives that challenge that view and suggest that the mothers who have clashed with those authorities deserve to be treated with much more compassion, humility, and respect.

From the beginning, AIDS has been a tough issue for the medical establishment. It brings together so many sensitivities. When first identified among gay men in San Francisco and New York in the early 1980s, it was labeled a "gay plague" and suffered political neglect. This soon backfired, however. Gay leaders, fearful that their hard-won gains in public acceptance of homosexuality were under threat, became angry and vociferous. Pressure on politicians to come up with an answer was intense.