Welcome to Waldo County, where finding a place to give birth is now harder than finding the iconic children’s book character Waldo himself. Come April, the local labor and delivery unit will be shuttered, leaving expectant mothers in a health care desert. So, now what? I have a modest proposal: if we can’t support new births, why not open a monastery instead?

A brand-new “Contemplation and Conception Center” solves two problems at once. First, it would boost our population numbers without burdening our already stretched health care system. Second, it would send a clear message to couples eyeing Waldo County: if you’re planning on having kids, you’d better plan on driving to Pen Bay Hospital in Rockport. And if that seems like too much effort, a vow of celibacy might be the better choice.

Now, I know this sounds extreme. But with the birthing center closing, the reality for pregnant women is just as stark. It’s not just about a longer drive — it’s about what that drive represents. For women in labor, it represents risk. For families, a lack of support. And for our communities, a steady erosion of resources that make rural life sustainable. Waldo County isn’t just losing a birthing center; it’s birthing a crisis.

“That’s rural life for you,” one commenter on a recent article about Maine’s vanishing birthing centers helpfully pointed out. They added that hopefully, the woman featured in the article had “a husband, partner, boyfriend, or friend to drive her.” Is it a woman’s job to ensure they have someone to help them or the system’s job to ensure health care is accessible? Perhaps we should also suggest women pack their own forceps and fetal heart monitors, just in case?

A reminder: not everyone has the luxury of choosing where they live, just like not every woman has a choice about having a baby. In the wake of recent Supreme Court decisions, access to reproductive healthcare is disappearing across the country — though not everywhere, at least not yet. But for women in places like Waldo County, their needs are secondary to the balance sheets of a strained healthcare system.

Let’s be clear: rural life isn’t an excuse for neglect. It’s a challenge to do better, to build stronger systems where resources are scarce. Instead, we see a steady erosion of the very things that make rural living possible. The closure of Waldo County’s birthing center isn’t just about healthcare — it’s about what kind of community we want to be. A place that values families, or one that drives them away?

Maybe the monastery idea isn’t so far-fetched. We could roll out new slogans: “Waldo County: Birth-Free Since 2024.” Or “Visit Waldo County: Quiet Contemplation, No Crying Babies Guaranteed.” Absurd, sure, but no more absurd than expecting women to shovel snow, strap on snowshoes, and hope the potholes on Route 1 speed up contractions on the way to Rockport.

Sure, Mainers are resourceful. We know how to take care of business in a blizzard, whether it’s digging out the car or delivering a baby. But why should we have to? At what point do we stop blaming individuals for these gaps and start holding the system accountable?

Waldo County is the eighth hospital in Maine to close its birth center since 2015, but it isn’t just a local issue — it’s part of a nationwide crisis. Across rural America, birthing centers are shutting down due to staffing shortages and financial strain, leaving women with longer drives and riskier deliveries. Each closure hollows out rural communities, making it harder for families to stay and thrive. It’s like we’re living in some twisted version of “The Handmaid’s Tale,” where instead of forcing women to give birth, we’re making it nearly impossible for them to do so safely.

Women deserve better than platitudes about rural living. They deserve to feel safe, supported, and respected — not just as mothers but as people. Maine communities deserve more than a slow fade into obsolescence. We deserve vibrant futures where families can grow and flourish.

Of course, I know that sharing these opinions is bound to ruffle some feathers. So be it. If standing up for women’s rights and rural communities makes people uncomfortable, good. It should. Because what’s happening here isn’t just an inconvenience; it’s a failure of imagination and will.

It’s time we stop playing “Where’s Waldo?” with women’s health care and start asking “Where’s our commitment to rural communities?” If we can’t deliver babies here, what else are we failing to deliver? Support for women? Respect for their choices? The systems that make rural life possible?

In the end, the real question isn’t “Where’s Waldo?” It’s “Where’s the health care our communities need?” If we can’t answer that question, maybe it’s time we all took a vow of silence and contemplated how we got here.

Hilary Koch lives in Augusta. She can be reached at: [email protected]