Woman

hello.

I was just sitting here, waiting for you.
But you never came.
So I stayed, waiting, quietly.
Years passed, and still you didn't arrive.
So I watched the world tick by, and I worried for you sometimes.
I wondered, why isn't she looking for me?
I am not that hard to find.
Doesn't she know I am missing from her life?
Is it possible she doesn't understand the importance, of me?

But, you are here now.
you look at me with such wonder, such delight and just a little fear.
I am nothing to be afraid of, honestly.
I have waited for you for what seems like forever.
I am your friend, or at least, I will be, one day.
For now, though, maybe, just for a minute,
Could you hold me?
I am a little hungry, after all this waiting.
Could you offer me sustenance?
I will give back to you a thousand fold the things you offer me, I promise.

I am your daughter, sent by your mothers, to share your wisdom,
and teach you some of mine. In the way of women.
I shall take my fill from you, while I fulfill the empty parts in you.

That is what it is all about, this being a woman.

thoughts.....

I have had a nasty cold all week, and not done much of anything other than think because of it. Thoughts about miscarriage, engendered by this woman's story which resulted in a horrible hospital experience including a D&C and a severe reaction to anaesthetic, and the case of the unexplained cervical clamp. Her treatment in the hospital, while not unusual, was so distressing for me, as I heard it in more detail that usual, due to our friendship. I wanted to go in there and demand to know why they left her in a corridor while she bled, with her three year old on her lap. I know why: I worked there long enough: they had no beds, they are oversubscribed, cases are dealt with by level of urgency. But where is the humanity in this system of "care"?

Thoughts about boundaries, as an online friend experienced first hand the repercussions of sharing birth on the Internet. The Internet has become our friend, our close companion in so many ways. midwives on the Internet inform me, question me, cause me to question myself, and are so much a part of my reflection/ Which I believe to be an integral part of midwifery... the story, the tale, the learning, the searching, that comes only from sharing our knowledge, our fears, our concerns and our triumphs. the fact that this sharing can now take place on an international level, on a world wide forum, accessible to all, in some way's is such a blessing. But in others, oh how open it leaves us to criticism, to heartache, to possible litigation.

This friend, a midwife, shared a story, with the full permission of the woman involved and her partner. It was a story which drew much attention within it's forum, and engendered much useful informative discussion. But someone, uncaring of it's benefits, saw fit to print out this story and show it to colleagues, who disagreed with the midwife's comments about a staff member involved peripherally in care. This someone knowingly took this learning story, and shared it with the staff at the very hospital where the midwife works. This someone joined in witch hunt against the midwife who wrote the story, although all of us who commented had been equally shocked by the staff members actions.

As a result, the Midwife who told the story is shunned. Although anonymity of the woman and the second practitioner remain inviolate, the midwife is named and shamed in the tried and true way we see so often. Midwifery, eating it's young, again.

So where are the boundaries of anonymity? Changing names, dates and salient details? Changing the location of occurrences? And what happens if you change the story so much, it becomes someone else's story, recognisable to them, even though you do not even know them? How do we use the Internet safely as a learning tool, a reflecting tool and still protect those involved? does a dangerous practitioner deserve protection? Does an uncaring practitioner deserve the respect they do not offer the women in their care? ah, so many thoughts.

Thoughts on being a Mum to a teenager (or two, as I now am). How do I strike the correct balance, between loving supportive mother, and provider of structure, discipline and guidance? Should I really let her go out dressed like that? Am I proud of her for dumping a boy for being a pot head, or horrified that she knows a pothead?

Thoughts on being a wife, when I am not married. I fulfill the role of wife, by most definitions, but have no ring, no piece of paper. Most days, i would rather die than have the ring, or the paper. But other days, I worry.... what if something happens to him, and no one listens to me? I am the one he has told his wishes, his expectations of his death. What rights does the woman who loves the man, but has no proof of it, have? Is that what it feels like to be gay and is that why they want legal marriage rights? I have always supported that fight, but now, I think, I begin to understand why they want it! (They what a word, the wrong word, but there is no other word, and so I use the word, despite it's inherent wrongness).

Thoughts on wanting to learn a new skill, not related to my work. I want to learn to play the guitar, I want to join the rest of my family in being able to create music. But I am scared that I won't be any good. Sad.

Thoughts on all sorts of crazy things, roiling continuously in my brain, and not making any sense, in there, or on here!

Called out...

here, darkdaughta has called me out... without even knowing who I am, or that I exist, she has confronted me, and my thoughts are reeling. Really hoping that I will have the guts to be what I am, as opposed to what I like people to think that I am.

My big sister

My sister was the one who introduced me to blogging and she has done some awesome work for me just lately helping to create my business logo and website... so just a litle credit for talent where it is due... She really is quite clever!

On miscarriage

I aways struggle with miscarriage. I have a client who is 12 weeks and having a bleed at present. She may or may not stay pregnant, and there is little I can do for her aside from asking the Goddess to walk beside her. Since I qualified, my experience of miscarriage has been minimal, and I am never quite sure how to position mysef: Matter of fact caregiver? Caring confidante? Understanding ear?

For some women, miscarriage is sad, but not overwhelming. For others, it is the beginning of a lifetimes grief and mourning for a lost soul. For some it is a blip on the radar, a signal to "try again" and for others a devestating blow. And predicting what it will be to which woman is a joke!

I have a practice of sending a rememberance card to women who experience a loss while I am caring for them. I am never a hundred percent sure whether it is the right thing to do or not, though. My own miscarriages were not traumatic for me: I was lucky enough to require no medical treatment, and passed my lost babies with minimal pain or fuss. To be honest, as none of my pregnancy's were ever planned, I always just thought of it as the Goddess sorting things, and was never particularly upset. But I have friends and family members who have been devestated by early pregnancy loss, of both planned and unplanned babies.

So, what is the appropriate tone to strike? A woman who feels as I did, is confused at best by a message of sorrow. I remember thinking, "Wow, I am a horrible person for not being upset by this!" when a friend wrapped me in an embrace saying "I know how hard this is". For me, it wasn't hard. But I know one of my close friends felt the exact opposite, saying "noone seemed to care" when describing her devestation at losing her much loved, unplanned baby at 9 weeks.

So what do others in this wierd world of midwifery do? what about Mum's who have lost their babies? How should I approach this?

It feels so cold and clinical to say things like "we have to wait and see" and "Not finding a heartbeat at this stage is commmon, so it doesn't meant there isn't one."
Anyone with ideas on this, please, share them with me!

Happy birthday Erika....

It is my beautiful daughter's thirteenth birthday today, and this always leads me to reflect on her birth: so I thought, why not share it here?

Thirteen years ago, I was a newly married 18 year old mother of a toddler, pregnant with my second child. My first child's birth was highly interventionist (due in part to my own lack of knowledge) and this time I wanted things to be different. So, I had booked with an independent midwife to dliver at the same hospital as last time. I had written a birth plan, which basically said "leave me alone, my midwife knows what I want". I had talked with my midwfe in great depth about my desire to stay home as long as possible (more thoughts on this later!) and avoid an epidural at all costs.

My due date was the 4th of October, and that evening we had friends over for dinner. About halfway through dinner, I realised that the low throbbing pain in my lower back was not the flare up of an on again off again kidney infection that I had attributed it to, but was in fact, early labour. I decided that the best plan was to completely ignore it, as this had gone on for 48 hours with my first baby, and I didn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past. So I got on with my evening of socialising, and at around 11pm, when eveeryone left, I told my husband that I thought I might be having the baby in the next day or two. "But I have an assignment due" wailed my trainee teacher hubby. Now, I could start a rant here, about how he knew that the assignment was due around my due date for weeks, and had had plenty of time to do it, and his procrastination was really not my problem.... but I won't. I will just say that we spent the next two hours with him telling me what to type and me frantically typing to get his assignment finished.

1am rolled around, and assignment neatly typed, we headed to bed, to get some sleep. By now, the rushes were coming every five minutes or so, but were still pretty mild, and I felt it would still be a day or two. This gives an indication of how long my first labour had been, really doesn't it! We went to bed, and within ten minutes hubby's deep snores filled the air. I however, could not get comfortable for love nor money, and at 2am gave up and ran a bath, thinking that might relax me enough to get to sleep. I jumped out of the bath fifteen minutes later, convinced it had made me much more uncomfortable: In retrospect, I had probably got in just as I started active labour, and the difference was in the strength and length of the surges.

I couldn't sleep, but reasoned that it was still a long way off, and thought I should let hubby sleep. However, I did have a flatmate, asleep downstairs, and so I thought I would waken her so I had someone to talk to. Poor girl, she had never been around woman in labour, and she was terrified I would push it out on her bedroom floor (ironically, a few years later, this same woman delivered her second child on her living room floor with a midwife who had arrived as the head crowned to assess her "early labour" so I guess she got over it!). The next hour or so consisted of me getting more and more vocal, while my flatmate begged me more and more often to call my midwife, and I said "No, I need her fresh later, when I am in proper labour" over and over. Finally, at about 300am, I gave in and rang my midwife, apologised for waking her and told her things were just starting to happen.

I magine my surprise when she said, "erm, I think we should meet at the hospital".
"No, it is really early" said I. "I don't want to get there till I am at least five cms"
"well, listening to you, I think you already are. You do realise these surges are two minutes apart and ninety seconds long, don't you?"
Well, I hadn't even looked at a clock, so no, i didn't know that. Also, I really expected this to get much worse, and therefore, I was pretty sure I was not even three cm's yet. So I continued to argue with her. And she said, "How long is it going to take you to get organised and to the hospital?" and I said "an hour, at least". "See you there in an hour" she replied.

So I slowly started organising my baby sitter (which turned into quite a drama: the girl supposed to do it could not be contacted- pre cell phones, here, and so I had to get my cousin to come, but my cousin had a broken leg, so she had to get her husband up to bring her, and then his car wouldn't start so a third friend was drafted to drive them over. Later, it turned out that the original sitter was IN MY COUSINS HOUSE! shagging her ex, which she did't want anyone to know, so couldn't admit she was there!) and putting bags by the door. Finally at 415am, I woke my husband and off we set.

At the hospital, I was met by my midwife, Chris, two girlfriends who were to be support people, and three other friends who wanted to stay in the waiting room. All the babysitting dramas for my older child meant that everyone knew I was in labour, and I did feel a bit overwhelmed by how much my friends wanted to be there for me.

At 5am, I was examined. I was fully expecting to be told I was less than 3cm's and be packed off back home. But no, I was in for a surprise: I was seven cm's!

Off the bed, and into the shower for a couple of hours I went. That was great, actually, really relaxing. At 0645, I moved back into the bedroom, and we had a wierd discussion about what was playing on the radio for awhile. Then one of my good friends from the waiting room came down and called through the door to see what was happening. Biggest mistake of his life. I told him I was decent and to come on in. He did. I grabbed his hand as transition hit, and the poor bugger ended up as my fourth labour support person! I begged my midwife to check to see if i could push yet: NOpe, still 7cm's. so I asked her to break my waters... well, no, I screamed at her to break them, now.

So she did. And I continued to speed through transition, clinging for dear life to the hands of my hubby on one side, and my dear friend on the other. Hubby suggested I let my friend leave at one point, and I told him to "F#@* himself". Another quick check from the midwife and I was pushing, turning on to my knees leaning against the back of the bed. And at 720am, Erika Jaine was born, over an intact perineum, weighing 7lb3oz, 56cms long. Just like that, I had done it, with no pain relief other than some gas in transition, and my beautiful girl was here. Well, I say beautiful. As one of my birth partners nicely pointed out "You gave birth to ET!" with long spider fingers and big black eyes, and a quite IUGR appearance, she wasn't that pretty at first! But, she is beautiful now, and all grown up. And after she was born, the midwife said to me, "next time, you should have a home birth". And seven years later, I did. And ten years later I started my midwifery training. So the birth of my daughter, was also the birth of my calling to this wierd and crazy world I now inhabit... Something else to thank the Goddess for!

The discourse of becoming parents...

What he said....

Breathe.

Breathe, that's it.

Ssshhhh, It's okay,

just breathe.

I am here.

It's close now,

Breathe.

Hold me,

That's right,
I know, it is hard, but

Breathe.

Squeeze my hand,

let it flow through you,

and into me....

breathe, breathe, ssssshhhhh.

I know, it is a beautiful day.

Yes the world is silent, and calm

breathe,

breathe,

breathe,

Ahhh, that's it, I can see him,

Look, grandma, see him there?

Tell mum what you can see....

oh yes, my love, that is wonderful,

I can see him, he's coming, our son!

breathe, my love, just breathe.


Oh, here he is, oh my god!

You are amazing!

I love you, so much!


What she said....

You did this!

Oh God, I can't do this anymore, make it go away....

Stop, just stop, please....

Why are you making me do this?

This was you idea, you do it!
I am, I'm trying, please, help me.

I can see the sunrise, it is so lovely today...

Oh shut up, would you, I am working here!

Is he there?

Can you see him?

Oh Goddess, this hurrrrts

Ahh, ahhh, oh god, help me,

Oh, here he is, my baby, oh my baby,

Oh, I love you too, so much....

Boundaries, we all have em...

Women will just keep on challenging you, won't they? I have a client, a lovely lady, who I really like.... but she can't seem to hear me when I tell her, over and over, the boundaries of my practice. One of my "rules" is non urgent contact should be via text, and in business hours. I have three children, and a partner, and a life outside of midwifery. So whilst obviously, I am on call 24/7 for urgent matters, like bleeding, or labour or unexplained pain etc etc, I ask all my ladies to save non urgent matters for business hours (10-4, Monday to Friday). I ask them to respect my other clients by sending a text, which I can then respond to after appointments, instead of having to answer a call (which should be urgent, because non urgent matters are dealt with by text!) in the middle of a consultation with someone else.

So this one client, who as I say is really lovely, has called me three evenings in two weeks: to ask for a letter, to ask when our next appointment is and to ask about a minor complaint of pregnancy. Since booking, I have had phone calls on at least three weekends, and twice during family functions: None of these were urgent. Now, I say again, I like the lady, but come on! Would you ring your doctor, dentist or lawyer on the weekend? I am now starting to get really frustrated by it... Every time she calls, she apologises for calling at the wrong time... so she knows it is the wrong time! Any suggestions for how I can make this clearer? Cause I am beginning to tear out my hair!

Making a difference... can it be done?

I have been so busy the last little while, that I have barely gotten the chance to think about things let alone write! But now tat the dust is settling, I have a reflection to share. Domestic violence. What is it? Does it have to involve physical fighting? How do you help someone who refuses to acknowledge a problem?

I had a client recently who presented with huge and overwhelming evidence of domestic violence in her life. Over a seven week period, no HCP who came in contact with her (and there were alot, two hospitals, three wards!) doubted that her partner was abusive, and many asked me what I was "doing about it". I had discussed the evidence with my client over and over. She denied abuse. She denied personal danger, and declined information on violent relationships. I referred her to social work, expressing to the SW the concerns that existed: My client denied violence. An episode occurred in the hospital, with security and police called. A referral was made to CYPFs. They did an assessment of the environment, and cleared her for discharge. There was not enough evidence of abuse, despite all the concerns raised.

And so, I wonder. We live in this country at present in a climate of intoerance for abuse. Ad's on TV tell us clearly and repeatedly, "It's not ok." The murder of the Kahui twins, of Nia Glassie, and of so many other babies, are held up as warnings. We must intervene, HCP's are told. We must ask every woman if she is abused. But if the woman says she isn't, then nothing, nothing can be done. I don't know for certain if this woman was abused. I don't know for certain that she or her baby were or are at risk. I know we had a trusting, caring relationship. I know she knew it was safe to tell me things... because there were other issues which she did disclose and seek my assistance with. But what is it that we should do, what is that we should say, that will make it possible to change the abuse cycle?

Answers on a postcard.