Long time gone...

Hey, nice to see ya! Where've you been?!  Oh, wait, I guess maybe it's where I been, eh?

So, needless to say, this post is loooooong overdue.  I think this blog's last posting was somewhere around, oh, six months ago?  Huh.  I guess it's been a busy half-year.  Since our last rendevous, old friend, I've packed up and picked up everything to move half a days drive away, officially gaining entry into the world of a practicing (and paid!!!) nurse-midwife, and gloriously helped a powerful mama pull her newest into her arms, standing alongside her bed... (my first out-of-bed birth - woohoo!). I've said goodbye to so many friends --- and in a heartbreaking moment that doesn't end, to my baby brother, standing alongside each of my family members as we realize the swiftness with which goodbye can be missed; I've lain awake at night and struggled with my own internal guilt, fears, remorse, anxieties - both professional and personal.  I worry about meeting the expectations of my clinic administrators, meeting the needs of my clients, about being thorough yet not over-ordering or falling behind; I fret about when the golden hospital privileges will finally be mine, how stressed my partners are in the meantime while they await that day and how tiring it must be to have to back me up until then.

And, of course - I yawn, I drag, I sleep only halfway 98% of the time, hoping/not hoping my pager will go off... if it does, if that next mama's water finally breaks, it will be one more babe closer to independent privileges and a bit of relief for everyone all around (but if it doesn't, of course, it means a bit more sleep for everyone on the home front.) Officially, I'm on call something like four nights a week - but unofficially I've been sleeping with my pager under my pillow just about 24/7 since starting in April - or at least since getting permission to get near hospital patients a month or two ago. It doesn't beep at me often ... yet I still dream that it does, or that it did and I slept through it, or that the batteries died and someone's been frantically trying to find me, yadda yadda....

Oh, but the catches - the sweet, slippery, lovely babes!  (Really, isn't that what it's all about??) When it's down to that moment, the rest of the stress, the worrying, the anxiety melts away.  Until, that is, the hemorrhaging afterwards... or the placenta sticks... or mama passes out later on.... you know, those sorts of things....  But the catch itself, usually, is a rush!
 
I pledge, from this point forward, to stay more loyal to this blog.And I hope you'll stay here, too.  Like any good things, any journey worth taking, it may be a long road, but hopefully worth the travel....

My "birthingway" necklace ... or "mamalove" necklace... or "I Catch" necklace" ... or ??? 
(I'm open to suggestions!) ... for every babe, a bead <3 

 

North by North West...

That - is the question.

At the end of the last post, I alluded to some internal conflict between the two sites where I recently had interviews. The first site, dibbed "North", is located about 5-6 hours from where my family has always called home. It's got quite a few things going for it; the pay is nice (relatively - I don't know what the other nurse-midwives that graduated in my peer group are being paid, for the most part, but the rough starting pay I was quoted for this position is about what I was expecting based on my searches for this area). The site is also a HRSA (Health Resource Service Administration) designated site, and the position is eligible for loan reimbursement --- which means that by committing to work in the role for at least two years, I would say buh-bye to a nice chunk of my student loans (and by working a third year, one more of those big ole monkeys would also take a hike... leaving me just about free and clear on the loan front). My partner would be a midwife who developed the nurse-midwifery practice at the site ten years ago, and has worked to build a great relationship with the handful of family practice doctors who she works alongside (by the way, I LOVE family practice doctors - not such a fan of OB's --- most likely because I simply have worked with very few, but also what I have heard of them hasn't been so favorable...). The main clinic at this site is located in a rural area and is very full-service, offering clients a range of services from x-ray and lab to WIC and massage; the practice also has a secondary site in a large city about 30 minutes away, with limited services (but just as vital care for recipients in the urban area). Call would be shared, possibly 2-2.5 days a week and 1 weekend a month (with an estimated 50 births annually); clinic would be 4 days a week split between the two clinic sites. After visiting "North" --- I felt good, confident, ready to go. I had a strong feeling that I was going to be offered the position, and that I would probably take it.

But. (That "but" is always there, now, isn't it?) In the days that followed our return from our visit, a few things nagged at me. At the end of my visit with the midwife at "North", I asked a few questions (thankfully) regarding the specifics of her midwifery practice. Did she feel that she did a lot of inductions? (She felt like she actually probably did more than she should... red flag?! red flag!! Her rationale? She did take days off - understandable, since she was a solo midwife and had been for the past 10+ years; she stated that she did offer induction at times to her patients before she went on vacation. Hmmm. So - on one hand, this seemed OK. On the other... something to ponder.) What about continuous monitoring versus intermittent? (Answer: If a woman specifically wanted to be off the monitors, she was good with that - but if there was no preference either way, she didn't push for intermittent monitoring either... ???!!? Rationale for this one --- The nursing staff tended to be low, and this made IA difficult to impossible at times. The unit did have telemetry, so continuous monitoring didn't necessarily =/= a patient that was stuck in bed --- but then again, MY unit also has a telemetry unit... which sucks. As much as I'd like to say telemetry means a patient can labor while ambulating, or in the shower, or on the toilet or squatting or standing on her head --- not necessarily. Especially if she's on continuous EFM for nursing/provider convenience in the first place. S0 - another thing to ponder. While again I can understand the reasoning behind using EFM versus the additional time necessary to IA --- and am glad she had that explanation rather than that she needed the security blanket of the paper/electronic strip to ensure babe was doing all right --- I still get nervous at the idea of having hours and hours of paper strips staring at the nurse... and resident... and whoever looks at them and starts seeing oogie-boogie monsters in the shadows of innocent variability or the occasional benign decel.) Those were the two biggies on my "hmmm" list... From just a facility point of view, it would take a while to get used to LDRP's that are half the size of the ones at "my" rural critical access hospital, some of which have shared bathrooms. And residents (I've never worked with residents in my life - they seem like a whole different species!). And - while I won't say specifically which states, I will say that "North" is in a neighboring state which has a longstanding, sometimes vicious football rivalry with our NFL football team. And the Warm One is a diehard football fan.

So there are at least a handful of things that "stick", if that makes sense. Not that I'm not seriously considering things --- it's just not 100%, yet...

And then - there's "West". I flew out there last week and fell in love. I texted the Warm One immediately (or maybe it was after dinner with the midwives - either way, I hadn't been there long) and emphatically told him that I would cry if I didn't get the position. Throughout the course of my two days with the midwives at the "West" practice, my position on the area and their care philosophy didn't change. At all. I want to go there. The town where this practice is located? Beautiful. It's twice the size of the small town I live in; I'm a small town girl, so I can handle that. Their practice? Gorgeous. Clinic exam rooms that are spacious, with huge, full-sized "beds" (seriously, I have no other way to describe them) covered in pillows created for expectant mothers to lounge --- alongside big brothers and sisters, or dads-to-be as well --- and chat, listen to that precious heartbeat, and learn. Beautiful birth-inspired, earthy artwork everywhere. No sterile white walls or ugly, plain paintings meant to be aesthetically neutral. All of my questions - "Do you induce a lot?" "How do you feel about VBAC's?" "Are you open to a new grad?" - are met with just the right answers ... yes, inductions are necessary sometimes --- but not just 'because'! And they do VBAC's, and waterbirths, and LOVE students. It's amazing just to pick up the calm, reassuring vibes as they answer questions - to picture these two women as mentors is mindblowing. The call/clinic schedule is specifically geared to give each of the three midwives a rejuvenating period frequently; at least once every three weeks, each midwife gets a 5-day off stretch (that is, five STRAIGHT DAYS OFF in a row. Heaven. No clinic, no call, nothing, for five days.). Clinic and call are intermixed, often with stretches of 3 days off in a row as well. As one of the midwives stated, "When we are on-call, we usually work hard (the group of three midwives delivers between 250-300 babies annually) - but when we're off, we also 'rest hard'." I can dig that. To be able to serve my patients AND my family? Awesome-sauce. And the hospital is about 2-2.5 larger than 'my' OB unit --- so larger, but not as large as "North"; the nurses were great, and loved the midwives. Downfalls? Cost of living! To find a house under $200k may be impossible, and we would have to trade in one of our cars for an AWD or four-wheel drive; the pay "West" is also significantly ($10-$15k - ish) less than "North", with 2 weeks less vacation time and likely less benefits in other areas, particularly no loan forgiveness. Big things the Warm One is concerned about. And, of course, being a plane ride away from Home. Where the hearts are.

Speaking of home.... And hearts. It's a hard thought to think of leaving everyone that I/we love behind us. As much as I always suck at returning messages, emails, phone calls, etc --- it's even harder with all of this going on. Part of me wants to ignore that any of this is happening - that any changes are coming - but to do that it also means ignoring any references to change. Whether we go "North" or "West" ... or anywhere else ... it hurts. And it's scary. But it will be okay, too.

For the time being, I'm waiting for a phone call. A phone call from "West" could be making a decision that we go that way - throwing caution to the wind and hoping that the cost of living will balance out - or the other way. Or, perhaps, no call, but a "thank you, but no thank you" letter (as they did have two other candidates yet to interview...) leading us "North" ...

~*~*~*

In the meantime, I'm content to be back on the edge of that abyss, arms wide open, and leaning in, knowing that wherever the fall leads, I will land gently...

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year... ~ Or ~ When Things Look Bleak (But Aren't Really That Bad, Right?)

A happy and blessed Christmahanukwanzakah and New Year to all! Pardon my hacking as I make it through the six weeks of dust being knocked off the blog as I start typing through this post *blush* ... (I guess it's been a while. Oops.)

Where've I been? Bouncing between the new-found freedom that comes with ((drumroll please)) no more schooling, the excitement of two Mini's and impending snowflakes and thoughts of Christmas time, and the gnawing concern that my baby-catching days are becoming further distant with each day that passes with no job opportunity at hand.

(Now, this post isn't meant to be a mopey, woe-is-me sort of thing... what fun is that?? As you may have gathered from previous ramblings, it may just lazily wander around this topic and - hopefully - come to some sort of resolution by the end. Over the past week or two, these thoughts have built into a strong mental blizzard, worrying at me like a six-year-old wiggling a loose tooth. It's amazing, though, how cathartic putting such thoughts out into the universe can be... I'm looking forward to that sense of peace that I know I'll find after hitting "publish" and sharing this with the world, even if no one actually reads this blog any more.)

Anyway - back on track. No time for anxiety or worrying too much about the job situation in the first weeks of December; our family celebrates Christmas, so between the holiday preparations themselves (taking the Mini's out to my dad's to find the 'perfect' tree, then trimming the tree and decorating the house, etc) as well as holiday concerts for both girls, cookie baking, the traditional trips to see the big red man, and all the other festivities, I was content to wait. (As of the first of December, I had contact with both Dee and the physicians I work with considering adding a CNM; I also had an interview lined up for a part-time CNM position at a family planning clinic...) It was only after all of the "fun" ended - including the last-minute shopping runs, an unexpected slippery couple of inches of snow (pretty to give us at least a bit of a white Christmas, festivily enough --- but oh-how-slick!), and a surprise attack of fevers, aches, and slug-mimicking for the Mini-est - that everything caught me. And by everything, I mean everything. I realized that just about ALL of my student loans were suddenly coming into repayment (which, considering I have not only my graduate school loans to repay, but also those for my ADN-to-BSN bridge program, and my ADN program, and the assortment of loans I had as I was waiting to get into a program... it sucks. Did I ever tell you the story of how it took me six years to get my 2-year associate degree, by the way? Good times, good times....). My student loans, and the Christmas bills (which, of course we tried to go low, we ALWAYS do... but isn't this how it is every year?! Suddenly *someone's* favorite team is selling 'stock' - which by the way is non-transferable and pays no dividends, but does look good on the wall... and who else owns a piece of America's team, right? - and this other thing is on the best, most SPECTACULAR, *AwEsOmEsT* SALE EVER!!! so it needs to be bought now... but if s/he gets that, then of course this one needs this, and yadda yadda.... Oh hey, isn't this Brazil?! How'd we get so far off track here, and can I even use these sweet new snowshoes south of the equator? Where's that map?!) are coming in, and no one was as excited with the gifts that I worked so hard to get *just right* for them, and I was exhausted, and my schedule at work wasn't right and I ended up bawling like a baby because I was exhausted when I saw it to begin with (and I HATE crying, especially when I'm upset/angry/trying to discuss something...) and why was I on a night shift to begin with on Christmas Eve night - my holiday is Christmas Eve, evening, arrrgh?!? and it was just the longest week ever.... and so on, and so on.

And it just kept going. And the family planning job, that I thought I had interviewed fabulously for, apparently was a big bomb. Was it exactly the perfect job I wanted, and was I a wonderful candidate who interviewed like a rockstar? Uh, not so much probably - but on the other hand, I thought I was pretty good and would (all in all) fit in well and enjoy the job. The biggest downside, of course, was the no-baby-catching. My biggest downside - I thought - was that in my typical fashion (ha, ha, pun ahead!) I neglected to actually try on an outfit for the interview until 11:30 p.m. the night before, and the outfit I planned to wear - a sweet little black and teensy, thin blue pin-striped suit... - had somehow gotten a couple of sizes too big (!%@^*), leaving me flustered in the wee a.m. hours trying to decide if I would try to pull it off with some sort of cinching (sans belt loops, of course) or go a little more casual. Anyway, it's starting to look like we're in the tropics again here, so I'm going to leave the interview territory and my fashion deficiencies (for proof of my fashion sense, see right), and go back to my other worries now.

I was assured that I would hear back in about a week about the position, and truly did expect to; the clinic had been short-staffed for awhile, they needed help, all the signals I picked up were a 'go'. I waited... and waited... and waited... (and sent a 'thank you' email...) and waited some more... and nothing. No "thanks, but no thanks" call, no polite "we've gone another way" rejection letter, nada.

I've also just been hanging with both of the nearby clinics; I emailed Dee a few days ago, gently hinting that I'd love any updates if she had any from her clinic administrator (who had started the process of checking into adding another CNM around the end of November, and had thought she would know more one way or the other in three weeks...). Checking my email neurotically - the one where messages from either Dee or my current physician group would contact me - doesn't seem to be doing much more than giving me little blisters, so I'm at a loss. It seems to be a fine line between being pushy, persistent, and the perfect amount of persuasive... it's just so difficult to read where things are at.

At this point, honestly, I'd just love to not be in this no-man's land. If all three (really, just the clinic groups - I've more or less written off the family planning clinic, although I may call the director just to touch base) facilities would just give me an answer, one way or the other --- I'd be happy, even if it's not the answer I really want to hear.

Even working as an RN in L&D is getting to be a struggle now. It's difficult to not step on toes, and to remember my scope of practice... and I miss being the midwife, making the calls, being able to do (and not do - or to be able to say, "we're not going to do this - we don't have to do this, everything is fine.") ... or if a baby is coming too quickly for the physician to make it, having to try to stay back and have another nurse 'catch', or have a mama try to not push --- one of the worst feelings in the world, and not good for mama or baby --- to provide the assurance needed to everyone that I wasn't trying to "take matters into my own hands" on some level. Awkward, awkward....

Soooooo, about the IHS.... 23 pages of application for *possible* loan reimbursement, if funds are ever available? Oh heck, why not. What else do I have to do???

This One's Not About Midwifery

Most of midwifing is about joy, whether subtle or overt – the excitement of a new pregnancy, the welcoming of a new life into the world, the beauty of a woman as she blossoms throughout the stages of life. The days when things aren’t so easy – long, drawn-out labors, difficult clients, or struggles to understand vague symptoms and nagging ailments – pale in comparison to the wonder of a mother gazing into her firstborn’s wide eyes.

This post, though, is about those days, few and (thankfully) far in between… as a nurse, a friend, and a family member, I’ve seen grief. Grief that sneaks up alongside you, taps you on the shoulder, and then takes you out at the knees; finally helping you up and keeping pace with you, step for step, until you feel as though you can no longer take it. I’ve worked with families who’ve had babies born still – babies born fully developed, perfect in every way; other babies have been lost far too early, months before they were expected to arrive, yet already eagerly anticipated and much loved. I’ve known and cried with families as they mourn the loss of babies diagnosed with terminal illnesses, not compatible with life, and supported them as they honored their loved, tiny infants the best way they knew how. As a midwife – remember, I have only been able to claim that title for two weeks – I have yet to embrace women and their families in those desperate, dark hours… but I will be there.

My grandpa died.

When it comes down to it, that’s what this post is really about. Barely two months ago, my grandpa – my Mini’s “Puppa” – was diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia – and given a prognosis ranging from moderate to poor (depending on the treatment regime chosen and the response of the disease to it, of course). One dose of chemotherapy didn’t significantly improve Puppa’s counts, but didn’t drag him down at all, either; he still fought like hell. Even a nasty, raging infection to his IV port didn’t take the fight out – it was only when his oncologist really explained why he had recommended hospice care (rather than continued chemo treatments) that he just gave in, and let go… within a week, he was gone.

To me, Puppa was larger than life – he wore Brut cologne, farmed his entire working life, fished and hunted like a “real man” in the Midwest would, and ate headcheese and liverwurst (ewww). My memory is flooded with treasures from my childhood; this is the man who taught me how to bait a fish hook (and get a fish off the hook, once caught), climb up on a tractor to ride beside him, play cribbage, and to open a glass bottle of Sun-Drop with a bottle opener. I could go on and on – like any good granddaughter – but I’ll keep those memories as seeds to plant for the Mini’s, or if nothing else, for a day when I’m a little more awake, and it’s a little earlier. Memories that they may lose (or have never experienced) like how Puppa always had a teeny Tupperware container in his shirt pocket for them, with just two jelly beans or marshmallows in for them, or how on birthdays, he had a special card just for the birthday kid with exactly the number of crumpled dollar bills as years old you were turning, the envelope and card addressed in his loopy writing… his love of Diet Sun-Drop – but *only* in the old glass bottles, not in cans, and not in the ‘new’ glass bottles. And the dimes – always the dimes…

When death comes, it’s amazing how fast/slow things move. I swear it was just yesterday that my grandpa walked into my living room, showed me the lab results from his recent hospital stay, and asked me what I thought of them (as my heart dropped to the floor). And, just a few days before that – it had to have been – we were all out on the pontoon boat, with everyone healthy and happy. But it seems like it’s been months and months of watching him slowly fade away….

I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child, or a spouse, or a parent… yet I can’t fathom thinking that I’ve “only” lost my grandpa. How do you compare this hurt? I feel selfishly grateful that this is really the first time in my memory that I have lost someone close to death; I’m also so grateful that my family is so close to begin with, and that the Mini’s know their greatgrandparents so well. The very last words that my grandpa really said to me, a few days before he passed away – looking me right in the eye, with a squeeze of his hand – were, “Thank you.” When I asked what he was thanking me for, he said, “For it all.”

To everyone who has gone through this grief, whether the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, a sweet child, or the whisper of a child yet to be --- let yourself be embraced by the open arms of those who care. Open yourself to the friends who can offer words of comfort, hope, and love; to the family that shares your memories and knows stories outside of your own. Realize the true beauty of the people who will forgive you when you 'disappear' for a few days or weeks, lost in your own world of clouded thoughts and reminiscences. I feel so blessed and have so much appreciation for everyone who made the last few weeks, especially the last few days, easier than they might ever have been otherwise.

Thank you… for it all. XOXO

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

(P.S. This post formed in my head as I finally took a hot, hot shower, letting the past few days and weeks rinse over me; as I got out and wrapped myself in warm pajamas, I was overwhelmed with the scent of Brut…. *tear* Things always end up all right, don't they?)

I have been blessed...

I started to write this post last week, and never got around to finishing it. The title was different, and the whole tone of it - it was a little more playful, with an undercurrent theme that mirrored Tigger's theme from the classic Pooh cartoons (for those of you familiar with Pooh's adventures... and aren't we all??) - was meant to be a light-hearted-yet-deep reflection of the wonderful thing about blessings in life.

And I have. Truly, in so many ways, my life and my family, are lucky. As I (finally) sit down to type this, though, I just don't quite have the same levity as I did a week or so ago when I started composing this in my head. I was going to recite the list of changes that have happened over the past two months (comps, graduation, etc, etc...). Instead, I'm quiet; the Warm One is battling a fierce cold, the Littles are runny-nosed and cranky, and I've passed my boards exam. I am, officially and with no holds barred, a certified nurse-midwife.

The colds will clear up, and the Kleenexes and textbooks (and highlighters and scattered notepages) that have overtaken our home will eventually be cleared away as well. Some will be recycled, or tossed; others may be stored in the office "just in case" - who knows if I'll need that text again, or maybe I'll decide to 'recycle' it to an incoming student?

The other blessings in my life are just as clear: my family, who have been so close and willing to step in whenever needed during this journey. The Midwife, even when things became rocky, was a blessing in disguise; I learned things, personally and as a midwife, that I needed to know, from her. From D, and from all of the women and families along the way. From so many close, wonderful friends - some nearby, and some far away... women who I may never have met in person, and yet who I can (and have) shared so many of my deepest fears and funniest moments; these are my sisters and peers, both fellow students and mothers.

And, of course, the Warm One and the Littles (one of my proudest moments so far? When the Bigger Little 'corrected' the younger, who had thought that "Dimbo's" - Dumbo - mommy was being 'naughty' in the movie. The elder of my daughters explained that Dumbo's mother was upset that the other elephants were being mean to the baby elephant and making fun and picking on him because of his ears; that sometimes mommies had to stand up for their babies. It was a touching conversation for a mother to overhear between a 5 and a 3...)

*~*~*~*~*~*

Some blessings are a little harder to understand... in the months since my last post, my family has been stretched apart, and pulled together in an even stronger way. My grandfather, the "boss" of the family, was diagnosed with an aggressive leukemia just before Labor Day, underwent one round of chemotherapy, and has become progressively weaker since then. After a bout with a massive infection and complications due to the infection and its treatment, hospice - and the care that goes along with it - nurses are a daily reminder of the change. It's so hard to see the difference between the strong, capable man that taught me how to bait a fish hook and tossed hay bales into a barn loft, and the saddened man that cancer has made my grandpa. The thought of saying goodbye - along with the pain of seeing my grandfather this way, as well as how it hurts my grandmother - is only soothed by the idea that the time we are gifted by this allows for storytelling, memories, "I love you's".... my family has been together much more in these past few weeks than in the past years (we've always been close), although I don't know if this outweighs the pain that my grandparents are feeling. At this point, all we can do is "Let go and Let God..."

Will work for Food...

Seriously, I will... I certainly have a bit of a love affair with food. Especially this time of year, with the county fair in town: cream puffs, beer-battered cheese curds, funnel cakes.... Oh, my poor achin' arteries.

And summer. I love summer too. (Can it seriously be Labor Day already?! I want to cry! I do *not* do well with winter... sigh...) Anyway.... this blog has clearly been neglected for the past month or so. Oops.

I've been a little busy, to be fair. Since the last time we met, I scratched off each and every last clinical hour and visit I needed to meet the requirements of my program, as well as having a "declaration of safety" submitted by Dee (signifying that she feels I am a safe, beginning-level practitioner); one of my biggest feats was taking - and passing - the first of the last 3 big tests standing between myself and midwifery. I'm engaged, descended, and flexed - now on to finishing the rest of these cardinal movements, little by little...

(was that too corny?!)

From a personal standpoint, things have also been busy. Family life has been hectic as always, with ups and downs. My bigger-Mini started Kindergarten (!) last week, which seems incredible; I still remember the moment she was laid in my arms and the immense feelings of wonder and

awe I felt to be a mother to such a wondrous little being; my Mini-er is beginning preschool this week (and memories of her labor, and birth, are even more vivid; the moments in the shower, visualizing her path down to birth, and the moment when the Warm One proclaimed her as a "little girl"... so clear!). Harder to work through these past weeks have been the continuing struggles with my brother and his own battles (battles which he alone can fight, but that as a family we have been trying to find ways to support him in...), the diagnosis of Lyme's disease in my father, and acute, aggressive leukemia in my grandfather. It's painful and exhausting to see the toll, both physical and emotional, that's accumulated across the family lines in the past weeks and months; through hopes, prayers, and support (and communication), I'm waiting for a strengthening of the bonds that hold us together.

But, back to the "Work" thought that started this whole rambling... I'm starting to think more seriously about jobs again. (It's getting to be time, I suppose. I have one more "school" test - the competency/completion exam, after which I am officially a graduate nurse-midwife, and the final step is the national certification exam). I've realized, after doing a phone interview or two over the past few months - mind you I haven't interviewed in years! - that I need to brush up on my interviewing skills. I thought maybe I'd toss out a few random, jarbled thoughts on here, if nothing else, to help myself sort out a little more about myself (you know how they - "they" being interviewers, of course - always ask about your strengths/weaknesses, what you would like to improve on, etc...)

About Me...

* I'm not there yet, but I'll be there soon!

* I don't drink coffee... but I anticipate that I will start to do so soon...

* I run habitually late (not much, but just enough to be a few minutes late...)

* But - see above - I'm reliably late those few minutes!

* I learn by doing, not by reading/listening

* I'm quiet - but only for so long. I will open up (you may be sorry....)

* I do have a sarcastic streak... and a good sense of humor!

* I may hold back a bit at first - let my confidence build, and I will shine.

* I trust women, their bodies, their intuition, and their abilities.

* I am a very dedicated, motivated employee.

* I can't even come up with enough to write here! Man, I better hire myself out to a farm or

something instead....

And what goes around... (on depression and stress, too)

As they say.

Ebb and flow, yin and yang, yadda yadda. After my little meltdown Friday, things eventually lightened up. (If you've followed the blog at all, or know me, I'm sure you know this is nothing new... or maybe this isn't just me personally, but something that is a natural phenomenon of this thing called life. Maybe it's not unique to mothers, or women, or grad school, or th

ose of us who deal with depression. Maybe it is. Does it matter? Not really.)

Anyway. I posted a similar cry for help, bemoaning my situation on Facebook; basically, that the Warm One was at work, I was at the end of my rope with the girls and had no idea what happened to my patience, and the end of the weekend (the Warm One works a weekend program - Fri/Sat/Sun only, therefore leaving the girls and I to our own devices all weekend) seemed ages away. I was desperate.

And out of nowhere, a good friend came to my rescue. She invited the girls and I over, to visit, to play, to stay. It took us hours and hours to get moving and get packed, but eventually, we got there. She opened her home to us, the girls played (she has a daughter the same age as the Mini-est), and we were able to catch up. We spent Saturday together, just hanging out. Was I the most fun and exciting person to be around? No - but I hope I was a better mother and friend than I felt like I had been earlier that week. Little by little, I am crawling out of this miserable, stress-filled hole.

Before the girls and I left, I managed to pull myself up out of my funk enough to send a copy of my resume/cover letter to the physicians I work with as a labor/delivery nurse, simply to introduce the idea of adding a nurse-midwife to their practice (I've been hoping to have the 'right' moment to talk to some of them about this over the past year or so, but it just hasn't happened); I also emailed my nurse-manager to touch base. My fingers are crossed - even though my breath is far from held - that good things could grow from this tiny seed being planted.

The Warm One also came home last night and shared that another doctor, an incredibly sweet family physician working for a nearby tribal clinic, had asked where I was at with my job hunt; she mentioned that the tribal clinic had been trying to fill an open physician spot for the past year, and she was willing to bring up my name at the next physician's meeting to see what the interest there would be. Again, fingers crossed... I've worked at another nearby tribal health organization in the past, and love working with Native populations. The culture and history, combined with the deep relationships between families, make it a community I would be honored to be invited to work within. (I've requested information from the IHS about their loan repayment program, but have yet to complete the application process; it's on my radar as yet another thought...)

*And, if nothing else - this again cements to me the fact that I cannot - at least at this point in my life - function without antidepressants. I know that there are many different viewpoints on this and whether or not medication is something that is "right" or "necessary" but until I have one or two fewer things going on ... I can't let myself - and my family - go down this road. It never fails that when I manage to go without taking the pills for a short period of time - whether because I fail to get a refill in a timely manner, or because I miss one or two, and then tell myself I still feel "great!" - I find myself in a similar murky fog within a matter of days or a week. Someday, I will be able to truly dedicate the time to find other positive

lifestyle changes to experiment against this headgame, but as for now... I'm gonna take the easy way. I need to be able to accept sweet love notes from the Mini and appreciate them; I need to be able to have patience with my girls when they are being kids, instead of being over-anxious and stressed... I can't see the confusion and hurt in their eyes when they look to me for comfort, and don't get it; this parenting thing is hard. I feel like I hardly see the Mini's lately... and when I do, they're not my sweet little girls anymore! They don't listen... they're sassy... they fight. I don't know if it's a stage, or if it's related to not seeing me, or if it's how it's always been (and I'm just seeing things differently because I'm stressed), or if their actions are feeding off of me, or ...?!

Mama Needs a Time-Out

Seriously.

Whatever happened to TGIF?! So much for Friday, I guess... whatever optimism and good vibes I had going into the earlier part of this week somehow dissipated as the week rolled on. In the wee hours of Wednesday morning, while I was gearing up for the clinical week - I usually do clinicals with Dee Weds/Thurs/Fri - I woke up with a killer migraine. (I've had migraines since I was four or five ... nothing new there. They've probably been in the best control of my life for the past year or two, actually; I've found a daily preventative med that seems to help, and for the first time ever, I've found an abortive that seems to actually knock them down when they do kick in. Score. But - that being said - I do still get the occasional nasty f*@!er, but never, or rarely, has one ever woken me in the middle of the night before... so this one sucked!) I did my best to get through the day Wednesday with Dee, but even after taking my abortive, and all my usual knocker-outers, I had nothing and had to leave early ---- which I hated doing. After a few hours of solid rest and a combination of narcotic, another abortive, heat/ice, and some topical cream to my neck/shoulders/etc (which by the way was not a good idea - more on that later), I was somewhat coherent again.

Unfortunately, the arthritis cream that I picked up to rub onto my neck/shoulders/temple (similar to what I usually use, but a different brand... I can't even think of what I picked up that day) was awful. Whether it was the intended effect or not, it caused my skin to feel as though it was on fire - my palms, my shoulders, and my neck raged at me the entire afternoon, evening, and next day, even after scrubbing in an attempt to relieve the sensation. And, of course, smart cookie that I am, I slipped my contacts out (and then tried to replace them the next morning) with residue apparently still remaining. Good gracious golly. Not only was I living in the migraine hangover, I was also fairly certain I was close to blind...

Then, when I got out to my car --- I found it egged. What. The. ... Seriously. Of course, as usual, I didn't have any spare time (why would I?! Any of you who know me, know that I don't generally run with spare time...) to rinse the gook off, much less for a real car wash. Okay, so it was only one egg (or maybe two) on the driver's side door and window, but for the love of mud --- why?! I really, really was NOT in the mood and, as I'm sure you can imagine, would have had some not-so-pleasant things to say to whoever thought sharing their breakfast fare with my vehicle was a good idea.

The rest of the week has pretty much continued as such. Though I am sooooo close to the end of my necessary clinical hours - T-minus 66 and counting - I've hardly knocked any off this week, thanks to the lovely migraine and having to cut out of clinicals early yesterday (Thursday) as I was scheduled to work in Babyland.

So it's been a non-productive, miserable-feeling, blah kind of week. Oh, and that "other" position that I was excited about? I had a phone interview Wednesday evening, post-migraine... I thought it went all right, even though it didn't sound like my "dream" position by any means; while I didn't expect to get hired as they disclosed on the phone that they were doing a second interview for a previous applicant the next day, it still stung today when I received an email telling me that my "career goals didn't appear to be a fit" for the position, and thanking me anyway. Ouch. I guess it just is a downer, all around, even though I had more or less decided that I wasn't all that interested... *sigh*

To top it off, I'm finally home, getting to spend some time with my family --- and my lovely young ladies are not listening to me, I'm incredibly crabby and cranky with them, and I just don't have any patience for them, for myself, or for anything. I don't like how I feel, how I'm reacting to them, or anything at all. In desperation, after too much hollering after too much whining, I sent them to separate rooms for extended time-outs --- but really, deep down, I'm the one who needs the time-out.

Birth Story: Nella Cordelia

Have you read Nella Cordelia's birth story? If not, please do (have a box of kleenex handy - fair warning!) http://www.kellehampton.com/2010/01/nella-cordelia-birth-story.html

(thanks to At Your Cervix for sharing this link)