The labor of sitting...

I'm sitting here, fingers numb and skin goose-pimpled, with my mind forced to wander aimlessly between the usual time wasters --- Facebook, annoying yet addictive games, checking email. The same sorts of things that I would (to be honest I have to admit this) find myself doing if I was at home right now ... Except I'm not.

And, of course, my eyes flit (as moths to a flame) neurotically to The Machine. Or, rather, Machines, as they are spaced strategically throughout the Birthing Center so that even if one tried desperately to avoid glimpsing them, it would be nearly inevitable. The Machine dictates the majority of nursing decisions it seems, often causing panic among providers not even involved with a patient's care; the ability to see everything that's occurring within a woman's womb from meters and meters away can cause a flurry of activity and a rush of footsteps to a laboring woman's bedside. At times this may be helpful - at other times, privacy is invaded, quiet moments of solitude shattered, and situations being managed calmly and appropriately are elevated to unnecessary proportions of stress.

So... I try to consciously remind myself to focus my attention away from The Machine. I'll let the screen-saver take over. I'll read, I'll eat (oh dear, considering the table laden with holiday treats), I'll train these fingers in my newly budding crochet skills.

Or - I'll look over there again... Log back in...

And then glimpse at the clock (another Device of far too much consequence in this situation). There's a curve to be followed, although to be fair we fell off of that curve long ago. I don't mind - progress is progress, though slow but steady - although the whispers that provide The Machines and Devices may have other thoughts on this. Is it time to consult? Insert some sort of additional tube or device (even though this mama has just about every other tube and line you could imagine already...)?

My mind wanders to the peaceful, joyful announcements of my midwife sisters delivering in birth centers and homes: "a baby girl, delivered strong and healthy after a long, hard day's work into her mama's strong arms" ... "After many hours of dancing, swaying, and support a baby boy welcomed into her fathers hands..." I can only wonder, is the emphasis on Machines and Devices at these birth days, or on mamas and babies?

{ { pregnant ----- very pregnant ---- pause... } }

A day later, a conclusion. Two hours of pushing, tears and four-letter words of frustration later - a big, beautiful baby was cradled into *her* mama's arms. Even with the reassuring picture The Machine showed for every one of those 68,220 seconds (roughly) of the day's work, hands rushed to pull a stunned but transitioning babe quickly from her mother's breast. A steady heartbeat, response to stimulation and mama soothed me that babe -- though initially wide-eyed and breathless -- needed not to be "cut and run" (to the warmer to be "checked out") but rather allowed to remain with cord intact, pulsing oxygen-rich blood to her strongly-beating heart as she opened her lungs and breathed in new life.

But - again - slave to Devices and cowerer of those who oversee them, I am freshly new enough in my role to not want to step on too many toes, piss off the "wrong" types of nurses, get "that" reputation. I  bring young babe to mama's chest, (hopefully, or certainly tried to...) soothed with quiet reassurance of her strong heartbeat and response to a rubdown by the nurse. The cord stayed intact, babe with mom gaining tone and crying lustily, before I fumbled a cord clamp on and gave a tearful dad instructions to cut the tough bond between the double clamps, and finally seeing the break for baby to be removed for "the things we do".

It was not the labor or birth that I imagine my midwife sisters in other settings witnessing... But in the same thread, not the same mama, the same support system, the same overhead model of care either. I long for the "just sit on your hands!" keep-out-of-where-you-don't-belong MOA that I've been taught, and yet haven't quite built up the courage to implement it in practice here. In the months and years to come, maybe there WILL be more tea, more swaying, more breathing and back rubs and foot massages; fewer epidurals and elective inductions, less fear if the "what if's".

And  - maybe - smaller clocks...

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.

Our Strength

I've been thinking about strength today. Mainly, because I am feeling wiped out - emotionally, physically, mentally, financially... you name it. And yet - a part of me truly believes that I just need to give in and accept that this is truly part of the process. I'm all right with this; it's just kind of, well, a drag.

Plus side: I started at my new site, officially, today. LOVE it. Everyone, so far, is amazing. Very welcoming. My new preceptor, "Dee", is introducing me to everyone (docs, nursing staff, random folks walking through the hallway...) as "the student midwife who we're trying to convince to stay here with us as a second midwife with our doctors & I". I so want to be that midwife, and am trying not to get my hopes up, but if there was a wishing well in front of me right now, and I had a penny to toss in, do you think you could guess what my wish would be?? (I won't tell, of course... but if you guessed, well, anyway...)

Not so plus side: I'm exhausted. I think I already alluded to that above. I started trying to type this post almost an hour ago, and keep getting distracted. Like, for example, I wanted a cute little pic to post with this (because honestly, doesn't a sweet picture make everything easier to read??) -- that took forever. Stupid picnik.com and it's stupidness. Also, we stayed overnight at this hunting cabin my grandparents have (I actually love it - it's very remote, quiet, and peaceful --- and a *tad* closer to my new clinical site as well --- but, there's always a but, right?) I got NO sleep. Like, very, very little sleep. A combination of woodtick paranoia (if you live anywhere that ticks are prevalent, you know what I'm talking about - nasty little creepy crawly vampire things - I had the heebie-jeebies ALL NIGHT LONG thinking they were stuck on me), not having the migraine-preventative med that I usually take at bedtime (which has a convenient side effect of zonking me out nicely), a less-than comfy air mattress, and first-day jitters (will my alarm go off? will I make it in on time? etc), all added up for a loooong night and weird dreams. I dreamt that I was living in a strange apartment building --- I think it was early 20th century, yet there was an odd open-air elevator to get up to the upper floors; very odd, in fact, in that you wrapped yourself around what was basically a fireman's pole and held on for dear life as you shot up it. If you let go ---- not good. I was doing okay until, all of a sudden, I was almost at the top and realized my arms were very tired, slippery, and I just didn't think I could hold on; plus, I realized I also had another "tier" to go (apparently, somehow, to get to my "level" I had to switch poles?! Very ... odd...). So that was one unsettling dream. Another involved the cottage we were at; we were apparently taking turns sleeping (in the dream) and someone - my older brother, I think, looked out the door all of a sudden and someone had jumped in one of our vehicles and taken off out of the blue. (There was much more to this dream, when I woke up --- at the time, it was very vivid and I meant to share it with the Warm One... but being that it was 0530, I decided to let him sleep, and know the details have faded. Anyway, it was another disturbingly vivid dream, I guess.)

I think, what this all boils down to, is that I need a good night's sleep. But,instead of going to bed at a reasonable hour (10 p.m. or so) as I had planned, it's almost midnight and I'm just deciding to call this blog post a night. It's nowhere near what I had planned to write (is there anything about nurse-midwifery, really?? Not much!!), but it's good enough. Suffice it to say - I feel stressed; I need to work more so that I can pay my bills, yet I need to get through clinicals so I can graduate. I also need to study more so I feel less anxiety about upcoming boards, comps, etc. I also need to work on family stuff - or maybe let it go; a close family member is dealing with heavy stuff (addiction) and I don't know how to help him. And yet.... I think it's all going to be okay....

(and, big cheers to my CKC'ers --- one just got married, one just passed comps, and one is on her way to CB!! Jaeger all around!!)

Long time, no see...

It's been 19 days since I had a delicious delivery, and it's hurting. In some ways, it seems like longer, but in others --- it's not so bad. The time with my family, to catch up on sleep, and to get a few other things that have been dearly lacking (car maintenance, bills, etc) back on track... two thumbs up. Missing the lovely women and experiences of twos becoming threes and families adding extras... not so much.

To keep this short and sweet (and I'll tell you why in two short, evil words: the Paper), I'm gonna to limit myself to exactly two minutes of typing, no more. It's 2038 right now, so by the time my computer hits 2040, I'm publishing this post as is*. (I might however sneak back and add a pic to pretty it up, I do reserve that right.) **I totally lied, it's now 2059 & I am just hitting the submit button. Oh, well... you'll see why...

Anyway, on the 'professional' side - hoping to start my next leg of the clinical journey at another nearby site within the next few weeks. This midwife that I am hoping to work with is much more "my" style, from what I know of her. I am very much excited to work with her, and my fingers, toes, and possibly even fallopian tubes (maybe not - that seems as though that might not be so good?!) are crossed that it works it. Stay tuned!

On the personal side... recently I had the bittersweet pleasure of working with a beautiful family who had the painful loss of their baby shortly after the midpoint of their pregnancy. The loss wasn't expected, but wasn't necessarily a surprise either; going into the pregnancy, there were certain risk factors that they knew increased the risk for stillbirth and/or preterm birth. The grace and strength at which they accepted their child's short life, introducing their older child to his angel sibling and then saying goodbye, warmed my heart. I only hope that I was able to help in the grieving process, or at least communicate the value and appreciation that we all have for the sweet little life that they have had and are remembering. One service that I always forget the name of in these (thankfully rare) situations - and always wish that I could remember, but can't until later - is the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep organization (http://www.nowilaymedowntosleep.org/home/) , which is a non-profit group of professional photographers that is dedicated to help families who have experienced an early pregnancy (after 25 weeks or so, according to their site) or neonatal death. Though we do take pictures of our babes, they in no way can compare with the beautiful gift that this foundation can offer to their parents.

To all the angel babies, and families who are missing them... you are loved, and not forgotten...