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 

 

Opening

That last post? It was the darkening before the dawn... the cold, bitter rains of March right before springs first tentative blooms poke through the thawing ground... the tensing of every last muscle, stressed, fearful, fatigued -- and then a loved one's arms are there to encircle and release it all to the universe itself.

Do I need to step back a mile or three? Maybe that would help...

From a career/baby-catching standpoint - you could say that the last post was somewhat colored by the sludginess I've felt in my job search. (Which, in itself --- seems somewhat silly... I didn't expect to come out of school with a job in hand, as nice as it would have been. But still - now that it's been five months, I'm getting a little antsy...) Every day that I go without that delightful weight sliding into my hands, without gifting mothers with the words "here's your beautiful child" ... it weighs on me. Sure - I can still go to work as an L&D nurse; I can still whisper forbidden encouragement into the ears of hardworking mama's ("go ahead... eat some crackers... nibble on that granola bar..." ), but it's not the same. The mothers, the fathers - they know I am the nurse; they have only just met me, and even if we have "clicked" and even if they can sense that I am there for them and their babe --- I am still, just, the nurse.

I've sent resumes, CV's, emails of inquiry. I've had an ongoing email chain, complete with an powerpoint proposal, to the physician group that I've worked with for the past five and a half years - a handful of great family doctors who practice this close to the midwifery model of care. Throughout my clinical rotation with Dee, there was the shadow of a promise of her practice adding a second CNM. Nothing. Zipzilchzerozuess. "My" doctors decided that while they felt there would be interest in a CNM in our area, they feared "there would not be enough demand for a full-time position". A few attempts to get in touch with Dee (after a promising email before the holidays that her administrator was going to start the process to try to get the wheels going...) weren't returned. A promising position - complete with loan forgiveness via the HRSA program - seemed very likely and suddenly... *poof*! Que sera, sera.

But. On top of this, I live in the Midwest. In winter. A gray, long, cold Midwestern winter. The task of looking for a job - refreshing the same search engines, day after day (many times multiple times daily) - combined with more and more student loan payments being auto-debited as the days stayed devoid of sunshine ... you get the picture. Little by little, negativity begins to replace the fresh enthusiasm of graduation; did I really just sacrifice three arduous years and an incredible sum of blood/sweat/tears/trees/memories/etc (not to mention indebtness to the good old Department of Education/Loan Repayment Program), only to continue to work very part-time as a labor and delivery nurse?! Am I undesirable as a CNM?? Is there something that screams "don't hire this girl, for pete's sake!!" on my resume? Do I need to eat more chocolate - will that help??

So - anyway. It was a long couple of weeks, and maybe that post reflected some of that. In the end, I resigned myself -- or liberated myself -- to the old "letting go, and letting God" (or the Creating, or the Universe, or destiny, or karma, or what have you... I'm not entirely sure, myself) take over.

And - it worked.

Not long afterwards, I heard back from the site that seemed like it could be the "perfect" fit (we'll call that site "North" for the sake of, well, easy-ness). It turned out the midwife's mother had been ill and unfortunately passed away; that had prolonged the interview process, but ultimately within the next week or so I spoke with the midwife and HR folks, and set up a time to go up and meet them all in person and tour the site. I also sent a CV to a second site - this one a private midwife practice out west (we'll call this one "West" for those of you following along), and had some nice back-and-forth communications with them via email. After my first Skype interview (interesting enough), I was invited to fly out there and meet them in person as well. Both visits/meetings went great, and now I sit with one likely offer (from "North", pending the approval of one final committee) and a call back next week from "West", where there were still 2-3 other applicants to be interviewed.

My dilemma may or may not be solved by next week's call by "West" ... but that's another post!

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???

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 ...?!

Unfinished Business

"A peacefulness follows any decision, even the wrong one." ~Rita Mae Brown

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

As the days roll on and my birth experiences seem further distant, I realize there are quite a few loose ends that I need to wrap up. I have yet to hear from the 'new' midwife... I wonder, sometimes, if things will fall into place when I take care of the leftover details from my last rotation.

So, on my to-do list today, I plan to pen thank you notes for both the Midwife and her wonderful nurse; I'm going to run these to the clinic and drop them off, as well as small gifts of appreciation for both of them. (I hope this doesn't come off as suck-upish --- does it? Oh, well... it just seems to be the polite thing to do... maybe I'll pick up cookies for the rest of the MA's, etc, too.) I still regret that I never said goodbye to the Midwife's MA, but needless to say, as I walked by her on my way out of the office on that last day - it wasn't the time... she was in conversation with a few other nurses, and I was red-eyed and a mess.

I also have another small package to send off, but that one will have to wait until I find the address I need; this one, too, goes to someone who I feel badly that I didn't follow up with, and who I thought really was wonderful.

Finally, I need to decide if I'm going to give up on the 'new' midwife and desperately hunt for another site. After six weeks of no-baby, no-mama --- I just don't know. I don't like this feeling at all. I feel unemployed, lazy, useless, rejected. The old feelings of paranoia are starting to creep in. Is the 'new' midwife trying to tell me something? Maybe she changed her mind about working with me... but is trying to drop hints by ignoring me long enough that I just go away...

*sob*

(right before I posted, my advisor/faculty "RCC" called me back and we came up with a plan --- I emailed another potential midwife, and she is going to try to call the 'new' midwife to touch base... *sigh*. stay tuned...)

My own dystocia...

Dys *to * cia : noun

DYSTOCIA: slow or difficult labor or delivery. (From Greek dystokia)

I'm stuck. Like a wayward fetus or a uterus that doesn't quite have it going on yet --- something just ain't right. At times, I feel like I get in my groove and things start moving along; my rhythm is a-rockin'. And then... something happens to knock me right back down.

This makes me wonder, right from the start, how far back I'm going to have to go to "fix" things. Midwifery is supposed to - and I love this - "high touch, low tech". Me, on the other hand... I'm more of a "high tech, low touch" kind of girl... I've never been a hugger, and I'd much rather text or email than talk directly to someone. (Is it just me, or is it a generational thing?) With all of this stuff--- I can't think of a better term for it --- going on with the Midwife in the past couple of weeks, so many friends have been in touch, saying "Call me", "give me a call", "let's talk!", etc, etc... And it sounds sooo good, and promising... but I can't. I just can't. Instead, I send out a pathetic little email or text, promising to call later, or assuring them that everything is "better" now, or that it's figured out...

(If you are one of those who's been in touch --- I love you, you're awesome... please, please don't take it personally. It's definitely one of my flaws, and - like so many other things I have going on - I don't know how to fix it. Keep reading for more on this...)

The Midwife is picking up on this, at least somewhat. "I don't know how to communicate with you." She says. "I don't know if you're coming or going; you have to tell me." My RCC may have noticed; we have only talked on the phone once or twice, very, very briefly. As much as that one phone call reassured me (she called me after catching on from one of my self-evals that I needed to talk) - I still can't bring myself to call her. I know that I need to be the one reaching out, and yet... I can't. It's difficult to explain.

I know that it is holding up my labor, though; after all I have gone through this far, it is stalling my progress.

This week was, again, tumultuous. The Midwife and I just are not in sync. I can't figure out what she wants from me; we are both getting frustrated. I am trying, so hard, to be there early and to try to do what she expects from me, before she asks or prompts me - but instead, I do the "wrong" thing. My self-confidence is crumbling, and my exhaustion and sense of being overwhelmed is growing by the day. As with Murphy's (or is it Murray's?) Law, the three births that we had this week were all "abnormal" - a shoulder dystocia, a cord that abruptly broke from the placenta (which subsequently required a manual removal), and a postpartum hemorrhage following an OP babe. How much of these outcomes had to do with my management (Too much traction on the cord? Did I let the placenta sit a moment too long at the introitus, letting clots build in the lower segment?), and how much was sheer dumb coincidence, is of course impossible to say. (I know the traction was, if anything, light... and the placenta was *just* at the introitus... but I also believe in the whole positive/negative vibes kind of stuff --- and I have not been riding a positive wave lately, believe me!).

So this is where we are at. As we were leaving yesterday - literally, over the course of about five minutes - the Midwife just barely started to talk to me. She asked if I had any questions, and then said she would "email me" again; then started to sigh a bit. It was good, to the point that at least we had some honest, face-to-face communication. It was not so good, of course, for the reasons above; face-to-face communication is not my strong suit. Between the exhaustion, the migraine that was kicking in, and just everything finally catching up - I started tearing up and was soon blubbering like an idiot --- very embarrassing but, on the other hand, I think a very honest reaction. It, unfortunately, made it hard to communicate any of my thoughts/concerns back to the Midwife, and ultimately made it a very one-sided (short) discussion.

Her concerns (think of them as a bit of Pitocin, if you will - hopefully, they will stimulate me to get moving and back on track): I need to keep her updated with what I'm doing, and I need to be more prompt. (I know these things... somehow, the one-hour commute has gotten worse and worse; staying somewhere during the week and only doing clinicals - and then driving home for the weekend - is starting to sound much, much better... As I described in a response email to the Midwife, my children are like sweet little eels, and they hang on me literally as I'm walking out the door most mornings.) I don't seem interested, and I just seem tired. (I don't even know where to go with this. I am exhausted, and I'm overwhelmed. This ain't gonna change, any time soon...) I'm going backwards. (Again, I feel like I'm going backwards in some areas...?!?!)

So, here we are. I've emailed her back; I need to be in touch with my RCC, but at this moment in time, I just can't bring myself to do it. The Mini-est and I are just vegging for now (I'm thinking a late lunch - delivery?), and that's how I want to keep it for a few hours anyway. I've se

nt out a couple "feelers" to try to find another clinical site for another perspective. I've also sent out a couple of resumes for CNM openings around the state - although I'm not especially hopeful about them (my being "ready" by June came up in the brief conversation the Midwife & I had as well...), it did give me something to do - and managed to shower and get myself and the Mini dressed.

I'll keep you posted. One way or the other, things do keep moving forward... I don't think there's an option of a cesarean in this situation (although, maybe being "taken out" of this site and heading to

a different one could being symbolically viewed that way.... I'm not even going to go there...) If you are the kind of person that does anything like this, I could use some kind of confidence/stress-busting/calming vibes... I know that this is the kind of thing that I make ten times worse myself, and I need to knock that crap off and get back on track.

Speaking of, I need to bring the Bears back out... http://onedeliciousdelivery.blogspot.com/2011/

01/im-scared-to-death.html

Self-doubt

Today, as I was driving home from clinicals, I cried on and off. It sucked. This is the email that I was composing in my head, trying to sound appreciative, and not needy but ---- what's the word?? (Not desperate, but close...)

"thanks for your patience this week (and in general), this week in particular just was not impressive and i'm not sure why. the areas that i'm not 'getting' are frustrating to me - as an OB nurse not to mention as a SNM - and it is getting to that point that i feel like i'm losing ground. i know i need more confidence and to be more assertive, etc - but am not sure how to get there from here, if that makes sense. not being able to palpate fetal body parts/find FHT's, determine what a cervical exam is/isn't, how to tell if the anterior shoulder has delivered or not (is that just feel or is there another obvious sign -- does the anterior shoulder become slightly visible before you switch to the posterior?), etc.

i know that these are women and families that you have been working with for a long time and i appreciate that you are giving me the opportunity to learn with them; i also recognize that your reputation and license are ultimately on the line as well and i am grateful to you for that reason and for the advice/criticism/info that you share, because i need whatever i can get to keep going forward.

also, just as an FYI - i know we talked a little about it when A was here - i have been trying to work out another site to get another perspective for at least part of my remaining hours... if/when that happens, i will let you know (i don't know if it would be just for a month or so, or longer/shorter term, etc... do you have an opinion on that?)

thanks again, have a great weekend... ~m"

(Maybe I'll jump in here and say that all of this may be exaggerated by the fact that (a) I'm probably a bit hormonal... I think AF is going to rear her lovely head *any* day now... and/or (b) I've been outta my little happy pills for days and days - so hopefully for us all, the Warm One has picked some up for me and life can cheer up soon...)

Anyway. Back to the post.

And I've been tearing up randomly ever since getting home. I've blogged before about self-doubt and having low self-confidence, I think. I don't think this is a great thing, but may not be that uncommon, either, for a student going into this sort of field... in fact, part of me thinks that being less-than-100% confident may be a good thing. (Isn't some bit of humility, some sort of willingness to admit that one might not know everything, probably good for everyone?) Anyway, I keep getting off-track here.

Earlier this week, I had a rough night with The Midwife. (My own fault) We had an induction, and another labor patient had come in as well; at around 12:30 a.m. the Midwife called me to let me know that the induction was going to be AROM'ed due to some concerns with the baby's heart rate (rather than "slept" and induced in the morning, as was the original plan...). I unfortunately was out like a light when the Midwife called and talked a lot of mumbo-jumbo, making little to no sense about needing a floor to sleep in if I came in and some sort of lighthouse or something --- totally looneyness, until my brain caught up with my mouth. Eventually, I made it in --- I live about an hour from the hospital --- checked in on both moms and caught up on their labors, and then laid down. Suddenly, it was four hours later when the nurses called to let me know that Mom A was about to deliver. Fast forward a bit, Mom A delivers, all ends up well, blah blah blah.... but it just wasn't my best delivery. At all. Mom A froze during pushing, head delivered, and I froze as well; baby was of course delivered and did wonderfully, but Mom A did get a tear and needed stitches, and the question comes up as to how much of her tear might have been avoided. Mom B delivers later, all is well... yadda yadda...

But, the crux of that night/morning was the Midwife's comment (at the nurse's station) that I need "a lot" of work in L&D. That stung... "a lot". Like many things, of course, that sting, it was important and necessary to hear. I do need a lot of work in L&D.

Of course, now, as the week has progressed, those words have been eating at me more and more. I've been walking on eggshells, slightly anxious about doing or saying the wrong thing... and a teensy bit scared to death about going back to L&D with the Midwife. (The irony is that what I was afraid of happened at work - away from clinicals - and went perfectly, without a hitch, in the meantime...) Not so, though, at clinicals... Our next go-round with L&D was tense again; my cervical checks seemed to be off (I don't get how I'm feeling a rim of cervix all around, and the Midwife can only feel an anterior lip when she checks right after me... I swear I have been checking cervices for years. I can, I can!) The delivery - same thing. Head delivers - mom tenses, fights pushing; I have a hard time "catching" when the anterior shoulder delivers... has it? Hasn't it? Time to go for the posterior shoulder now, or keep with the down and out pressure? I can tell the Midwife is not happy with my indecision (easily) but I JUST DON'T KNOW.

Again, baby delivers, all is well in the end... but the vibe, again, is not so hot. I want to talk with the Midwife before leaving, but it's 5 p.m., Friday, my babysitters at home wanted to leave by 5 (and I still have an hour drive...), and the Midwife is at the desk yet. I change, stop to say something on my way out, and she mentions that she will email me with "a few things"...

Can my preceptor dump me via email?!