Processing the Births

I was overwhelmed and dazed after catching the first baby a couple of weeks ago. I felt the magnitude of what was happening, and I couldn’t believe that it was finally my hands that I was looking at, catching a baby. It was amazing to watch someone’s eyes open for the first time, take their first breath. But do you all remember this post?

It didn’t feel like that…I didn’t feel like that, after it was over. Not to say that everyday should evoke some greater sense of purpose and make me feel like I’m changing the world, but I surely expected to feel similar to that day after catching my first baby. I was happy. I was very happy. But it was definitely not the same. The principle, tell the truth, present the options, and listen, were the same, but I didn't feel like "I can do this, all day, every day, I can do this." So far, I can only imagine it for a finite time...a short finite time.

I went to visit the mama a couple hours later…it seemed odd that all in the span of three hours I had met her, caught her baby, and sent her away to postpartum on another floor...I needed to see her again. It is possible to build connection in that time, but I would guess…actually, I am hoping… that it is no where near the connection you’d build if you had continuity of care with a woman. It was wonderful to see her afterwards because she was so excited that she had done it “all by herself” and she couldn’t believe that she “did it without nothing.” Over and over again, she said, “and I did it by myself.” It also helped me to get some glimpse of how she was processing her birth, because there’s a good chance that I won’t see her again in a clinical setting, although I might see her working at some time. How do midwives who do intrapartum call shifts without providing the prenatal care or post partum care deal with this lack of, or very short, connection? With having no clue what she and the baby are going home to…if there’s food in the house…if there’s heat? I guess what I’m saying is birth is not enough for me…it is not the epitome of this education, although at times it seems like it is supposed to be. There’s a lot of birth counting going on in my program…I hate that. Last week our teacher went around the classroom and asked each person to tell her how many babies she had caught, along with other opportunities such as admission procedures, c-section assists, rounds, etc. I asked if we would have to do this in this way every week? I think it’s building some kind of competition that I don’t want to participate in…everyone is obsessed with the numbers. I was glad when she said that that would be the only time we would do it. People are excited, I get it, I’m excited, too! But I hate that “how many births do you have now? How bout now? Now? I don’t know what the hell is up. I’m just not processing the experience in the same way maybe, and that’s fine, I don’t have to. But how am I processing it? I think I’m going to need to be the kind of midwife who knows the mama of the baby I’m catching.

The second baby I caught was, again, wonderful, but even less connection than the first. We shared the same first name. I literally met her once, then caught her baby in a very hastened manner because even though she was a primip, she went from 3cm to fully dilated and pushing very quickly (in fact, had not had a vaginal exam in that time – which is rare in the hospital) and did not feel an ounce of pain (her words) until late in transition when she said she had to poop and started vomiting….which is usually the sign for “baby’s coming” but not always, but in her case she was pretty close to crowning. We didn’t even have the birth cart yet. We managed to get it, get gowned and gloved, she pushed a few times and baby was here. We somersaulted the baby, which was a great learning experience because it’s not very common. Again, an hour later she was gone.

There is a young girl that I have as a prenatal patient who I do whatever I have to see myself. The first visit she barely spoke to me. Two visits later we were cool…my code switching in full effect, and all PC professionalism dropped. Her, flowing with the truth. I am worried about her. For three weeks she’s been contributing to her “cab fund” as we discussed since she has no car, and had no idea how she would get to the hospital if she couldn’t reach her aunt. But what about when she gets to the hospital? Her planned labor support is a little shaky. I’m imagining her there, alone, trying to have a baby. Yes, there are nurses, but nurses are not doulas, and they have more than one patient…but we are lucky with the nurses we have because they are supportive of midwives and decreased interventions (ie: they don’t mind doing intermittent auscultation even though it’s more work for them). But my point is, I can’t tell her that I will be there for her, and that sucks. Chances are I will catch the baby of another woman I've never met, while someone she's never met will do the same for her. It's frustrating.

The other reason I’m writing all this is because, unlike my classmates, I am hardly ever excited about call…I could take it or leave it. Half of my class signed up to take extra call over spring break in a couple weeks…I thought, you must be kidding? They seem so enchanted…so in love with this experience…they can’t get enough. Maybe I’m jealous. My big sib said, “It’s so much different, so much better when you know who you’re getting up in the middle of the night for.” My last shift was from 7pm to 7am. All I wanted to do was go home and go to bed.

I’ve caught two babies. Safely. I understand how huge that is. I am thankful. I am thankful to have been trusted by those two women. I get that. As I think about bringing my own into the world, I imagine that it will take me a very long time to find someone who I can trust to catch my babies, so, even though they had very little choice in the matter, I appreciate being allowed to be present.

I guess it will just take me a while to process...