essentialmidwifery

Birthy Thoughts by Jane E. Drichta and Jodilyn Owen

The Quintessential Togetherness. January 31, 2012

Well Harumph….

I’ve been thinking about the recent publicity regarding the rise in homebirth rates.  You’ll hear Jane and I repeating our mantra in our sleep, “relationship, relationship, relationship…it’s all about the relationship mothers have with their provider.”  Can the provider be trusted to provide continuity of care and individualized attention?  Can the provider be trusted to guard the space and values of each family they work with? Can the provider do their work without needing the spotlight,  a.k.a. can they in fact “catch” and not “deliver” ? Can they do it all while preserving the relationship most fundamental to humanity? Can they offer support, resources, and guidance without actually providing precise google-map type directions for how things will be, how long it will take to get there, and what roads parents will or will not take?  A midwife is constantly thinking “re-routing!” as she adjusts her services to meet the needs and wishes of her clients.  My grandfather used to point out (via drawings on napkins in restaurants) that the fastest way between two points is a straight line, but it’s not necessarily the right path to take.

Ok. Spoiler Alert:  I whole heartedly believe that the safest place for a woman to birth is where she feels safest.  Home.  Birth Center.  Hospital.   Riding a float in the Macy’s Day Parade.  What I’m about to say really isn’t about that, it’s about what I’ve seen and what I believe about why women are choosing homebirth.

The word “quintessential” is a pretty common  adjective.  It’s used to demonstrate the most likely or perfect example of something.  I was staring at the ceiling today, trying to take a wee break from studying (and by wee break, I mean a small interlude, not a bathroom run).  I was missing my friends and the strangers in Vanuatu who would never have let me sit at that table alone while staring at the ceiling.  I miss the togetherness of that culture. Which got me thinking about how we create close relationships.

I started to reflect on the births I have attended here in the greater Seattle area (because of course when I wonder about anything I have to wonder first if birth affects that thing and how exactly it accomplishes it).  The hundreds of them.  I see little flashes.  Early on, those first births as a hired and paid doula, where I was supposed to be smart about this stuff and know just what to do.  Running out to the waiting room to call a more experienced doula for ideas.  Learning to let the text book information sink to the back of my head and actually respond to the mother.  The way a woman’s face changed as she was pushing, and how time stood still and all I could see was the force of birthing.  More flashes of firsts:  The first time a nurse gave me (me!) the code to the nutrition room (oohlala) so I could retrieve some ice water (the sacred nectar of hospital birth).  The first time someone’s water broke on me (followed by two more times that same week).  The first time a mother I was working with went to the OR.  The first time I smelled thick meconium mixed with that metallic odor of too much blood which portends a massive hemorrhage which was also the first time I saw a mother and a baby in steep decline in the same moment.  The first time someone told me that they had attended a birth that seemed a lot like rape (I was notably judgmental about this statement and couldn’t believe that this woman was sooooo dramatic).  The first time I attended a birth that felt like watching someone be raped (after I finished throwing up I called the other doula to apologize and she lovingly let me vent).

The first time I went to a homebirth.  The first hospital birth after a run of eight homebirths.  The sheer terror I felt at the silence of that birth, at the language at that birth, so markedly different than the midwives I had just been over-exposed to.  Of the total lack of raw power and connection between the mother and baby during that labor.  The weird, unrelated chatting.  The way the staff spoke with the mother as if she was totally inept about absolutely everything.  The way they forced the baby to nurse without actually noticing what state of being the baby was in.  Don’t mind me, brand new person who never felt, heard, or saw anything in this world before, while I overstimulate you with all this rubbing, thumping, sucking, talking, and stuffing of your mother’s breast into your mouth while pressing on your head with a force most adults would not appreciate….

It’s clear they are doing their j-o-b’s as they were instructed to, but there was no consideration for the variables of humanity of the mother or the baby.  What about just watching as the mother explores her newborn in her own time, in her own way?  What about allowing them to teach each other about the comfort, security, and nourishment that mom has to offer and those incredible newborn gazes which suck us in and make us fall in love if the baby is in the right state and the experience is organic?

I have been to some stunningly beautiful hospital births.  But here’s the truth:  It’s not the same.  Even drug free and naked and vociferous, it is not the same.  And the reason why, I realized, as I stared up at that ceiling in anygivenseattlecoffeeshop, is the quintessential togetherness that pregnancy and birth so dramatically and eloquently demonstrate when left to their own devices.  Midwives know there is a mother and a baby.  We actually call them motherbaby.  They are a dyad.  Inextricable from one another.   The baby needs the mother for food and oxygen supply and comfort and love.  The mother needs the baby to help her come into her mother-self.  To see the power in her body and potential of life and the bulkiness of what it means to really really love.  To lose sight of the small stuff; the control, the management, the ability to shave her legs all by herself.

The language of a hospital birth separates mother from baby.  Blames the condition of the mother in any given moment on the baby.  Questions the mother’s ability to continue to provide nourishment and oxygen for her baby on this single day when she has been doing it to perfection for the previous 260-280 days of her life (unmonitored, without permission, without apology, without doubt). The baby is seen as an imminent threat, the mother as an unfit and incapable hostess.  The examples are too numerous to cite, just ask a doula for one or two and she’ll go pale and give you ten or twenty.

Motherbaby: Quintessential Togetherness.  Bound by blood and water, time and love.  She brings him life and security, he brings her motherhood—that gracious, spacious, place beyond measure where women are bolted to the basic cellular formula for the entire universe.  We don’t do it alone, we don’t do it separate from our babies in even one single way.  We do it together in concert with them in every single way.

I am a midwife now who sometimes attends births as a doula.  It’s a lot easier as a midwife.  The technical responsibilities are greater.  But I never have to listen to a provider try to crack apart a mother’s relationship with her baby.  I don’t have to think about what to say to try to help that mother find healing and strength and connectedness.   Everything I do is about promoting that relationship and sense of what is right for the two of them, at the same time, together.   Everything I do is about letting the mother’s sense of self and baby dictate what comes next.  My terms are not that she will follow my protocols or accept my rules.  My terms are that she seeks to understand what she does not, that she asks all of the questions that cross her mind, that she speaks her heart and shares her thoughts, hopes, fears, and desires.  My terms are that the two of them work through birthing together using all of the resources they want to.  Did you know that a mother and newborn know each other by smell within hours of life? They can pick each other out of a lineup with just their noses.  That is so incredibly intimate.  Who would ever mess with a system that provides for that level of connection?

It’s no wonder there’s been a 30% increase in homebirths of late… faced with the opportunity to spend the prenatal clinic hours with a provider who wants to promote and support that togetherness, faced with the opportunity to stay as together as they’ve been for the entire pregnancy during birthing, faced with the options that matter so deeply.  The decision isn’t the quick or the easy one, but it is clear why, for so many women, it is the right one.

 

Hemi One Midwife from America–Jodilyn July 5, 2011

Filed under: Jodilyn,Vanuatu — EssentialMidwifery @ 9:18 am
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Today started early, up at 5:30 to get to the pool before work.  When I arrived there were two inductions underway.  I continued with part two of yesterday’s project in which they turned the big cabinet in the midwive’s lounge over to my organizational savvy.  It was a veritable field of gold—I found a lot of donated supplies hidden away.  There is a fear here about using these things, that someone will borrow them.  But leaving 6 new stethoscopes in their boxes in the cupboard for two years is not a much more effective use for them.   I refreshed the equipment and supplies in the delivery and exam rooms, filled a cabinet with donated baby clothes in the room where we bathe and examine the babies, and ran a bunch of toys and larger clothes down the pediatric wing where they were promptly given away for use.  I stacked up all of the pictures that have been taken of visiting midwives and students that were sent here as gifts and made them easier to browse through.  I compiled all of the stats books by order of which kind of stats are gathered within and gave a book on how to perform vasectomies to a urologist doctor who asked me why we didn’t want it.  I stared at him for a moment and then he burst into laughter…

I actually want to take a break in the orderliness I was imposing to talk about laughing here.  The laughter here stretches across the street and down entire blocks.  I know some of my neighbors by their laughs—long cackles and high pitched “hooeeeyys”, the stuttered giggles of small children and those huge open-mouthed-head-thrown-back deep laughs some of the men have. Laughter here is unmodulated, joy thrown forth from bodies that are aligned in ways that would make ballerinas in America green with envy.  The chest is thrown forward in a physical sharing of happiness.  It is not tempered or adjusted or toned-down in fear of being seen as flaunting or whatever it is that keeps us Americans from going the distance when it comes to joy.  There is clapping and hopping and quite often, shoulder shimmies.  Teenagers tend towards knee slapping and grandmothers do the same.  There is a culture of acceptance when it comes to joy.  No one tries to take it away or diminish it.  No one accuses the joyful party of being too joyful.  Here, joy is shared and bold and independent.

Which is how I got to talking about laughter…this doctor, so enjoying his joke.  I laughed and laughed with him until we were all laughed out.  I finished the distribution of supplies and complete organization of the cupboard and went to observe the med students doing their newborn exams.  They seem to have been taught by the resident here who does not seem to know why he is doing what he is doing and has thusly modified some of the elements of the exam and now they don’t make any sense.  I observed and helped answer their questions and then talked about some of the items.  Tomorrow we are going to go through a complete exam together so they can see an American Style exam, where I will talk through each item–what we are looking for and what the absence or over abundance of can mean.

I spent a few hours doing assessments on babies and scoring them, part of my certification requirements for the second certificate I am getting through the Brazelton Institute.  It is so stunning to do this assessment and talk through it with the parents and watch their eyes light up as they see the unique behaviors of their babies.  It feels in many ways like I am providing a deeper introduction to their child and that I get to be a witness to the discovering of baby as a unique and individual person that these mothers make.  One of the grandmothers wanted to sit in on the assessment with the mom—this was the grandmother of the new mother and she was elderly and half blind and mostly toothless and had one of those dispositions that makes me want to sit next to her all day long.  She exudes grandmotherliness.  I’m pretty sure that is not a word but you will all know what I mean.  As I worked through each item on the assessment the grandmother got so excited and starting say “whoop!whoop!” and slapping her knees every time the baby responded to me or I elicited a reflex from him.  The baby, as they tend to do with this assessment, became more and more engaged and interested the further we proceeded.  He stared at me constantly waiting to see what was next and performed like a champ for his great grandmother.  It feels magical in the moment, to see how capable and what depth there is to their personalities, even when they are only hours old.  The grandmother dissolved into fits of joy.  She was thrilled with his clear miracle-like abilities and proceeded to walk around the ward and tell all of the other grandmothers what her baby was doing.  Oh, the baby’s name?  Owen  : )

I spent the day doing these assessments between births and got a good number in.  There was another set of sticky shoulders on a beautiful tall baby girl, 4th girl to a mom who wanted a boy but promptly fell in love with this little one.  The local midwife had called me in to catch this baby and the mother had an absolute panic attack.  She was terrified of me.  I asked the local midwife to do it as I have no desire to be terrifying to a mother with a baby on the way out.  The midwife told her, “you no be fright, hemi one midwife from America” (don’t be afraid, she is an American midwife) and then she started to leave.  I said, “wait!  come back here, she is afraid and that is not good for her or baby”.  I talked gently to the mother and the other midwife stayed, and it was all good.  I took care of her and baby during her postpartum hours and I definitely grew on her as she got to know me better.  As for continuity of care from the start, there just wasn’t time.  She walked in pushing—something the women from her island are known to do.  They have super fast labors, don’t tend to need any suturing and get up and walk about shortly after the birth like nothing ever happened.  Now I know to try to get these women when they come in!!

I walked flip-flop time down Chicken Road on my way home.   I played my way through two dozen kids, giving high fives and watching different displays of childhood.  Like little peacocks they are eager to show me what they have done with their day and their creations and inventions are a pleasure to behold.  I did remove a sharp metal edge off of a little plastic pipe some of the boys were using as a trumpet, but other than that, it was all good.

 

Twins, Breech, A Baby who is Here to Stay–Jodilyn June 25, 2011

After six days of 8-12 hour shifts I happily collapsed Friday night, falling asleep to a light but steady rain.  Squalls woke me up and kept me up most of the night and I finally gave up and decided to walk up to the hospital to say goodbye to several mothers and babies who were checking out today.

The family who named their baby after me told me they will be having a party in a couple of weeks and will send someone to collect me for it : )

The next bed down was a first time mother who had no one with her for her labor or delivery except for me as her aunty and her husband were at work and she hadn’t thought to call them until she was already pushing.  I gave her lots and lots of good back rubs and managed to hold her hand right until the baby was born and then she held my arm while I caught her baby, who I somersaulted gently out of the cord that was around her neck and straight up to her mother’s chest.  Next in the row was a first time mother who was so tiny I had asked for a second pair of hands from the midwives who were eating lunch and watching French soap operas.  She had the body of a 10 year old and I just didn’t have a lot of confidence about the whole thing…of course she proved me wrong and delivered a 2700 kg baby over an intact perineum.  She was 20 years old and was clearly madly in love with her little baby when I saw her this morning.  Her young girlfriend had been with her and was cowering in a corner when mom started to push so I encouraged her to come and hold her friends hand and sit by her.  She had never been to a birth before, something I figured out when she nearly fainted as the baby was born.  She caught herself and rested her head on the pillow next to the new mother’s.  As soon as baby was settled on mom’s chest and I was sure the mother wasn’t going to do any excessive bleeding I went around the bed and kicked a chair under the friend.  She looked up at me and said “OH WOW” and then laughed and laughed.  The Tutu (grandmother) came in and started clapping and kissing her granddaughter who had just delivered and then kissing and hugging me in a great show of affection.  It is hard to argue with an octogenarian who wants to shower you with love, even while waiting for a placenta to deliver!

Next in row in the postpartum area was a second time mother who was up and looking like a beauty queen—as if she hadn’t ever given birth.  Aha!  So they have those mothers here as well!  Across from her were our most recently delivered twins.  The mother came in having had no prenatal care and in active labor.  The head midwife wanted the doctor I’ve been working a lot with to be primary on this delivery.  The other American midwife and I talked over what to expect with her extensively as the mother labored.  Since we had no idea about these babies and how they were situated inside—one sac or two, one placenta or two, we planned on taking preventive measures and doing the best we could.  It was clear that twin b was sitting breech so as we waited on the birth we reviewed the mechanics of breech birth with this doc who had never seen a breech birth before.  It was a great collaborative spirit and the other American midwife and I were happy that the doc was asking for instruction.  As the first baby came she asked if she should cut an episiotomy to which we both cried “no!”…so she waited.  She kept asking if we were sure about that but before she could finish the sentence twice the whole head was born.  Then she went to reach in and pull the baby out and we both cried “no!”  I told her, “the baby will come to you.  Just keep your hands there and let it come to you”  the other midwife was speaking in the calm soothing tones to the doctor I had seen her use with mothers so many times now and I smiled at what we were doing there…retraining her, talking about the baby’s ability to restitute on its own.  Sure enough the baby turned to one side and one shoulder slipped free, then the next, and the body quickly followed.  We clamped and cut the cord pretty quickly since we did not know if the twins had any of their vessels crossed so we wanted to keep the blood supply even between them.  The doc looked up at us, “boy you ladies are patient!!”  We provided some guidance for twin B and felt from the outside as it settled into a nice breech deep in the pelvis and after several minutes the mother felt like pushing again.  10 toes appeared first and they were so darn cute as they wiggled their way into the world.  We lifted mom way to the edge of the bed so that the baby would just hang on its own with no disturbance from any of us or a table which might block its way out.  I had repeated several times to the doctor the mantra “hands off the breech” and as the feet were fully born she went in to support them and we both said “no!  hands off the breech”.  I said “Dr. X, I know this is the hardest thing to do but you cannot touch that baby!”  The other midwife showed her the sweeping motion she could do once the head was born to bring the baby to mom.  Dr. X did a little dance to keep from touching the baby which I have subsequently showcased for her over and over again : )  Breech baby twin B arrived without drama after a proper hang and maneuvers,  all self-directed.  Dr X was quite thrilled with the whole event and I let her in on the little secret that most of what midwives do is wait and paperwork.

So I said goodbye to those moms as they were on their way out today and it was nice to be in there just in my “civies” which is what they call clothing that is not scrubs and to sit and relax with the moms.

One other case this week that I don’t think I wrote about was a couple who were in having their second child.  Their first had died on day two due to some very tragic circumstances and they were extremely traumatized.  They were terrified their baby that was just born this week was not doing well and he would die too.  I spent about an hour with them doing a whole newborn exam and assessment.  The father was so upset because the mother was refusing to sleep and the baby was already 20 hours old so she was into day two + of not sleeping.  He spoke great English which was wonderful as I could really talk him through everything.  I reassured him it was normal for mothers not to sleep and to be primally obsessed with their newborns under these circumstances and that it would take baby proving his intent to stay on day 3, 4, 5, and so on for her to start to buy-in to releasing the fear she has now.   The baby looked like a normal 1 day old but was very smooth in some ways that I didn’t love, although nothing tangible enough to really complain about.  I told her since she was awake she should provide kangaroo care for the baby since that will give him the best shot at regulating his heart and respiratory rates and give her the feeling that she is getting to know him and get a sense of who he is.  She loved this idea and immediately put the baby skin-to-skin under her lava-lava (sarong).  I modeled for them talking to the baby and I asked them to express their fears and then I retold them to the baby and asked him to understand how loved and wanted he is and to know that the fear they have is not because they believe he will not stay but because this is all they have known.  There is something really amazing about telling their stories to babies, as they tend to perk up and listen.  He did this and I encouraged her to talk and sing to him that night plenty.  I told them I would be back first thing in the morning to check on them all.  I spoke that night with the other American midwife about this baby and she agreed there was something not quite great about him. Even though we know that babies on day one will sleep the bulk of the hours of the day, it was hard not share the fear with the parents, and I’m not sure if that wasn’t what was causing us to see him in this way.   I skipped swimming in the morning to get there early and went straight to them.  He was nursing vigorously and showing off great muscle tone.  I asked her if I could bring the medical students by and share her story with them and talk to them about the assessment I was going to do again.  She agreed.  As I did the exam he was clearly totally present and accounted for and although he started out fussy (which frankly I was happy to see!), he slowly got interested in what we were doing and he landed in that wonderful state where he was primed to learn and play.  He showed off by tracking further than the average baby does and regulating his states beautifully.  The mother finally smiled as she watched the incredible language of her newborn and when I was done I passed him to her but he had seen her from the middle of the bed and was all-eyes for her, and she was taken in by him entirely.  It was incredible to see him win her confidence over and although she was exhausted she looked fresh and eager to be with him as we left them alone to discover each other.

 

Continuity of Care–Jodilyn June 22, 2011

Being cared for by a provider who a woman gets to know and develop a trusting relationship with matters.  Having that same provider care for that woman throughout her labor and birth matters.  I had started to wonder if these truths, which seemed so fundamentally true in my little world, were true at all in the great big world I have come to.  I have seen over the past two weeks women laboring alone in the hallway as providers buzz past them without a kind word, or any word at all for that matter.  I have seen only two husbands present for the laboring and birthing.  I have seen soon-to-be-grandmothers doing the hard work of massaging, nourishing, encouraging a mama—their daughters–in labor.  I have seen everyone a mother knows scramble out of the room just after the birth as they have been taught that this is what they should do.  I have seen babies parked in corners in bassinets.  I have seen women wanting to stay upright or on their sides while providers bark at them to lay down flat and open their legs.  I have seen mothers whose bodies were instructing them to perfection in the slow art of pushing out a baby told to push for sustained periods of time and I have watched them lose their breath trying to do so.  I have seen providers trained without the understanding that after a baby’s head is born, the body will restitute to one side for the birth of the shoulders and body, reach inside and pull babies from their not-quite finished process.  I have seen mothers whose eyes go flat as the providers are giving a series of cold harsh commands that deny the truth of what the woman and baby in front of them are doing in that moment.  I have wondered:  why do these loving connected people turn into the essence of 1950’s medical model when it comes to birth?  How do these women accept what is done?  Do they gather and tell their stories to each other or is this just parked away as one of the many things women here experience as part of their lives?  Am I projecting all of this onto the women and it does not bother them at all?

Today I went in early and stayed late.  I learned so much today about so many aspects of birth and this culture and the women here.  Last week I did a day of prenatal clinic as you’ll recall if you’ve been reading.  It was very insightful and helped me understand the charting and what kind of care is received before we see them during labor down on the maternity ward.  That day I was shown how one visit typically goes and then thrown into a room by myself.  One of the women came in and stopped me in my struggle with Bislama by telling me she speaks English.  We had quite a long visit with her as she had some things going on and it took a while for me to find out what kind of tests (if any) I could order for her as well as for me to interpret the previous results from another test she had done (we measure differently to start with but I could not read the doctor’s writing at all—another thing that seems to be the same in any language!  And for the LD fans out there, I thought right away to go to a pharmacist to have it interpreted but the pharmacy is three buildings away!)  She is a very tall woman by American standards, but here, where I am tall, she is several heads above most of the people here.  She is a calm, centered, and strong woman.  Long and short of it, I just really enjoyed her and hoped very much I would be on duty for her birth.  When I came in this morning she was there, in very early labor with her fourth child.  She was unhappy with what she felt was prodromal labor (a long early labor that didn’t seem to be picking up in intensity).  She asked me what I thought about her going outside for some exercise and I agreed that sounded like a good idea.  I showed her the stomping I had been taught by some Kenyan woman many years ago and she headed out the door to “go find a hill to stomp down”.  She came in a bit later looking more active and indeed when she was checked she had made quite a lot of progress.  I understand her frustration as all around her women here have their babies after only a few short but intense hours of labor (we had one deliver in the car on the way to the hospital today btw) and woman after woman came through delivering while she walked the corridor with her mom.  I checked in on her often and between other deliveries gave her mom a break and rubbed her back.  I did manage something fun today with a dad who had missed the birth of his first baby and was adamant that he would not miss this one.  He was so involved and loving with his wife.  I had him discover the sex of the baby by picking up the legs and making eyes at him to look—he sang out as he announced “one smol boy!!” and then I had him cut the cord.  Something very few men here have done.  He loved it.  It was a very celebratory moment and he kept checking on me the rest of the day and smiling proudly.

There are a handful of Australian medical students here and they are full of questions and eager to learn so I spent a lot of the day talking to them about what we do and why, and what they will see here and why not to do it.  One student attached himself to me and he was blown away by simple things like comfort measures and acupressure points.  He took his learning quite seriously and it was something else to see this 6’3 Australian doctor rubbing a mother’s back and asking if he was getting it right.   There is the most amazing midwife here from New Zealand—she is here on a two year contract and is a wonderful teacher and mentor for the staff here, and for myself and the other volunteer midwives.  I have learned from her to stake my claim to a birthing woman and I have learned that I would rather be alone, knowing I can call out for help at any time if I need it, and manage the birth the way I want to then to have some of the local midwives come in and start barking at the mothers.  We can be having a gentle lovely birthing with an actively engaged mother and it can all get shut down in a second when the local midwives come in and tell the women to lay flat and stop talking and push until they are purple in the face.  I have learned to speak up for what I want here in all new ways as I talk over them, coaxing the mother back to what is hers:  her birthing.

Late in the afternoon around 2:30 this mother got into active busy labor.  I stayed with her, as did the Australian doc.  We massaged her and gave her water and told her how wonderful she was.  She labored silently, smiling or grimacing when a contraction hit and then resting in between them.  She sat upright on the bed for a while, then asked if it was ok if she took a walk-about (which means, as it suggests, that she wanted to be able to walk around).  I encouraged her to do so, to follow her body and was so happy as the local providers all got busy elsewhere and left us alone.  Her mother stayed with her and she had a lot of attention from the three of us.  She became very hot and I used one of the gauze cuttings as a washcloth, wetting it with cold water and wiping her down.  She made such happy moans and told me it felt sooo good.  Around 3:30 she told us her other birth stories.  We listened to her.  We asked her questions.  She said this number 4 baby was acting like her number 2 baby—taking a long long time to come.  Around 3:50 she told me her husband is a sea-man, out on a ship due back tonight at 8pm.  I said, “oh, now I see what is happening here—do you miss him?”  She looked at me and smiled.  Her contractions picked up and became very long.  The Aussie doc had to leave and the other American midwife came on duty and offered to assist which I was so happy for.  At 4:02 mom leaned back and arched her back and her waters burst forth like those from a damn, suddenly shattered.  I felt the wetness seep into my scrubs and saw how far it reached across the room.  I love that power—it shows us how strong those membranes are and how strong the contractions are!  A local midwife wandered in and sure enough started barking at her.  I spoke right over her and said the mother’s name.  She looked up at me and I told her, “gently, gently, you keep doing what you are doing, you are perfect.  Do not be afraid and do not rush, we are right here and your baby is fine.”  The other American midwife spoke in such soothing low tones to her, talking slowly and never relenting until the other midwife stopped talking and just stood back and listened and watched.  Slowly, slowly the baby crowned showing us a bit more of herself each minute.  At 4:08 the baby was born with hardly a cry and I put her right on mom’s chest, skin to skin.  The mother said, “she is happy here on my belly, she is not crying.”  Smart mama.  After we had her all cleaned up and resting and nursing her baby she told me she felt  so fortunate to have come when I was there, to have had this birth where no one was commanding her to do this or that, to feel she could come up onto her elbows to birth the baby instead of laying flat.  I finally got to ask my questions to a woman who could answer them fully and we talked about the treatment here and the perception of the treatment in great detail.

I told her that we believe babies are conceived in love and should come into this world surrounded by love to which she and her mother fully agreed.  The midwife from New Zealand told her she needs to go and tell her women friends that this is what it should be like and this is what they should demand…to be respected and encouraged and trusted, that change comes best from the consumers.  We talked about our families and she told me she had been a basketball player.  I told her about Julia and that she loves basketball so much that in all of her school pictures she has her basketball with her.  She replied a simple, “of course they do.  A girl who loves basketball is all about basketball.”  Fabulous.  And in a delightful surprise I now have a very tall 4200 kilogram (9.3 lbs) baby named after me : )  .  Tomorrow I am bringing in my camera as I must have a picture with this family!

Today I learned that it is not just about one birth or one mother and me doing the best I can for that woman and that baby.  It is all about one birth and one mother and me doing the best I can for that woman and that baby.  We don’t know when we are interacting with someone where that interaction will take them.  And we certainly don’t know where it will take us.  Her birth has taken me places.  It was transformative for my understanding of who I can be, here and at home.

I have seen many wonderful things from the midwives here.  I have seen them stop a postpartum hemorrhage with finesse.  I have seen them mop and scrub and set up a bed for a mother with great concern for the details of cleanliness and infection prevention.  I have seen them wrestling with what care plan to lay out for a complicated case.  I have seen lights turn on in their minds when a new plan was introduced to try to understand why the babies who die here are dying.  I have seen them attend to families as if they were their own.  They have so much they do so well and I know they have the capacity for the rest.  They were trained in this very specific way and I think with the work that this New Zealand midwife is doing they will continue to improve and grow as providers.

On a side note, the Aussie med students came in today with loads of boxes full of brand new and used hospital equipment, including a new pump for the Nursery/NICU, resuscitation equipment and so much more.  It was very thrilling.  For anyone planning on coming here, if you take Air Pacific you can bring as many bags as you’d like if they are under 50lbs.  Please let me know if you are coming and I will email you a list of much needed supplies.  It is worth the lug to get them here!

 

Today I… –Jodilyn June 19, 2011

Filed under: Jodilyn,Vanuatu — EssentialMidwifery @ 7:37 am
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Today I…

  • caught a million babies.  (ok, maybe not that many but all four beds in one room were full the whole shift)
  • got pis pis’d on–the women today decided to empty their bladders just before pushing,  while laying supine, so it actually squirts up in an arc.  Surprise to me!  And a Quick Learning Curve—I only got tagged once.
  • I had a MAJOR postpartum hemorrhage from one first time mom.  And I managed it.  I had to order people around as I don’t have six hands but i did that effectively.  It really sucks when there is a river of blood pouring out of a woman.
  • I got pooped on by two babies who decided to show me just what they thought of the way their days went down.  I would probably crap on someone if I had to do what they did too…at least they are cute.
  • I calmly replaced the needles on two shots a nurse was prepping to give a newborn to baby size instead of man size needles. (yikes)  And then I explained to the babies my plan and gave them their shots (every baby gets hep B and vit k here)
  • I gave first baths to several babies who were all alert and interested in me.  I sang them silly songs.
  • I taught a young aunt how to bathe her niece and dress her.   I just pretend I know what I’m doing when it comes to these nappies—they are not like our diapers at home.  So now the aunt will always put them on wrong until one day, one of her family members points it out to her and she realizes what a ignoramus I really am when it come to under garments for newborns : )
  • I helped a nervous new dad to sit down while his wife was asleep and I put the baby in his arms and it was magical
  • I almost passed out (somewhere in the middle of the babies and heat I realized the weekend people don’t use the AC in the delivery rooms OR the fans…and I had been so busy I hadn’t had time to drink.  I had the mute nurse (who is so sweet) stand where I was standing and pretend to be me while I went into the midwive’s “lounge” and lay down and drank 40 oz of water straight.  It really, really helped.  Then I got up and got back to it.  I made a comment about it being hot and one of the other midwives said “it’s hot sistah, you said it!” and I looked around and everyone was drenched in sweat running down their bodies.  I made eyes at the AC and one of them flipped the on switch.  Too little too late, 4 women, their moms or sisters or both, 2 midwives, 2 nursing students, one doctor…too much heat for one rickety old window AC.  At least I had 40 more oz to sweat out.
  • After my shift I went to visit the kids down the hill and I made wheelchair races for siblings in the childrens ortho ward.  There are no Rules here for kids.  It is a dream come true.  They get to play and keep score and fight it out if there is a disagreement.  It is like Childhood Unleashed and it is such a relief!  Kids learning to think and problem solve without adults telling them every little step they should take.  It’s Fabu!   Anyway, we went outside where there are long sort of empty pathways with hills and raced around in a giant rectangle.  I ran behind them urging them ever faster.  One of the boys had a little sister jump on his lap who was about my nieces size and she held on for dear life as he plummeted down the hill.  I should mention that the wheelchairs are old wooden things that don’t resemble what we know about wheel chairs at all.  It was FUN!  The old people laughed and clapped for the kids.  I visited my little friend whose mom was sleeping yesterday.  He had his whole family with him today and had the run of his dad’s cell phone which was playing music.  We showed off our mad peek-a-boo skills.
  • I got to skype with Jeffrey and Benjy and wish B a happy Father’s day and say goodbye to Jeffrey as he gets ready for camp tomorrow!

It was a great, great day.  And now I will collapse.  Goodnight to all!

 

 
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