Tuesday, 30 December 2008

Birthdays, Christmas and New Year

It is DB's birthday tomorrow. I always feel a little sad for people who have birthdays close to Christmas. My friend had her baby this Christmas day. This baby is destined for a life of joint Christmas and birthday presents. The celebration of her birth will invariably be overshadowed by the festivities of Christmas. Perhaps I am just a little selfish. I don't want to share my birthday with anyone. Even Jesus.
Poor DB. Usually I don't even go to the effort of wrapping his presents in birthday paper. I just wrap them with the Christmas paper. This year however I have relented and got him some birthday paper. You know the kind they do for men. Dark colours with footballs and/or speedboats. Last year he was thirty and I forgot to buy the poor bugger a birthday card (if he ever did the same to me this would be a spare room offence). So I set my alarm and got up extra early to drive to the local petrol station. I did confess to what I had done and he said I shouldn't have bothered but I know he was glad I did.
Anyhow, this year I am working a night shift on New Year's eve (DB's birthday). This is so that I could have Christmas and boxing day off. I couldn't really argue.
On the subject of New Year I have decided that my resolutions for the New Year are as follows:
1. Stop smoking (this has been my new year's resolution nearly every year since I was 15 with a three year break in from 2003 to 2006 when I actually managed it).
2. Be less bitchy (also one that rears its ugly head every year).
3. Find a job that I actually like. (I'm thinking along the lines of millionaire play girl, property developer, novelist, or my truly heart felt one: Mum.)
4 Be happy. (easy peasy eh?)
I'll let you know how I get on.

Sunday, 21 December 2008

Not so secret Santa

It was decided (in my absence may I add) that our little group of friends at work would do a "Secret Santa". For those who are unfamiliar with the concept allow me to enlighten you: Secret Santa takes place among a chosen group and involves one person coordinating and randomly choosing who is to buy a present for whom. It is usually just a small token and generally it saves people from feeling obliged to buy for lots of people. Each person knows who they are to buy for but the recipient does not generally know who the present is from hence the name: "Secret Santa". There is usually also a price limit set to save embarrassment. However, our coordinator (Weird Sarah), did not fully grasp this and refused to set a limit. I chatted with another member of the group and we decided that £10 was a suitable amount.
Tonight I have been to Weird Sarah's house to exchange Secret Santa gifts, whereupon I was informed that the limit was £20! I am not amused for the following reasons: 1) The whole idea of secret Santa is to get a nice token for a reasonable price.b) Although my gift was perfectly lovely and from the White Company in Leeds, I now look like at penny pinching Yorkshire lass. Thirdly, £20 is extortionate! I have not spent £20 on some of my closest friends.(I realise that this may just fuel the aforementioned possibility of me being thought of as a penny pinching Yorkshire lass but I care not).
Anyway, in my confusion and bemusement I have left the house without distributing the Christmas cards that I had to give everyone. You set a limit, you must stick to the limit, the limit is there for a reason, without limits there is anarchy!

Friday, 19 December 2008

My very own soap box

Even more positive today. Went to see my GP who was lovely.Over the weekend I started to bleed and have extreme abdominal pain. My blood levels had reduced almost to nothing. It appears it was a miscarriage. A small blessing, not only was it not an ectopic pregnancy and I didn't have to go through the associated pain and heartache, but also I know that the fertilized egg managed to travel down my tube and try and implant in my uterus. Good news. This is my silver lining.

My GP and I had a chat about the births of his children which were both at the hospital where I practice. I asked him which midwife had looked after his wife. He could not remember. She had a ventouse and a third degree tear so the birth was extremely medicalised. "Shame" thought I.
I wondered "Which came first?" Was this iatrogenesis? (a problem caused by a medical intervention, lots of it in the birth game)? Was the midwife intimidated because they were health care professionals and hence became over cautious? "I think I just heard a deceleration I'll just pop you on the CTG monitor for a while." therefore confining her to the bed unable to move with the rhythm and flow of natural labour.
Perhaps the woman herself insisted on an epidural. Perhaps she was admitted too early in labour.
When a woman is admitted in labour we assess dilatation of the cervix. The policy at our hospital is that if the cervix is 3 cm dilated the woman may be admitted to delivery suite in labour. I am vehemently against this policy. The reason for my objection is that once the woman is admitted the obstetric clock starts to tick. From here she must dilate at least half a centimetre an hour if this is her first baby and a centimetre an hour for subsequent babies. If she fails to meet this criteria then the obstetricians intervene. Perhaps by artificially rupturing the membranes, perhaps starting a hormone infusion to increase the strength of the contractions. Either way this begins a cascade of interventions which directly contributes to the increasing number of instrumental and operative deliveries. And, incidentally has not improved infant mortality or morbidity.
As a midwife if I could offer women any valuable piece of advice it would be: have your baby at home. Research has shown that this is as safe, if not safer, as having your baby in a hospital for normal low risk pregnancies. If you do not choose to have your baby at home then remain at home for as long as you can in labour. Do not even think of going into hospital until your contractions are one every two minutes, lasting a good 60 secs and rendering you unable to move speak or do anything other than concentrate on the contractions.
Once this pattern has established for at least one to two hours then call the hospital. If I answer I will advise you to stay at home a while longer, take paracetamol and have a warm bath.
I do not do this because I am a terrible Midwife who cannot be bothered seeing you. I do this because I am concerned that you will arrive too early and become the passive recipient of interventions that you do not require. You are women! You can do this! Have faith in your body and it will not let you down. I have seen many women following the birth of their babies. None are more proud and elated than those who give birth naturally, perhaps in the pool, perhaps on dry land, on all fours hunched over a bean bag. Listening to what their bodies are telling them. And of course, a midwife; quiet, observant. Listening to the baby's heart rate once in a while. Watching the labour progress. Offering words of gentle support and encouragement. You can do this!
I used to love my job. I was passionate and motivated. I was going to single handedly change maternity services in this country. However, working within the NHS one soon becomes despondent. Poor resources, medicalisation, midwives being sued by the women for whom they care. It becomes increasingly difficult to practice good midwifery. The other day on delivery suite I looked at the board. Except for one woman in the pool, every woman had an epidural. You can not fight this. This is what the majority want. They are scared, they have lost faith in their bodies. They have had tiny baby sized shrouds waved at them too many times "If you don't conform your baby will die and it will be all your fault".
My passion is all but gone. Every so often I look after a remarkable couple and have a lovely day doing what I do best. I come home and I think "today I made a difference". That couple will remember their midwife. That is why I am still here. That is why I continue. Perhaps I am making a difference, just a little bit at a time?

Thursday, 18 December 2008

Work, all is forgiven.

Feeling a bit more positive today. I decided to go and see my friend down the road. She is the wife of Darling Boyf's (DB) friend and we used to see one another much more frequently when I first moved up here. However, due to circumstances and the fact that she is very bossy I see less of her and we get along just fine.
Bossy friend was at home nursing a hangover and a 3 year old with a stomach bug. She has had her kitchen done and it looks fab!
We sat and chatted a while about nonsense (difficult to hold a conversation when the 3 year old tells you to stop talking as she can't hear the television)and I gave her the Christmas presents for the children (she also has an 8 year old).
That was the highlight of the day. Here I sit watching American sitcom's. I think it is time I went back to work. It keeps me grounded and less self indulgent.

Sunday, 14 December 2008

My hero

I awoke this morning with the sadness still heavy on my heart. Today my DB came home. He arranged a flight out from Houston and landed this afternoon. It all feels so much better now he is here.
He has a plan, he has a hug, he has reassurance. I snuggle up to him his tiny chest hairs that I used to complain about when we first met, tickle my nose. This is my favourite place in the world. This is where I feel safest. This is where I know we can conquer the world. This is the man whose baby I know I will have one day. Just not this time. Third time lucky?
If I never have a child it will be a great sadness but to never have known love like this would have been a tragedy. Although life is less than happy and joyful at the moment I count my blessings: good friends, good family and a man in my life that makes everything else pale into insignificance. We are at home where we should be. Making plans for the future. Knock us down and we dust ourselves off and get right back up again. A force to be reckoned with.

Saturday, 13 December 2008

Sadness in the cottage

In August of this year I had an ectopic pregnancy. This occurs when the fertilized egg implants somewhere other than the uterus, usually as it was in my case the implantation occurs in the uterine tube. As I was unaware that I was pregnant at the time it came as a shock when I was overcome by extreme abdominal pain.
Darling Boyf (DB) took me to our local A & E and I was then transferred to the gynae ward. I was taken to theatre the next day following a night of excruciating pain, vomiting and despair. I was found to have lost two litres of blood in my abdomen and required removal of the tube and a blood transfusion.
As you can imagine it took some time to get myself back to normal following this event.
DB and I have been trying for a family since last January. The ectopic set us back a little but we decided to get back on the horse a few weeks after the ectopic. I am now pregnant again. However, the news isn't good. It appears that I am having another ectopic. As blissfully ignorant we were of the fact that I was even pregnant last time, this time we knew almost immediately. We got excited, we changed the tea bags to decaffeinated and planned when we were going to make our announcement. Christmas day. I am totally devastated and extremely angry that this is happening. They are monitoring blood levels and they seem to be staying the same. Not good. They should be doubling. To top it all off I had dealings with a smart arse of a junior doctor the other day who took it upon herself to withhold my results until she could bother herself to ring me. She never did. She kept me waiting tormented all day. Finally I phoned the ward and spoke to a human being. The ward sister. She informed of the bad news regarding my results.
The pain is nowhere near as bad as last time but I was further on last time. This is the same pain that I had for a couple of weeks before my last ectopic. This is how I know. I am scared that I will have to endure the same as last time. I am frightened that this time I wont be strong enough. I am petrified that I will lose a tube or worse my life. I want to close my eyes and wake up again when its all over and I am no longer pregnant. Start again afresh in January. Pretend this event didn't happen. Pretend that I have the same chance as everyone else of having the baby that we both want so much. Pretend that life isn't cruel but that the universe really does love me and gives me that which I so desperately desire.
I am most angry because I know that there will be women who will find out that they are pregnant while I am going through all this and wont even want a child. Maybe go on to terminate the pregnancy. Or women who are cruel and neglectful of the children they have already. Life is cruel. My life in particular seems to be especially so. A drunken, violent father, my brother and best friend commits suicide. A bastard man who I fall in love with when I am 17 gives me chlamydia. Now my tubes are blocked and I am suffering even more pain than the bastard made me suffer 15 years ago.
Universe I am angry. It is someone else's turn now for heartache. I have had my share. There are people in the world who hurt children, men who beat their wives, women who neglect their children., doctors who treat their patients with anything less than dignity and respect. I do none of these things. I am soft and gentle and caring and giving. I definitely do not deserve this. Stop this please, leave me alone to be happy as you seem to do so many others.
DB is in Houston but flying back home and should arrive tomorrow. I am totally devastated. I don't know what to do with myself. Why can't I have a baby? Merry Christmas