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Out with the old
Well, I got here eventually, via all sorts of other 'bits'. Its all a trifle scary at first, 'spect I'll be up to speed by 2005.
The new set-up inspired me to to clean up my attic, can't be as difficult as sorting out a new-look 20six. Ha. Our loft is the history of our family. There is everything up there from hubby's naval cadets uniform when he was at school to the new suitcase we bought for last years holiday. In between there are terry nappies, star wars figures, beer-brewing stuff, a whole array of wicker baskets, a dismantled wardrobe, all the Birthday/Christmas /Anniversary Cards hubby and I have ever given to each other, and every school book three children had. So, I sat and sorted through 3 black bags of cuddly toys. Some had to go because they had gone solid, others because they were unrecognisable, but some had to be kept because I liked them, or they reminded me of something. Came across our baby changing-mat, last used 20 years ago, that went. Then a large tea-chest of curtains, kept one set because the are 'retro' and thought eldest daughter might like them, rest, out. Threw out 8 empty appliance boxes and 3 ancient sports bags. Didn't throw out my first nurses uniform, complete with starched apron, cap and belt, it has a novelty value, I'll certainly never fit in it again though. Unfortunately, I then came across the My little Pony stable and horses, these are now downstairs waiting to be washed and have their manes sorted out. So that was the end of the clear out for now. The two mattresses, old photographic enlarger, numerous single rolls of wallpaper, off-cuts of carpet and broken table lamp, amongst other c**p, will have to wait. The ponies await me.
Smile, and the world thinks you're mad
It's taking me ages to move around my blog now. I know I'll get used to it, eventually, but at the moment its a major celebration when I finally get to whatever I want to see or do AND where has my hit counter gone? It says it's there but then the numbers are hidden by that top little 20six banner. If I click on it up comes the website and if I then click 'back' and watch really carefully I see the figures, for about 2 seconds. The exercise is probably really good for improving my reaction time but its making my frown lines worse 'cos I squint at the screen.
When I got home from work today I looked outside and someone had scalped my grass. Where once it was verdant, now there is a huge smear of churned-up mud. Hubby was skulking in his garage. 'You've scalped the lawn', I hissed. I know, 'ungrateful cow' you're all thinking. Well, the garden is my province. If I had washed his car using a brillo-pad, he would be miffed, and quite rightly 'cos his place, in the scheme of our lives, is to wash the cars, mine is to do the gardening. Plus, he only did it to try and get into my good-books for bringing two of his drunken mates back from the pub with him last night and being rowdy until 2 this morning, when he knew I had to get up for work this morning. Wait though, that was not the end of his wrecking spree. He has broken the lawnmower. It starts, yes, the motor is roaring away, but the chassis is in two parts, straight down the centre the metal has snapped, hence the churning up of the grass, the jagged metal ploughed through the lawn leaving a good impression of a furrowed field. Oh, bless him. Thank heavens he's playing golf tomorrow whilst I'm at work, otherwise I might not have a garden to come back to.
Work is really relaxed, at the moment. The maternity unit today was nearly empty, and there was only one woman in labour. I've discharged all my ladies so there are none of the daily visits to do tomorrow. It does mean that I can catch-up on newly pregnant ladies though and my paperwork has never been so up to date. Its really scary though because all those babies have got to be born at some time so at some point it will get chaotic. Mother nature is a wonderful thing, but I think she missed the lesson on organisation and how helpful it can be to us mortals.
Karma
Hello little blog. At least I've got you to come and talk to. That big, bad old hubby is watching golf, again. He played golf today, then when I got in from work he was watching rugby, and now he's watching the Masters. I've been doing the Winnie-the-Pooh birth sampler for the unborn one but after a while the old eyes start complaining, so I've put that to one side.
I went and visited my sister today after work, with the expectant one. When we had nearly got there the mobile incubator decided that she was hungry, luckily my BIL had just cooked a roast dinner, and had a whole chicken left over. By the time we left he only had half a roast chicken left, and I hadn't eaten any! Daughter was happy though. Unexpectantly my Father was visiting, having just returned from his over-wintering in Cyprus, he looked very tanned and well and seemed pleased to see his Granddaughter. At the moment I am on-call, and he asked me when that finished, I replied that 5pm Sunday saw me able to have a life again. Pregnant one immediately piped up and reminded me that I am on-call for her now until she has the baby. Bloody hell! That's crept up on me. Now, it's not that I'm an alcoholic or anything but I do enjoy a drink in the evening but, obviously when I'm on-call a quick bevvy is out of the question. At a time when I need to be able to relax a bit it looks like yoga is the only aid I can use, and I can't even do yoga. I have to admit that sometimes now, when I think of her having the baby, I get butterflies and have to stop thinking about it. By the time this baby arrives I'm going to be so wound up that I shall probably self-destruct. Coming home in the car she complained that she had been having 'period type' pains for a couple of days, 'head-fitting' I said in an authoritarian manner, just to let her know that labour isn't allowed yet. This new approach comes from reading an article where some alternative midwife said that when a woman starts to bleed the first thing that she does it shout " STOP BLEEDING", and it works. I don't think that I will try this, except perhaps as a last resort when all else has failed, I have this sneaky feeling that if this was my response during a haemorrhage I might just get struck off and then put in a looney-bin. Being assertive seems to have worked with expectant one though, or it was just head-fitting, but being instructive is something I shall file away for future use.
HAPPY EASTER
The shame of it
Oh my God. There I am in the kitchen feeding the cats when my work mobile rings. It's 7.30 am and I thought they were calling me in or something. Pick it up, its not work its 121, the message service, then I notice the NINE missed calls. Call the message service, work had phoned me at 4.40am to go into the unit 'cos they were busy. S**t. Checked phone by bed, some p**t had switched it off. No morning shower for me, finish feeding moggies and I'm off to find out how much trouble I'm in. Hurtle on to labour ward, everyone knows that I didn't answer the phone, eat humble pie until I'm stuffed, then gingerly enter our office. 2nd on-call midwife sitting there with dark look on her face. Two other midwives staring at me expectantly. Start apologising, and they all start laughing at me. Apparently they knew there must of been a cock-up somewhere because I would not deliberately be so negligent. Also, as they pointed out to me, if they couldn't contact me neither could my daughter and they knew I wouldn't ignore her. Other on-call midwife was very good about having to get out of bed at 5am and cover for me, she wouldn't even let me pick her visits up for her. Everyone is being very jovial about my stupidity, jokes and comments flying around, I am not going to be allowed to forget this, even if I could. Luckily it wasn't a homebirth they were calling me to, it would have been disasterous if that had been the scenario. Anyway, once everyone had finished taking the mick it was agreed that it was a good job I hadn't come in because the reason they had needed a midwife was because one of the night staff was on her break and the feeling was that I might have questioned their action. Now, I'm sorry, I know breaks are important, but if the choice is between an at work midwife not having a break, or waking-up an on-call midwife, who has worked that day, her driving 15 miles to get to the hospital, and then working the following day. Which would seem to you to be the safest, most cost effective option? Knowing this doesn't make me feel any less guilty though, I still hadn't checked that the phone was on.
New life
Yesterday was a good day, I was working at the local Birth Centre so could really enjoy my midwifery. Looked after a lady who was labouring in the pool with her first baby, and then went on to deliver in the pool. Big baby - 9lbs 3ozs, lovely delivery, happy Mum and Dad. Baby came on his due date, one in ten chance of that, Mum was an accountant and she said it was because he had to keep to deadlines!
Having a lovely day off today. Hired a lawnmower and sorted out the grass, it's amazing the effect cutting the grass has on the appearance of the garden, it looks loved, which it is! Did loads of weeding, I think I'm going to have to spend tomorrow doing that as well because the little pests are springing-up like mad. Gardening is so therapeutic though, I can get so much stuff sorted out in my head whilst I'm titivating the beds.
Stripped all the linen off the bed in the room designated for the birth, covered the mattress with a plastic sheet, took the cover off the bean bag, and then washed it all and dried it outside, nothing beats the smell of linen dried out-of-doors. Put everything in the room we could possibly need and told the cats they are not allowed in there now until after B-day. Daughter isn't 37 weeks until Sunday so if anything happens before then she has to go into the hospital so I havn't yet organised the room or got the gas and air (entonox). Big, pregnant one came round on her way out shopping, I asked her to get a large bag of beans to top-up the bean-bag, I should have written it down though, she forgot! I suppose I'm lucky she didn't come back with baked beans or something. Asked hubby if he had thought about how he will manage if she is labouring all night and he has an early morning. He gave me a quizzical look and then suddenly all the lights came on. It's dawned on him. His first grandchild is imminent and the plan is she will have it here. I think he has been filing the concept away in the 'womens business' part of his brain, otherwise known as the 'not worth bothering about' lobe, now though he has got to start dealing with it. This should be interesting.
The feeding debate.
I want to say something about breast-feeding. I'm going to write it as I see it. I will possibly annoy some and please others, I don't mean to cause offense to anyone though. There is no arguement that IF a woman can breast feed it is best for her baby. There are many reasons though why women may not want, or be able to breast feed. If a woman wants to breast-feed I will give her every encouragement and all the help/support I can. This will be of no use at all though if her partner is not supportive as well. If there are two in the relationship, both parties need to be committed to establishing breast-feeding. Some women just really don't want to breastfeed. What am I gaining by beating the breastfeeding drum when it makes her miserable? As a midwife I am supposed to be 'empowering' women, giving them the choices and enabling them to make the decisions. If a woman, for whatever reason, when I have discussed feeding with her, told her that breast is best, wants to bottle feed then I feel that my role then is to support her decision and ensure that feeds are made correctly etc. If I followed the latest thinking I should not do this. Having said this, I do get annoyed when some midwives undermine breast-feeding. I have had three children, and breastfed them all. It was not easy though, at first. With the first one breast feeding was not the fashion, I was given zero support. She was taken away following delivery as she needed to go to special care for a few hours. She was given two bottle feeds. When she came back to me no one helped me with the first feeds, I couldn't latch her on, she got low blood sugar, they gave her another bottle. I came home, the midwife told me to give her a bottle after every feed (top-up) because my milk wasn't in.. Being young, not knowing any better, I did as I was told. Eventually my milk virtually disappeared, so by 10 weeks she was totally bottle fed, and I felt like a failure. I blame the midwives for undermining me and not encouraging me to believe that my milk was all that the baby needed. Not one midwife helped me to breast feed. The other two never saw a bottle. For the first four weeks they seemed to be permanently attached to my boobs. My nipples were shredded, I lost the concept of night and day. Horrific. I was on the point of giving in loads of times. With one of them I began to picture them as a parasite or vampire. They gained weight though, they were well. Then, the nipples healed, the gap between feeds lengthened and feeding became a breeze. If I had been lucky enough to have more babies I would have breastfed them because the early difficulties were outweighed by all the later benefits. Visiting women after they've had their babies what I see most is couples who cannot believe that baby is getting enough milk, because they can't see the milk. What they need is reassurance, somone who will say to them "Yes, for some women it is difficult at first, but it does get better, and your milk (generally) is enough." What happens too often is that it is far easier to tell someone to give a bottle, than to stay with them for a while and boost their confidence, check the positioning, watch a feed and encourage them. Having said that though, it is equally important to be able to appreciate when breast feeding is not working, perhaps physically, perhaps mentally, perhaps emotionally, and to then support that woman in her decision to swap to the bottle. It's a fine line to tread, and I know that I don't always get it right. Ultimately it's the woman's choice and I want her to make her own choice.
I make no apologies for this outburst. I am not a breast feeding zealot. What annoys me is the lack of support, for which ever feeding decision a woman makes, which seems to permiate society. It seems to be an 'either you are with us or against us' mentality, and that's not healthy.
Is " He was snoring" a good defence for smothering your husband?