In my normal, day to day life, with family, friends, co-workers and
neighbors, I am a pleasant, easy to get along with person with a balanced
personality, not subject to mood swings, with a rather optimistic view of
life. As a midwife taking care of women, I am understanding, enthusiastic,
and supportive.
As a midwife trying to bring about changes in so many ways, I myself
change--into a schizophrenic, mania/depressive personality!
There I am one day, setting the date for our first meeting with the
doctors of the ward, to talk about the change of concept needed if we are
to enable our women to deliver their babies without drugs and intervention.
I type up pages full of midwifery philosophy and birth plans, read
paragraphs over the telephone to another midwife, ask which doctors should
be invited and who I should send all these papers to. The next day, with my
adrenaline high, I give the papers to our head doctor, who had originally
approved of the idea. Two hours later he comes back to me, angry: Who was I
to take it upon myself to write these papers, and to suggest who they
should be sent to?! Oh, and did we decide on a date for this meeting? He
didn't remember such a thing.
BANG! All the air is out of my balloon. Was I crazy to think that change
was really possible? That's it--it is only a huge illusion that any real
change will be made in our ward. Oh yes, perhaps the doctors will OK the
idea to spend some money on a decorative lamp or bed cover, and a little
sign near an enlarged room saying "Room for Natural Childbirth," or maybe
even a bath!--but will any real effort be made to change anything in our
policies toward making childbirth a more normal physiological happening
rather than a potential for an any-time-now catastrophe?
For two days I contemplate leaving--maybe forever!--my loving family, my
community, my friends and going off to any part of the world so I can *just
be a midwife!* For two days I just do my work, expecting nothing but
complicated births, and surprisingly the women I am with have beautiful,
uncomplicated births and are so appreciative of my way of helping them! So
in spite of myself, my spirits rise. And when another midwife asks me to
quickly put in an IV line and add some Pitocin to a birthing mother who is
rather stuck in her second stage, I quietly suggest that we try the "towel
method" (the mother pulling the towel while pushing the baby out) that I
learned from the Alaska List. Two pushes later, the baby is out. This
usually ungracious midwife compliments me on the "new method" and I am
happy again! When I think about all the changes that have taken place at
our ward in the past three years, I *know* that change *is* possible! But
then a thought goes through my mind again: this is only a drop in the sea!
So am I schizophrenic, or what?
-Leslie
Reprinted from Midwifery Today E-News (Vol 2 Issue 18 May 5, 2000)
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