Being on Call
Being on call… I was asked some time ago: If there was one thing you had known about becoming a midwife before you began training that you know now, would you still have chosen to become a midwife on call for home births? My answer was: “The realities of being on call.Knowing that I would be on call 24/7. That my phone would have to be charged and near me at all times!” I knew that attending home births and being on call would entail all of these when I chose to walk the path of midwifery and attending home births but the realities of it are quite different from any selfless fantasies one might have about it. Seeing the disappointed faces of my children as we turn around the moment we walk into the library or leave the beach, or miss a much loved extra-mural activity. Having to miss birthdays. Leaving for a birth on Christmas day. Missing New Year’s. Missing my very good friend’s wedding. Or feeling too tired to enjoy any of the above… And having that bloody phone so close to my head as I sleep and having to jump up and check EVERY SINGLE MESSAGE that pings its way into my world at all hours of the day. I curse at pointless emojis and kisses and notifications that I have won R500 000 from Coca-Coal via sms – I am trying to sleep! And having to check and answer every message and call even when you need to desperately sleep after two back to back births. Being on call means being available. 100% available. It means being willing, and able, to drop everything, no matter how important and valuable, to go and sit and just be at someone’s birth. If you want to practice a path of non-attachment then being an on-call midwife is it. I have had a nice break from being on call, teaching in Spain and Portugal in July. Being able to leave my phone in my caravan while I taught, or letting it die completely for a day or two was a rare treat. Now I am back in South Africa and life carries on. Being with my children. Four children. Homeschooling. Extra murals. Outings. Housework. Meetings. Teaching. Seeing clients. Walking on the beach. Life! And somehow I am supposed to drop everything and fit a birth into all of this? This busy, full, demanding life I have created for myself? And yet, somehow, when that phone rings or pings, and it is time to go – whether in the library, or the beach, or at breakfast, or more than likely, in the middle of the night, while it is raining and I am in the deepest sleep – time is somehow able suspend itself and I am able to make space for this woman birthing her baby. My mother was a midwife and her attending births was often more of a nuisance and an annoyance than fascinating to me while growing up. It meant that she would be tired and unavailable. But, it also meant, that when I fell pregnant, she dropped everything to be with me in labour and for the first time I saw how essential the work she did was for the woman in labour – her calm and presence held me through that experience and afterwards I thought, “This is the coolest job on the planet!” and wanted to be able to do just that for women in labour after that. But why do it? Why sacrifice family, children, friends? Is it worth it? It is. It really...
Read MoreThe Cape Town Midwifery and Birth Confernce
Have you ever been to the Cape Town Midwifery and Birth Conference? Well, if you haven’t and you are passionate about all things pregnancy and birth related, and live in, or near Cape Town (although people do travel from further afield to attend), you really really should come. What is the CT Midwifery and Birth Conference and what makes it particularly special? The conference began in 2013 when a bunch of women, got together and decided that they had had enough of the situation around birth in South Africa (the ridiculously high caesarean rates in the private sector and the abuse of labouring women in the public sector to name but a few). The CT Midwifery and Birth Conference was born and we were pleasantly surprised to find that many other people felt the same way and crowded little Erin Hall so that it was full to bursting! One midwife who attended said that the conference felt like a home birth. It is all about sharing and collaboration. It is about hearing the stories of all of those invested and affected in the services provided. Mothers. Fathers. Families. Midwives. Doctors. Doulas. Birth Activists. Lactation Consultants. All those affected and invested – especially those on the receiving end. The next conference (our third) will take place on the 30 – 31st of October 2015 at the Observatory Community Centre. For more info and for the full programme and list of speakers, have a look here: Cape Town Midwifery and Birth Conference official website And here is the direct link if you want to book your ticket: Get your tickets...
Read MoreWhat Does Midwifery Mean to you?
Midwifery means seeing each woman for who she is and really seeing her, seeing that spark in her when even she cannot sense it.
Read MoreLast Week we Gathered to Chat About Home Birth
We do this every three months here in Cape Town, in a lovely home in the seaside village of Muizenberg. Lana and I have been running these gatherings for the last five years. They were born out of a need and a desperation to provide support and information to those seeking direction and advice around this obscure birthing option and the gatherings have gained a momentum of their own. When we first started them we would work so hard to spread the word, posting flyers to all the midwives and interested antenatal teachers. We would arrange speakers and explore themes. We would advertise and spread the word and we would always lose money running them but loved it and loved the responses and stories we got. They were always worth it. And then something shifted. The gatherings grew. And so did the stories. And the variety and range of people who came. It has become such a safe space to listen and share. Mothers, fathers, doulas, midwives, interested parties attend and all seem to leave humbled and moved. As do we. Every time. Mothers share their birthing experiences, their eyes still glowing with oxytocin. These women, these strong strong women, share what made them feel strong and empowered. They share their vulnerable and beautiful stories to a hungry audience, an audience who needs affirmation and support in the choices they are making. “Stories teach us in ways we can remember. They teach us that each woman responds to birth in her unique way and how very wide-ranging that way can be. Sometimes they teach us about silly practices once widely held that were finally discarded. They teach us the occasional difference between accepted medical knowledge and the real bodily experiences that women have – including those that are never reported in medical textbooks nor admitted as possibilities in the medical world. They also demonstrate the mind/body connection in a way that medical studies cannot. Birth stories told by women who were active participants in giving birth often express a good deal of practical wisdom, inspiration, and information for other women. Positive stories shared by women who have had wonderful childbirth experiences are an irreplaceable way to transmit knowledge of a woman’s true capacities in pregnancy and birth.” – Ina May Gaskin I feel honoured and blessed to be part of these gatherings every three months. I do wish we could run them more often but for now, every three months will have to do. Thanks again to all who come and share....
Read MoreI Never Want to go Near That Hospital Again!
I never want to go near that hospital again! Strong words said by a mother… Then another mother says to me, “There’s no way I’m going to the hospital!” And then another mother says, “I don’t want to go to the hospital for even one check up. Everyone I know ends up with caesareans…” Three different mothers. Three very different scenarios. Three very different backgrounds. Three different belief systems. And yet this very strong underlying feeling from all three. And all in the same week. What do I do? What do I say in these situations? I sit and write this whilst waiting for my students to arrive. I am part of a group of women who teach the 4th and 5th-year medical students ‘compassion’ as part of their obstetric training. It is a programme that was started several years ago by midwife Robyn Sheldon. The students arrive and I put away my pencil and notebook. They are chatting amongst themselves. I hear the words, “I am so tired.” repeated several times. We begin the tutorial by sitting quietly and comfortably in chairs in a circle. The pressure is off and all we need to do is observe our individual breath as it moves in and out of our nostrils. We allow ourselves to just be. We observe or thoughts, emotions and feelings as they arise and drift in and out of us. We note the hustle and bustle taking place around us in the hospital. The clanging. The announcements. The hurried footsteps. The cars in the road outside. We notice these things but each time we go back to our breath, allowing that to be our centre and anchor. After some time, we open our eyes. Now it feels like we have truly arrived. It feels like we are truly present and can now truly see each other. We begin the tutorial by going around the circle and checking in. How has their week been in the labour ward? One by one, we go around the circle and what I hear is distressing story after distressing story. They are exhausted. They feel overwhelmed. They do not like how they are being treated and they cannot bear how the women in labour are being treated. They cannot wait for this part of their training to be over. Some had really looked forward to being in the labour ward and being part of birth and babies, bringing new life into the world. But right now, it feels like a war zone and something they need to get through and survive. I tell them briefly about the blog post I was working on when they came in and the title, I never want to go near that hospital again! I tell them about the three different women who shared these sentiments in three different settings and all in the same week. I say it is a pity because, in an ideal world, these women would live in a society where they could trust and feel supported by the health care system. What has happened when seeking help from places meant to heal and support comes as a last resort? Or is stressful and traumatic? Or something to be avoided at all costs? We discuss this further for some time when one student pipes up, “You can add one more person to your blog post who never wants to go near a hospital again, a fourth-year medical...
Read More