Loving the Question

Half my life

2011-06-05T22:08:00.003+08:00

This year, I have been a parent for exactly half of my life.

Wow, what a journey. I am certain it has been the making of me, and I can't imagine my life without them in it, but I'm beginning to understand that daily contact is not necessary!

Our eldest moved away from home last December, 3000km away. Where all the cool people live. (waves at Melbourne). He is back at the moment for my birthday, and it is actually strange having him under the roof again (yes, he still has the same squeeze). No flies on him though - at what age do they stop hoping to cadge free shoes from parents?

When he left home I was a bit of a sook for a while. I figured out that it was because I didn't know when I would see him again. In the past I had had a date on the calendar for when he would walk in the door again. I was quite bereft without him, and was struck by how much I missed his presence, his bulk, his hugs and his company. I realised how unnatural it was for me to not be able to picture where he was. I had given birth to someone who was now a large man, roaming the Earth in a different city, and being all . . . functional and adult and grown up. Someone would see my son walking down the street, and interact with him, appraise him, like him or not, and it was out of my ken. I was not a face in that particular crowd. I was not breathing that same air with him any more. He was not returning to me. I felt the apron strings come undone. I had underestimated the lump it would make in my throat.

Once I figured out that it was a lack of a calendar entry that was troubling me I had to mentally commit to a visit to Melbourne mid-year. The separation then became easier to bear, and I settled down, and could think about him without become teary. I enjoyed my mental image of a confident capable adult son out in the world.

When I arrived home one day in late-March after a super day at work, with TWO births I was as high as a kite and bursting to share the fantastic day I had had. It was also our daughter's birthday, so all in all a great day, with a restaurant meal to look forward to. My key was in the door when I heard an adult male voice talking in the kitchen - he had been brought home on FF points by the squeeze as a surprise for his sister's birthday! He had been in town for 2 days already, lying low for a surprise! He scooped me up in a huge hug, and was really very tolerant of me patting him reassuringly all evening. I was so surprised, and so delighted. It was brilliant.

Our youngest is still home, and likely to stay here for some time, although she is keen to move out, in principle. She is not working at the moment, had to resign her job due to terrible eczema/dermatitis on her hands. Her health has been quite challenging in the last 9 months, with one thing and another, and the appointments are very frequent. We thought we were off all that frequent flyer stuff, but she has had 2 operations and not too many answers, although it is reassuring to have ruled some stuff out. She is doing one afternoon of maths refresher stuff at her level, and other than that sits on the computer/ watches DVDs, plays her music (Glee anything) and obsesses about the cat. She finds it really hard me being out all day with this new job, coming and going as much as I do. She has few friends and doesn't go out much, and is not nearly as independent as most people her age, although that is improving. She really needs to meet a sweet boy, but doesn't go anywhere to meet any :( She has however taken up the challenge of cooking dinner one night per week, which is a help. Now - how to trick her into taking up the rest of the housework! Well, thats not strictly fair, she does do a bit of food shopping as well during the week. However she has NO idea how to plan major stuff, and we are frustrated by her passivity in this matter. If she moved out next week it would be a fast-track to boredom, anxiety and malnutrition. . ..with added cats. We are starting to look into future options.

DD was away for a fortnight in April and we experienced the wonder of the empty nest.

And we want MORE!

Epidermis

2011-05-30T21:45:00.004+08:00

We have three layers of skin.

These lie sequentially beneath each other, and collectively they shelter us from the outside world, and keep us from oozing ourselves out.

You can tell someone's age by the state of their skin, especially on the hands and the neck. About a year ago I noticed that my hands were getting a little crepe-y. My neck likewise, at certain angles. Unless it was being held out by fat layers when I pulled my chin inwards while laughing. Or breathing. Or living life. It was surprisingly easy to capture me with a round face and double chins. Did you notice I mentioned that as if it was the past tense? Snort! well, I have lost a bit of weight but there is no danger of my face falling into sheets of wrinkles any time soon, I promise you.

My hands display the scars of careless usage, of play-fights with friends in a high school yard, or at the weekends - turns out her nails were sharper than mine! I bit my nails until I was 12, quite deeply, into the quick, down to about a third shorter than their length now. I stopped through an act of great determination, and with the assistance of a classmate, who was invited to poke me and remove my hands if she saw them stray to my mouth. Bless her. I think it was Mandy Johnson. I can't bear to have rough nails now, I have an emery board in every handbag, my purse, my cars, behind the mirror, in most rooms of the house. I hate to wear rubber gloves, and somehow I am continually surprised that my manicures won't last beyond 2 days, some less than 24 hrs!

The first touch of ungloved hand on intimate flesh is a threshold I never thought I would cross, but I have - willingly. There is an immediacy, a truth in the connection between the parties involved that stretches back through time. Receiving a warm slippery life from the depths of a woman's body, after watching a head emerge and pause, blinking and blowing bubbles, poised between worlds. A final impetus and the baby emerges to claim their own place in the world. My skin sings with the memory of such things.

My skin has known feast and famine. Stretch marks and blows. Massage and sunburn. Kisses and fibreglass rods. Sequins and blisters. Cotton and raindrops. Passion and cold shoulders. Yet it survives.

When I look around at my peers my facial skin is quite supple, aided no doubt by the, um, cushioning beneath. Not dry, still relatively oily really. Some crowsfeet, a few shallow wrinkles, that neck tendon separation thing in the front. Quite a few freckles. Lots of moles (note to self). Laugh lines are visible. Grey hairs too, faster than I can get to a bottle sometimes. I wonder when I will be ready to go grey? I don't think it will be this month.

In terms of thickness of skin, I think mine is pretty tough. I have had a few slings and arrows aimed at me lately, and seem to be doing ok. The odd glancing blow, a bruise here or there, but nothing I need to really worry about. Self-inflicted injuries. . . .well, not too many, on the whole. Skin needs to be thinner in places, its natural, especially around the eyes, otherwise how would tears escape (for escape they must). However I wouldn't like to be thin-skinned all over. Such a raw ended life must be intolerable.

Skin comes in so many shapes and colours. The contrasts are astounding. The deepest blue-black hues, pink bits, creamy cafe-au-lait, lobster red, sallowed and ivory and porcelain. Blue-tipped fingers in the cold, flushing with vigour or first breaths. It is all such a miraculous rainbow, yet skin all feels the same to a blind man.

How is it that we are judged by the state or colour of our skin? By the lines or wrinkles? By the colour expressed by genetic pre-destiny? By the masks we wear? The amount of skin we show the world? The money we spend to tan it, cover it up, rub it back, tattoo it, shade it, repair it or remove it? The scars and marks accumulated by wear and tear, choices and no-choices. It all tells a tale.

I will be happy to drag my carcass of skin around with me for a lot longer. It has given me good service so far. I wonder how many marks it has yet to accumulate?

Countdown

2011-05-28T21:39:00.004+08:00

Why the blog silence?

Long story.

Short version : this is a very different arena with so much more I would love to share with you, but these things and events must essentially remain unbloggable.

Long version: It seemed a good place to leave things, with me heading off into the sunset (or maybe it was a sunrise) over the horizon.

My life as a midwife has broadened immensely. And so therefore I have so much more to lose should this small world be revealed. Plus I've signed all manner of contracts to that effect.

I am not so vain to assume my meagre life outside my (challenging but rewarding) new job would hold much interest for many. Besides: life outside work? What life outside work?

At this point I am 8 days away from a month long holiday. And I am, shall we say, most keen for this to commence.

This post is to say I have neither forgotten how to blog, nor forgotten any of you. I am reading your blogs, if not quite as voraciously as I once had the time to do, then at least regularly. And I am (oh, slings and arrows) Facebooking much more than is required. Its hard work 'keeping up' with 400+ friends. I have spoken to all but about 10 of them in real life, or online, even so it is a little amusing to think I have so many acquaintances ;) Lets just say that it is both a good and a bad thing.

Lastly, I am about to turn 50. In 16 days time.

I think I feel ok about that.

But I thought I would work out any potential issues I had with the big 5-0 by talking to the Universe. And that's where you come in.

Stay tuned.

Last days

2010-09-10T20:23:00.003+08:00

Snapshots from my 'place of birth'

A final week of madness on the ward. The hospital is in crisis mode, with a serious bed shortage and a staffing shortage to boot (I have not offered to work an extra shift this weekend).

I was lucky enough to work the same 4 rooms for 4 days, and saw 9 different women through those rooms, and 5 different babies. Some babies were in the nursery, some hadn't come out to play yet. All but one of the babies were great feeders, with sensible practical mums. It really makes a difference.

I can't tell you how many bells I answered, but it was a LOT. I have a sore foot currently and am limping alot of the time, which makes my other hip and my back sore. I was not pleased with frivolous ringing of bells, but I did take a certain pleasure in seeing that I would not be answering bells next week. Just mobile phonecalls.

I had my last late-early split. Bliss. I am well aware that I will be on call and I may long for the life of a rostered day off, but just let me enjoy this tiny fantasy, will you?

I worked a late, early, early, early, and was in a meeting from 9.30-1.40 today. Hubby was away on business and I had to walk/limp to and from work all week as I have no parking permit at work, and I live pretty close anyway so its not worth taking a car for an 8 minute walk. Unless you're limping. This part of the week DID suck.

Word was still spreading about my departure, so I have broken the news and said goodbye to many people all week. I have enjoyed much goodnatured ribbing about people making me hand-embroidered placenta bags if they'd known (my reply? Frankly my dear I'm bloody insulted you hadn't already wrapped it ready for me, what's the holdup? You've had 4 weeks notice!).

I have had 2 avo teas, with cake, wherein I received a lovely gift from my home ward, and many many good wishes, acknowledging my long-held desire to work in this field. Students and former students professed to have enjoyed birthing and working with me, saving lives with me, and laughing with me. I cried. I laughed. We hugged. I assured them I would not be far away, and would not be a stranger to them.

This morning I handed in my uniforms to the cheerful Julia in the hospital laundry/uniform section. She asked where I was heading and was delighted to hear that I was going to be a homebirth midwife. She regaled me with tales of her mother giving birth to 12 babies at home, including one caught by Julia herself when she was 13 years old. Her brother had come really fast and her dad was still away fetching the midwife!

This afternoon I had a final engagement with labour ward. Over two hours staff staggered in and out and asked for information about my next job. Some of them almost seemed to be giving grudging permission for this career move, but were greatly outweighed by those assuring me I would love it, and that it would be a great fit for me. There was much discussion about knowing me, and my capabilities, and knowing that I would understand their expectations if transfer occured. There was more ribbing about me phoning in to transfer primips who had been pushing for 7 hours (c'mon girls, you KNOW my minimum time limit before transferring is 8 hours) and much curiosity about details, which I was largely unable to furnish, as I have yet to be oriented. I caught up on the gossip, who was pregnant (3 of them), who was planning to be and who had got new roles. It was great to touch base with these fantastic bunch of hardworking and talented midwives again. I have missed them over the last 6 weeks and was a little sad not to finish up with them on Labour ward. But I am sure I will see them from time to time, and I know it will be a warm welcome.

Lastly I handed in my security pass. I cried again, suddenly, and couldn't speak as the man took it from my hand, and I left the building with tears rolling down my face for the umpteenth time that day.

The tears are ones of recognition of the importance of that place in my life. Of gratitude to my colleagues who have taught me and shared so much. Of grief to be leaving their daily lives. I have been delighted to work there, to become the midwife that I am. My tears are also of pride in my accomplishments so far. The tears of transition.

Most of all, over the last 4 weeks, I have been humbled by the warm support of mentors. They have been open in their joy for me. I am certainly standing on the shoulders of giants. I mentioned before that I felt like I was at Everest base camp, still with one heck of a climb ahead of me, but Oh! The view!

Who knows what sort of midwife I am yet to become?

In safe, strong hands

2010-09-05T16:08:00.005+08:00

Today my husband's hands have opened presents.

They have eaten chocolate. And spooned porridge.

Fetched hot chocolate at swimming. Pressed timekeeper buttons at the competition.

Massaged the back of a swimmer.

Recorded a personal best time for our daughter.

Driven us safely home.

Eaten a picnic by the beach, and drank wine.

Done the fruit and veg shopping at the market.

Unloaded the dishwasher. Hugged our son.

Packed a suitcase to take him away for a brief business trip.

Opened the door for the cat (umpteen times).

Later, they might get lucky ;)

But wherever those hands travel, I feel safe when I see them. They are strong. They are dependable. I love to hold them, and be held by them.

They held our babies many years ago, and continue to do so. Safely.

We are very lucky to have them.

Happy Father's Day my love.

Everest Base Camp

2010-08-19T22:44:00.003+08:00

I have had one hell of a week. In a good way.

I had a job interview on Monday with a publicly funded homebirth program, one that has led the way for their model of care, one that has been replicated across the country. It has always been my goal to work for them, when I had enough experience. I was encouraged to apply. I applied with my fingers crossed. I thought 'well, if I get an interview I'll be pleased, and I might be a chance, but I will be hysterical if I truly get it'.

I got the job.

Yep. You read it right.

I got the job, my dream job.

And now the climb, the steep learning curve really begins.

I am skipping with happiness.

I wrote my resignation letter, and handed it in person to all my managers. Then I howled on and off about leaving all my lovely workmates that I have shared so much with. Each day since, I have broken the news to a new set of people. Its very exciting.

And then, yesterday to top it off, and just when I was lamenting that I would not catch another baby at my hospital, one of my women on the ward went into precipitate labour while I was at tea. I returned to hear her distressed behind her curtain in the shared 4-bed room. She nearly clawed my arm off and it was clear she was nearly ready to push. Which was a bit of a shame ... because only 2 hours before she had signed for a repeat CS, especially if she laboured. I notified the coordinator that we needed to move, like NOW, and returned to her with a pair of gloves, just in case. She was in the throes of another contraction. She clung to the coordinator, who talked her through it, then she allowed me to examine her - wa-hey! Fully dilated and a breech close to the world. Seemed a shame to waste a perfectly good CS on a baby who had plans for exit via an alternate route.

We ran with her on the bed to LBS and shanghaied a passing consultant as we skidded around a corner. I found the first empty room and we pushed the bed through the curtain, pulled a warm baby blanket bundle out and threw it on the heater. Then I changed gloves and returned to the woman still on her ward bed and peeked under the sheet - and there was a breech on view. She crawled across onto the birthing bed. I waved my ward coordinator goodbye, and volunteered to stay as the only other midwife around was having her first day at work. The LBS coordinator assembled a team of paediatricians and spare hands, and I urged her to ignore everyone else and focus on me, which she managed really well, and I spoke quietly and encouraged her to go for it, and praised her to the eyeballs. The consultant stood next to me, and talked me through the birth, giving a small hand here and there. And so . . . . I caught my second VBAC breech baby! All pretty textbook. This one was close to term so the maneuvres were harder than last time, but it all went smoothly. I would have preferred a hands off approach, but in that setting it was never gonna happen, and honestly it was an excellent result.

I was utterly thrilled! The woman was shocked but delighted. I handed over to the afternoon staff and tottered back to the ward to pick up the threads of my day, after a very adventurous 90 minutes away! The staff were all agog, it was the talk of the hospital that a midwife had done this birth! The young doctors were high-fiving me, and were delighted to have seen a vaginal breech birth. My manager came back from lunch and told the tale, only to find out it had happened to one of her ward patients with one of her midwives! She then got the full story straight from the horse's mouth.

I saw the woman again today and she is glowing, just radiant that her body worked and that she could give birth vaginally, and that she could be up and about and so well, rather than recovering from surgery. Baby was in nursery for a day or so, but he is nearly ready to come up to the ward! 2.35kg nearly 36 weeker. We congratulated each other on our cleverness, and had a big hug. She is such a darling, and was so brave during her 'amazing experience'. My sixty-ninth baby. Her second. Unforgettable.

I'll miss this place, but I'm looking forward to exploring the big world outside and I know that whatever the setting....I love being a midwife.

And the winner is Syd-dnee! (now with added dugong)

2010-08-03T22:06:00.009+08:00

Uh-oh. How did it get to be August already?

Somehow I have not posted since June. Oopsie. Its not that nothing has been happening. Shall I recap? June 23 - we all headed to Sydney. We bagged a superb apartment that we all wanted to move in to permanently, right near the town hall. It was drizzly but we didn't care.

We wandered out to Darling Harbour in the dusky gloom along a street that somehow contained all the hiking shops, every chain, every supply you could want, holding our umbrellas against every pissing awning - and there were plenty of 'em!

We walked across the Pyrmont bridge and into the Aquarium which we essentially had to ourselves. It was wonderful. Much bigger than when I had last been there in 1988. The displays were enchanting, and really easy to photograph too if you had a steady hand.

There was a special dugong exhibit, with a pair of dugongs lolling about quite mournfully at one end of the pen and slowly crossing the tunnel above our heads and returning to the wooden pier where they would try to hide in a corner. There was nowhere to hide. Yet it was still entrancing to watch these creatures, even though I had a clear impression that I was intruding on their privacy. Excuse me, maam.

Another tunnel contained a shark pool where the toothy crowd were a bit more lively and numerous. Nothing scary, just ...Establishing Respect.

The upstairs exhibits were fantastic, but the big tanks really were stunning! When I say big I mean BIG! HUGE! probably about 5m deep and at least 15m in diameter, all landscaped and populated with reef fish, or deep sea fish, or sharks or rays, Nemos and Dories, just fantastic and surprisingly entertaining. Great big fish looking mournful. It was wonderful, I'm so glad we went.

We then walked past the damp World Cup Soccer Village all the way to the other end of Darling Harbour and into China Town where we had dinner in a very chaotic restaurant. I have no idea what we had but it was delicious, and there seemed to be a LOT of Taiwanese people in there, enjoying a ridiculous gameshow on a big screen. Fascinating place. Couldn't for the life of me tell you what it was called, sorry, but it was popular.

Slept like logs in our sumptuous rooms. The apartment had 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, a laundry, a full kitchen and a huge living and dining room, big TV, all brand new and modern, with 2 balconies overlooking the rooves of churches and in eyeline with skyscrapers. We were on the 27th floor! It was brilliant.

The next morning my cousin arrived. Katharine is my youngest cousin (of 23 first cousins), I was 17 when she was born. She is living in Sydney now after being brought up between England and Perth. She is just lovely, and I wish I could see more of her. We stayed with her Mum in 2007 in London. K is very arty and has recently directed her first short film. She works heaps in the arts scene and we were delighted to catch up with her and be shown around the Sydney Opera House backstage - we even had coffee in the Green Room, and saw the Sydney Biennale on Cockatoo Island. The art was thought provoking and really evocative, and often really out of left field. There was a plywood model of the Hubble Space telescope, that seems like a steampunk had had a hand in it! I also enjoyed the piece with a car flying overhead in a shower of sparks. Cockatoo Island is the site of old naval shipyards and the buildings and spaces made me feel the presence of my Dad, who was a mechanic. The smells of oil on a dirt floor, and the industrial spaces and the rust. Being with his sister's only child. I'm sure he was with us as we wandered about that fascinating site, or maybe, just remembering him makes it seem that way. It was a gorgeous day and the free ferry ride was an added treat. Stephanie saw where Dance Academy was filmed, we went under the bridge, it was all good.

I've never spent long in the Circular Quay area before so it was such a treat to really see it, and wow what a place. It deserves the reputation as one of those locations where if you sit there long enough, the whole world will walk by. It is not only physically beautiful, in the sense of water and coves and clean air, and buzzing atmosphere but the man-made environment (i.e. the Bridge and the Opera House) is also gob-smacking. I hadn't expected to enjoy it so much but it truly was superb.

K also works at the Museum of Modern Art, right on the harbour, so we had spent the day in her environment. It was so enjoyable. She joined us for dinner back at our place, where we waited for the slowest Indian food delivery I have ever experienced. It was a bit average, but we talked and talked, and it was nice to just hang out with a family member I hardly ever get to see.

The next day - Taronga Park Zoo! Stay tuned!

2010-06-30T09:32:00.001+08:00

2010-06-28T06:08:00.001+08:00

2010-06-27T15:54:00.001+08:00

A quiet life

2010-06-18T22:27:00.003+08:00

Well, we've had 'the talk'.

I made it quite clear that it was unacceptable to know so much about their intimate life. And for our visitors to hear so much about it even at the other end of the house.

Would she make that much and that kind of noise at her mother's house? I was boldly told 'Yes, I do actually'. So I encouraged her to do it there instead, because I never, ever wanted to hear these sounds from her again. All luck to her for her talents, good for her, I had no objection to them engaging in sex, per se, at all. I just didn't need to hear it. Nor did his sister on the other side of the wall. Nor did his dad, his aunty, or I need to hear it. I was NOT kidding. I was approaching her directly about it because seven discussions with our son had been ineffectual.

There was no apology, from either of them.

They couldn't skedaddle back to his room quick enough and stayed in his room all evening, only emerging after my husband had gone to bed to have a 30 minute shower and talk loudly in the echo-y bathroom right next door to where hubby was sleeping. (insert grinding of teeth here)

They stayed in his room all day until 5pm, undoubtedly trying out silencing methods which must have worked because I didn't hear a peep out of them apart from talking and laughing occasionally. She left late in the day.

He wandered into my bedroom and asked if I was happier with the course of the day. I reiterated the level of distress that had built up over the last four months, and how I was quite clear about this being non-negotiable, about how it had been widely discussed with all and sundry in the suburbs and how I was by no means an island in feeling so alienated by their behaviour.

I described the advice about suitcases, buckets of water, ultimatums and unpleasantness on upcoming trips and the remainder of the year, and the undesirability of such courses of actions when compared to the relatively small price of cohabiting as adults while remembering our manners. I told him how much their voices carried. Especially in bathrooms late at night. How inconsiderate they had been. I described how my holiday period had begun with the frustration of being constantly hemmed in the house with a caterwauling young woman invading my personal and mental space being not at all what I had planned and now my final day of potential alone-ness was gone and I was pretty annoyed.

I wanted him to truly understand not only which side of his bread was buttered but how thick that butter was for a relatively small price of civility. The time was coming when he would be buttering it for himself, and it was important that he not take our butter for granted, and that would require some consideration for this final period of time we would be living together.

I think we have reached a new level of understanding. He said he was glad we had had it out. We had a few chuckles. We remain friends, but with a new, non-negotiable boundary.

Phew.

See that thing on the right?

2010-06-17T10:30:00.003+08:00

How do these things get handed out?

I ignored it for a bit, thinking it was a viral phishing code, but as I have barely posted anything this year I thought it would make for another post! Desperate huh?

Anyway, I have really mixed feelings about any such thing. You've probably noticed that I don't write so much recently about work and individual births. This is because I was heavily warned off by a series of events, including a lecture on cyber-presence and how one is vulnerable to 'flaming' if radical groups find you and take you on. Examples were given and my blog was used (among others) to illustrate the talk. This blog IS in the public domain, so it IS fair game to such things. No permission was necessary. But it made me feel vulnerable.

I also received a few comments accusing me of breaching confidentiality. Just a few, scattered over one or two posts, mixed with many times more comments appreciating the posts. But coupled with the warning lecture it put me off. I didn't enjoy writing it anymore, even though I still felt the same way, and reflected just as much as I always had, it was just in my head, instead of on the page and shared with readers.

I wondered if I could leave stories to 'cool off' for a while before telling them. Then days became months, and so many stories fell away from my memory. And I got out of the habit of sharing them with you. I felt silenced, but safe from criticism.

There have been many, many stories I wish I could share.

I haven't actually seen a baby pushed from a vagina in months. Truly. I did have a woman pushing with me two weeks ago, a first timer, but after an hour it became clear she was going to need a hand to get her baby out. But the doctors were busy. So even though I stayed late after a nightshift, I still didn't see the baby emerge.

I had another woman, another first timer last week. She was being induced for post-dates at 11 days after her due date. The balloon catheter hadn't budged after 18 hours. We deflated it and applied hormone gel high in her vagina near the cervix to help ripen it. My shift ended and I handed over to another midwife and student, who were between 2 rooms. I could see she was contracting a bit, but I went home. I thought I would have her again the next day (our third day allocated together for continuity). But she was left alone for a long time on that shift as they got busy in the other room. She called the bell later that evening and was attended by a different midwife who, finding a woman in some distress and contracting a fair bit, examined her. She was 8cm and proceeded to push her baby out two hours later!

So, a good result in the end, and a relatively uninterfered with 'natural' birth after a second induction attempt. I saw her the next day and they were a bit stunned but delighted with their daughter. They were pretty lucky that the docs were busy elsewhere, and that she was able to be undisturbed, even if they felt abandoned. I was sad they felt under-supported in the building labour, but thrilled for her that she achieved a vaginal birth, against the suspicion that her induction would be deemed a failure.

After a summer in the homebirth arena, well...at the shallow end of it....it is still chafing to find myself in a high-risk environment. Yet I am largely proud of the work we do in that world. We see a lot of stuff. A LOT of stuff. Big Stuff. Confronting and complex stuff. Life threatening stuff. And we do it, and deal with it, and do it well a lot of the time.

There are some who don't cope or thrive in that environment. There are some who have forgotten it can ever be any different. And there are some who have a bare minimum of exposure to complexity and emergency, and pooh-pooh those who work in those environments. I've met them all. Birth can turn in an instant. Recognising the instant is the art.

As a midwife I want to experience it all. I don't want to become so indoctrinated to swimming with sharks that I forget to take off my chainmail when dealing with goldfish. Yet I don't want to forget that birth (and life) is bigger than the goldfish bowl of homebirth. Most of the world sits somewhere in between. Its a tricky balancing act.

Yet despite the tightrope act....I love being a midwife.

My life in dot points

2010-06-15T14:19:00.003+08:00

Its all I can manage... But here are some questions Life has thrown at me lately.

Is it wrong to expect 24 year olds to silence their girlfriends during sex? Its been going on for 4 months now. When I was a girl I would have been mortified to think anyone would hear my activities....let alone be able to determine exactly how many orgasms constitutes a multiple event. Don't want to repress anyone's sensual life. Teensy bit of pride in son's ... um ... talents. Don't want to engender shame. It wouldn't be my shame anyhow. Just DON'T. Want. To. Hear. It. Any. More. Someone I was lamenting the situation to told me, "Laura, some women will come in a stiff breeze". Yes. So I hear. (sigh). Terse SMS war already on the issue. Repeated approaches to son to keep it down. Will I still be seeing this young woman at family meals with my grandchildren in 40 years time? Son's final university exam tomorrow. Am I a Bad, Disloyal, Enabling Mother? Or am I just being 'dissed'? Discuss.

Just how much stuff does one really need? Is it in inverse proportion to the amount of floorspace available for the purposes of walking around? (phew, moved out 4 crates of Stuff today, it helps already).

How long does one wait for midwifery models of care to shift? How does one bite one's tongue at the backroom discussions undermining women's desire for non-interventionist birth? Will I be happier in the long run just going independent and taking the blood pressure pills, being my own boss, and paying through the nose for PI insurance. Should I just move to New Zealand? How long is a piece of string? You get the idea. I'm doing a major review next week to take a snapshot of my career/practice so far. Why does one always feel ready to be shot down in flames. Am I trying to run before I can walk?

How will we face another major surgery for our daughter? This will be a biggie with the potential to really improve her life, but it won't be easy. It has come as a surprise, sort of. She's had similar surgery twice before, but doesn't remember it. I do. Gulp.

How good is it to have friends who love and support you? And listen to your whining. And write loving things about you. And share bookclub with you. And paint with you. And go to Vegas with you. I truly am blessed.

On a lighter note.....How good is this? Now these girls really know how to shop. And I thought I had good op-shops near me.

Will we all be fit and well enough for our trip? All four of us are limping or crippled in some aspect. This is lame (literally). We are all ready to feel well again. I am certainly sick of keeping the doctors in business, nice people though they are. I will keep taking (all) the tablets. Calm blue ocean. Calm blue ocean.

How will I pack? For 4 people, heading in 3 different directions at the end, for Sydney, Melbourne and Central Australia.

Bearing in mind that one must be alive to complain, and that we live in a well resourced country, with no war, and plentifully stocked supermarkets, and that our children have survived childhood, and that we have careers and sufficient income to service our whining whitebread world, and that I may just delete this whole post because I am so sick of the sound of my whining......answers on a postcard please.

On the road again

2010-05-26T22:27:00.007+08:00

Thanks for all your kind wishes on our anniversary. We had a lovely party, speeches were made and people caught up with. We really are most fortunate.

I have been away for a four-day weekend to rural Victoria. For those needing to repeat this exercise I have included instructions below.

Step one: get on a plane at 1am in the morning and fly throughout the night, arriving at your destination at 6.10am local time in Melbourne.

Step two: Pick up a car and drive by feel (consulting only a printout of the Google directions) to the northern border twin-towns of Echuca-Moama, on the Murray River. Stop a couple of times for pit stops, and once for a sleep, remember you've flown through the night. Arrive at 2.15pm at the caravan park on the farthest edge of town. Feel a bit proud of yourself. Look at watch and realise you'd better skedaddle to the Murray River cos you have a date with a paddle steamer!

Step three: Drive 8 minutes into town and grab a parking spot in front of the paddleboat ticket office. Screech to a halt at 5 minutes before the departure time for the boat trip arranged by the conference organisers. Run in and make enquiries, curse at the news that they will be underway in 5 minutes and that the boat leaves from the farthest dock, then RUN as only a fat midwife with sore knees can. Jiggling boobs are optional. Panic slightly as you notice steam rising from the stack of your boat. Imagine all those midwives making merry without you. Make your way down the bank to the gangplank and puff out that you can't remember if you have prepaid the ticket or not. You'll be told, "no worries, there's no hurry on the Murray". Feel your mind clunk into a different gear. Ahh, thats better....

Step four. Find a comfy spot without the sun in your eyes. This may be harder than you think. Scour the boat for signs of other midwives, prepare to be friendly with them. Lay your preparations aside as you realise that there are 10 other people on the boat and not one of them is a midwife. Sigh. Oh well, one may as well look interested in the sights and sounds of a genuine paddle steamer.

If you are a Steam Punk you might be interested in seeing this (dammit, its sideways, sorry). It was similar to the workings of the Riverboat Natchez which I went on in 1991 on the Mississippi River, but that was a much bigger vessel. Still a SteamPunk's gotta dream, eh?

Step five: While away an hour or so steaming slowly up and down the river, noticing the height of the riverbanks and the wharf, and the high flood marks. There are birds, and fish, and other paddlesteamers to admire, and people to wave to on houseboats. Have a coffee on board and try not to fall asleep as the paddlewheel turns with a rythmical shushing sound. Return to port.

Step six: Drive around the town a bit more, find an Aldi (my first time in an Aldi store, it seemed a bit random to me, avoid gummi bears as I am trying to be good) and get some supplies for breakfasts. Realise you are running a bit late for the welcome function and drive back to the caravan park, have a lick and a promise wash, change clothes and drive across the border to another. whole. state (like you do it every day, except if you lived there you would, but it was kinda fun as a novelty.) Try not to woo-hoo as you do it, its lowers the cool quotient. Mental thrill notes are OK.

Step seven: Arrive pretty early for the function. Realise it has been at least 12 hours since you actually spoke to anyone apart from customer service folks. Gradually wander around looking for a familar face to break ones silence. Find a friendly looking face on a stranger, respond. It pays off. Phew.

Eat delicious food while juggling drinks. Talk some more. Realise you have hit the wall with fatigue and must drive responsibly to another state to find your bed. Do this. Curse while reading caravan park literature that promises electric blanket on bed, while finding no such appliance in residence. Lie in bed only in the small spot you have warmed. Sleep well, but feel too cold to accept turning over and warming another spot. Wake up with a sore hip. Freeze ass off while getting washed and dressed. Attend conference with excellent food and company and speakers.

Return to cabin to get changed for dinner and hunt up the park manager for an electric blanket. Make the bed again. Resist urge to leave the electric blanket on while away. Return to venue in upper left of map and have a great dinner, with excellent singers and entertainment, dancing and chatting. Return to cabin in farthest right corner of map and sleep much better in a cosy bed.

Step eight: Repeat much of previous day, and give thanks for the profession of midwifery. Talk with a woman who has a disabled child who is tube dependent if possible, as this will enrich your experience, and hopefully hers as well. Hear some more great speakers. Order books from a learned person far, far away. Say goodbye to colleagues, and have dinner with a few more. Return to cosy bed.

Step nine: Next morning, to round out your experience, you will drive to Melbourne the long way, phoning complete strangers and introducing yourself as a distant relative. Be welcomed to their homes, drink their tea and find your photo in their genealogy albums!!!! Take photos with them, and marvel at family ties. Learn new things, share info and scandals in turn. Drive a really long way to breathe the air of your grandfather's hometown and birthplace. Drive farm roads in the middle of nowhere to see your family's name on a street sign. Get stared down by curious sheep. Buy a souvenir postcard for your Mum. Buy yourself a piece of fabric from a craftshop in the town to include in a special quilt (if you plan to make one that year). Get a teensy bit lost, but marvel that south is south and all roads eventually lead to Melbourne.

Step ten: Drive straight to the airport carpark at exactly the right time to check in easily for your flight home. Sigh with contentment that you have had such a great day with 'relative strangers' and be happy that you made the effort to meet them. Fly home in a cramped plane. Be greeted by loving family and head home to your own bed.

There ya go - do you reckon you could manage it? Add in a dose of hubby with a very bad back in your absence, which persists. Add a dash of large son hopping in with a badly sprained ankle 24 hours after return that has required a trip to hospital, doctors, x-ray, CT scan, bed nursing, chairs in showers, and much medication and driving around, 4 shifts, 2 meetings, housework and washing and driving of hubby and son to all points. Garnish with despair and frustration at the state of midwifery led care in this state, and resolve to keep plugging away at changing the state of affairs. Finalise preparations for a major practise review I am undergoing that will help me in my ambitions to practise more autonomously as a midwife. Make phonecalls to all and sundry, and not enough people, all at the same time. Planning, planning, planning. Cook, cook, cook, read, read, read. Just to stop oneself going completely insane, pick up a quilt that you made 10 years ago and continue handquilting it. It will get finished one day. You're not dead yet.

Tomorrow I will go back to the radiology place for the fourth day this week!

I'm pooped! I'll be grateful to go back to nightshift this weekend!

Silver

2010-05-05T11:30:00.005+08:00

Exactly twenty five years ago I was having this photo taken.

Then I got into a car and went and did this.

Then this photo was taken.

Then this one.

Then this one. Regrets? Not many, in fact most of it I would do again. Some of it I would do better, sooner, and more frequently. It turned out I made a good choice. And so did he.

I am especially aware that some others are not so lucky. My sister should be sharing this 25th anniversary year with her beloved late husband, but as she reminded me today, he would certainly want us to celebrate, even though he can't be with us.

We plan a small dinner with family and friends on Saturday night. There will be an intimate dinner a deux at a favourite French restaurant tonight. There were gifts in bed this morning. I gave him a second wedding ring in silver and a book of quotes about love and marriage. I received a silver bracelet with a heart locket, and some silver set amethyst and pearl drop earrings in a reproduction style. We have our trip planned for June. By the end of this year I will be working on a quilt for our bed (if I put it in writing you'll all have to hold me to it, OK). I have selected the pattern based on the storm at sea block, but it will be titled something related to weathering the storms and seeing the silver lining.

We are very fortunate, and feel just a bit proud of ourselves too.

So, I suspect, this year, silver will be my new style. However....this will NOT be extended to hair colouring. Just to be clear on that....OK?

This and that, the update.

2010-04-19T10:28:00.005+08:00

Dear blogfriends, please forgive the subheadings, there's a lot to tell.

MIDWIFERY
I made arrangements for me to back up at some planned homebirths early this year. That period has now ended and the score is: Homebirths occurred 3, homebirths attended by me 1.5.

Yeah I know....bummer eh? I was ready, willing and waiting, sleeping with the phone by me and knew they were on. The first I managed to see all the way through as you saw in my previous post. It was stripped back and simple and lovely. The second went into labour overdue by a couple of weeks. The primary midwife attended and was in communication with me, I was ready to leave at a moment's notice, the house was 40 mins from my place. She laboured quietly apparently and was well attended by family. There was radio silence for a while, then an "uuummmm, she went from nothing to pushing and 2 pushes later....ta-da!" So great for her, a first-timer, to birth so well, I'm thrilled for them all, really. But......

The third was a second baby and the first had been really quick. Less than an hour quick! So I was poised to possibly be the first one there as I live closer to her. I am still doing my regular job as well, and we have been trusting to the universe that it will all work out. Phut! The universe clearly didn't get my memo about a late/early split shift last week followed by eight days off which were coinciding with the due date. So when the phone rang at 5.10am I thought it was the alarm gone off early.......Then slammed upright when I blurrily saw that it was the first midwife calling! OOoh, decisions, decisions - she was really quick with the first one, I've got time for her to pop it out and still get to work on time. I committed and dashed out. I got there at 5.27 and she was labouring, but still smiling. Things hotted up, then quietened down, as they do, but my start time was approaching.....I called in that I would be late, and mentally made up my mind that I would stay for now, but that if the birth wasn't imminent at 7.30 I would slip away and the other midwife would call a different midwife to back up. And so it went. Bummer. The baby was born at 9.13am. It would have been too much of a stretch to be that late for work.

So the experience I have gained is of providing antenatal and postnatal care in the community, and also intrapartum care in the woman's own home. I have witnessed one homebirth (my second). It was good. I can see the learning curve before me should I choose to continue to work in this field. I need to gather a lot more equipment. I could easily become used to doing less with women, as they take a lot more responsibility for their own issues than women I usually see through the hospital setting. There is less 'routine' assessment and more reliance on behavioural changes in labour. Spontaneous and physiological, just the way it should be. All the usual assessments are there, just less VEs and when they were done (by the primary MW) they were at points when I would have done them to clarify issues as well.

There is no shortage of work out there. With upcoming changes to maternity service provision by the federal government there are many opportunities for midwives to set up in group practices with Medicare provider numbers and limited prescribing rights, as long as they are deemed 'eligible' (a nebulous description, yet to be fully defined but being worked on furiously) and hold professional indemnity insurance, which will not cover them to birth anywhere but in a hospital. This has recently been released for a cost of $7500 per annum full time cover. Stay tuned! I do plan to become eligible - in fact if I was doing my PD instead of blogging it would happen sooner.

I have also been continuing to work with a group planning the commencement of a midwifery group practice in our hospital, hopefully by mid-year. It has to be signed off by roughly 47,000 people including doctors but I think we're up to 35, 766 signatures and the work is all downhill from here! This would be groundbreaking in this state, and I have seen my name on the sample rosters so it may come true! Can't wait.

HEALTH
Twice this year I have had my life flash before my eyes and prepared for my imminent death.

I wish I was kidding.

What I have learned from this is that my husband really needs a cell phone. So the kids CAN in theory contact him when he is in Sydney for a conference and Mum has died of a stroke. As it was I managed to get an appointment with the GP and get a presciption for antihypertensives just before it blew out any blood vessels in my brain, but I suspect it was close. It was extremely unpleasant. I then developed an attractive rash from the meds and changed them a week later. They remain effective.

The second time was when I was woken by upper abdo pain and thought I was going to throw up. I decamped to the loo whereupon I had an 'episode' of tingling, profuse sweating, pins and needles in my face and arms and extreme lightheadedness and a sense of impending doom. Visions of Elvis abounded and I was convinced I was about to have a heart attack. This was in the very early hours of the morning after our daughter's 21st party, so waking a still inebriated husband was quite challenging, as I swooned on the toilet and resorted to banging the glass screen repeatedly while moaning. After a while I managed to croak out his name loud enough and he stumbled out to find me. An ambulance was called and I was whisked off. It turned out to be a vaso-vagal event (they think) as my heart was fine and my blood pressure was elevated but not catastrophic. Phew. I felt sheepish, but would have felt worse if I hadn't paid attention to it. I have seen someone have a fatal coronary and I felt how they looked....so I did the best I could to get help. It lasted about 10-15 minutes (I think) but it was really scary, and I'm grateful it was something benign.

I have discovered that I am not ready to die.

BIRTHDAYS
My son turned 24. He is a sweetie and good company. Please God, let him pass this last semester at uni. He has a girlfriend. There is much 'noise' coming from his bedroom. There is often another mouth to feed. It is OK.

My daughter turned 21. We had the party we planned except for the fact that the pizza oven was too wide to fit through the gate (or the gate was too narrow for the oven to pass). We were flexible about this and luckily had a wide driveway and a paved frontyard that could be rapidly put to use as the pizzeria. A Good Time was had by all, pizza was made, cooked and consumed with gusto if not in the same square metreage of yard. Tromping through the house was expected anyway. The back patio was gorgeous and people mixed and mingled at the tables we set up. We did two big photoboards for her which were fantastic to do. She received some lovely gifts. People continue to wish her well. This is good.

STORM DAMAGE
The skylight is fixed. A Man came from 50km away to do it. The SES had arrived a few days after the storm and covered and secured it with thick black plastic for which we were grateful. The car remains dented. This PITA is likely to continue to be so for a while as I am too busy to submit a claim.

TRAVELS
WE are taking a family holiday in June to Sydney and Uluru. It will be great! 3 nights in Sydney doing tyouristy things, then a 3 day camping safari around Uluru, The Olgas and King's Canyon. The family will then leave from Alice Springs while I stay there for a national conference. Its all good.

SILVER
Somehow it seems I will have been married for 25 years on May 5th. To the same man. Lucky, eh? Preparations abound for a celebratory dinner. Followed by our trip a few weeks later.

PHOTOS may follow for all the above, but right now I have to go to work. Which was evacuated a few nights ago due to a fire. I wasn't working, but it looked like a nightmare! I'll hear all about it today.

Its all go around here!

Deja-vu

2010-03-22T22:05:00.004+08:00

In a re-run of the incredible hailstorm of July last year, today Perth experienced a phenomenal hailstorm with really large hailstones.

I heard solid plinking and plunking and thought someone was tampering with the roof. I went outside to find huge hailstones in the front yard, so I grabbed a camera and took some snaps.

Then it began to rain, and hail some more.....and then came the wind.

Good heavens. I've never seen anything like it!

The upshot of it is that our skylight was smashed and the ceiling panel took direct hits that punched through the plexiglass. There is power in the shaft for the light. Yikes. There were hailstones bouncing all over the kitchen floor and benchtops. When the second front passed the holey plexiglass fell out from the weight of rain falling directly into the kitchen. The rain is still falling. There are more storms predicted for tonight until tomorrow morning.

The shadecloth tore free from the mounting pole where it was triple stitched and has remained unmoved for 15 years, weighted down with at least 20kg of ice and tree debris. I couldn't lift it. I was worried the gutters and fascia boards would fall off under the weight. When Don got home, he lifted the bulky, sagging ice mass and we released one corner. It still hasn't fully melted.

Our car looks a little like a golf ball, with fine dents all over it, but luckily no windows smashed. Many people are a lot worse off, with serious flooding, and landslides, and no power to 150, 000 households. Poor devils. All the same I hope our house will be weatherproof again soon.

The temporary flooding in our yard has settled mostly. What with all the foliage stripped from the trees, it was like wading in very wide shallow heavily minted glass of icy punch. This is where we're having Steff's 21st party on the back patio on Saturday. We're renting a woodfired pizza oven and have 40+ people coming. The garden will be stripped and ice damaged, but . . . oh well. The forecast is fine and 27 degrees. We won't need a shadecloth at night, and I won't have time to repair it before then anyway.

Life's never dull!

Just birth

2010-03-05T17:42:00.004+08:00

A candle-lit night of struggle, with nothing but grit and determination and loving support.

Just after dawn, as little ones stirred and sat cuddled on laps, a new family member was born in their own family room.

No bells, no whistles, quite ordinary, yet profound and timeless in its simplicity. A testament to the strength of woman.

Welcome to the world baby boy.

Hearing the call

2010-02-24T12:14:00.005+08:00

Did I ever tell you how it was that I became a midwife?

photo from National Geographic August 1999

I had always been interested in birth. I watched my cats give birth to their kittens. I noticed pregnant bellies. I avidly watched nature films with birthing. As a high school student I saw a birth film in year 10 and clearly recall the crowning, and seeing a small tear occur, but knowing that I was seeing something sacred, and mysterious, and rarely seen.

When I had my first child I didn't understand what a midwife was. I have recently reconnected with the midwife who attended that birth, and my son turned 24 last week and we reminisced together. With my second child I had a friend who was a midwife and I read some of her books and came to better understand the role of the midwife.

As you know, that second child led me to a whole new world of discovery. I began to attend women's weekends for mothers of children with disabilities and special needs, where I was introduced to journal processing. This has been a tool to having a life, an inner life, all of my own. It is where I learned to love the questions in my life, rather than feeling I had to have all the answers.

On November 3rd 2001 I did a session where we looked at the personas we held within. The idea was to have a dialogue with one of these inner selves and uncover truths.

Now, a caveat here. Journalling is a very private experience. I have always been taught that it is never to be shared except with ones own voice. It is a private thing that can be shared with others, or done in a group, and the opportunity exists to share through reading. Listening deepens the experience, we often find resonance in other's words. Hearing oneself saying the words that have come out the end of your own pen is confronting, and affirming, and scary sometimes. It deepens the understanding, beyond just having written the words. It is a message from your soul. It is often moving beyond all measure. I have had some of the most profound experiences in my life in a journal room. Journal is secret and respected and a safe place.

So ... This is my blog. This is my erstwhile voice. And I choose to share with you some of this session, and I trust you with this sharing.

******************************************************
My Secret Selves

My list: the dancer, the midwife, the counsellor, the clear thinker, the love force of the Universe

Come out, come out, whomever you are

Here I am, coming as you have called, inside you, waiting for my time to begin, talk with me, come to know me, name me, put me up as a goal in your life, DO something to reach me.

Who are you? What is your calling? Will I like you? Will the path to reach you be long and hard? Will I have to make the journey alone?

I cannot answer that question. Any path is hard. Nothing will fall in your lap. But if you want to hold the shape of a ripe belly beneath your hands you will have to give up some things. To be a midwife will be 4 years of dedication. Set a date. start towards me, you know you want to. The coursework is not beyond you.

You were born to use your hands in this way. The power of birth, the hovering of life yet unbreathed is calling you. You talk of wanting a job which encompasses all your unique set of skills...this could be the thing. It is the sensuousness of the dance, the skills and knowledge of midwifery, the feminism, the ear and shoulder and warmth of counselling, the celebrator of life and the deliverer of fully formed perfection wrapped in death. The midwife births not only joy, but sometimes sorrow and you are well equipped to accept that challenge with grace and wisdom. Be an empowerer of women, deliver them to joy and peace, treasure their bodies and their new life, nurture the family, comfort and share with them.
******************************************************

Does that sound like the universe giving a wake-up call? Yeah. I thought so.

A few weeks later I told Don, and his first words were "you'd make a bloody good midwife". And the rest is history.

I love being a midwife.

Be prepared

2010-02-19T16:32:00.000+08:00

I will return soon, with a flashback.

waving in my sleep....

2010-01-18T10:04:00.002+08:00

Remember me?

I barely do.

I've been on nights for 3 weeks, finishing with a run of four nights, which were all BIG nights.

Now I have 27 hrs til I start 4 day shifts .... no time for blogging ..... so apologies for the unexpected blogbreak. I'm off to bed now.

I promise I'll be back, OK?

A few baubles for you

2009-12-22T21:39:00.007+08:00

So.... its nearly Xmas. Had you noticed?
I'm getting in the mood now. The tree is decorated.
The pressies are chosen, wrapped and under the tree

The MRI is all clear. The dizzies are mostly gone. The medication is working.

I am wearing Xmas earrings and a tinsel halo to work most days. Its fun. Work has been lovely. Interesting and brave Mums. Sweet babies. I've even had two thankyou cards and chocolates this week! That never happens! One was from the family I met before my holidays. The other twin is doing well.

Why do funeral companies have cookie cutter services with patronising overstated sentiment? Am I a bitch for asking? I attended the funeral of our colleague who died. It was about as wretched as expected, there were so many people there. Naturally there was a very notable turnout from work, nearly all the ward were there, and half the rest of the hospital. Her Dad spoke, heartbreakingly, followed by her sister, stoic and loving. They were a markedly smaller group as a family of 3, compared to the family of 5 they had been only 13 months ago. There is no easy or un-trite way to say goodbye in these circumstances. It all just sucks.

Is there such a thing as turning up to heaven uninvited? I'm sure she would be welcomed anyway, she was a kind girl who earned her wings in many ways. Her death, and the circumstances of her death have been very confronting. Once again we are starkly reminded, depression is a serious illness. How desperately 'not-thinking-straight' must she have been to make that choice. Such a waste.

I haven't been so active around this blog of late, but it doesn't mean I'm not thinking of you. Swings and roundabouts. Most bloggers I read report slow patches, and I am fascinated to realise that I have been blogging, and blog-reading, for more than 2 years now.

In case I don't get to post again pre-Big Day may I wish you all a very happy Christmas season.

A toast: To old friends who have weathered the years, and to new friends who were strangers but yesterday. Merry Christmas.

I just know that 2010 will bring good things.

Holiday activities

2009-12-16T10:02:00.003+08:00

Spend four nights with favourite husband in a cosy and private beach-side getaway. Tick.

Spend a day of getaway baking beloved Christmas cakes. Best. Batch. Ever. Tick.

Play Bingo with hubby. Tick. I still don't win.

Tackle Xmas pressie shopping with a relaxed hubby by my side. Tick.

Get bathroom door and dining room wall painted 6 months after bathroom renovation. Tick.

Attend Xmas parties in blistering heat. Tick.

Host Xmas party in blistering heat, wondering why people say they are coming but don't. Tick.

Eat leftovers. Tick.

Read on FB that a young depressed work colleague has died tragically. At work, with colleagues finding her. Reel in shock. Make many phonecalls to distraught colleagues. Grieve the loss of a lovely young midwife. Sadly, tick.

Value life even more preciously and vows to love and support even more. You betcha.

What do I know?

2009-12-05T23:09:00.004+08:00

How many times does a human heart beat in a lifetime?

Today I found myself in the position to count them. Almost literally.

One little sweetheart lived his brief life in my care today.

I know Miracles exist. I thought he had slipped away, after twenty incredible minutes. But his little heart beat on feebly and slowly, for another hour or so of bonus life. Cradled by his brave Mum and Dad, skin to skin with his mother in life, with his father later, in death.

It was one of the most beautiful, incredible days of my life as a midwife. From taking the phonecall, to receiving the couple. From listening in and finding two heartbeats, to seeing one falter. From phonecall to the ward they were in my care, as well as the care of superb specialists . Together, the work we did today was a work of art. An oasis of beauty in a forecast that was never going to be good.

Today, for one day only, I was their midwife.

What a privilege.

Once again, I know, I love being a midwife.

Not drowning, waving (again)

2009-11-20T09:23:00.005+08:00

Did I say not drowning? Well.... its probably accurate.

I have been watching too much TV, playing way too much Bejewelled on FB, attending work back on the postnatal/antenatal ward and had a random night shift thrown in to the middle of a dayshift fortnight (I know) which has completely thrown my body clock for a loop and I lost close to 2 days in sleep disturbance. Sigh. I'm back on days this weekend for 4 days but then I have a week of rostered days off, before working for 4 days then having 15 days on hols before Xmas. Woot! I love to be back on the ward with all the darling staff members I was mentored by when I was a student. I am also working with my own mentee, which is a lovely change as our rotations have not coincided frequently at all and it is good to see her functioning clinically, even though our relationship flourishes mostly outside the workplace. She is so bright and buzzy, a real individual.

The workload is as full-on as usual, challenging physically and emotionally as well as an organisational challenge. To top it off the ward has been renovated since I was last there, so nothing is where I expect it to be. I am being a big girl and sucking it up. I'm just very lucky, I repeat to myself. But it does make me think of how different things might be in a year's time, in a different style of care. I am scared. But I am determined. Why does it matter to me what people think? I have good reasons for taking the path less travelled, and everyone I have mentioned it to seems to think it is an excellent move, but I suppose I must suck it and see. It may not be for me. I will be quite happy being a plain midwife out there, but how big will my envelope be? How far will I push it? There will be stuff I can only learn out there. I am not fearless, but nor am I fearful. I have a very healthy respect for the process, and the risks. I must keep my clinical judgement about me and distinguish between space for evolution and recklessness. There's a lot going on in my brain. But in the end - Megan says it well here.

I also saw New Moon on Thursday morning bright and early - its not bad, I found it very absorbing and the performances were much better this time, with less of the trembly, changing half-formed mouth movements from Kirsten Stewart that gave me the pip the first time around. She really is much better this time around, more natural. Its certainly one for the fans, but it ends a bit suddenly! There is almost the case for editing books two and three together to shift the action along, but it was still satisfying and beautifully done. The three leads were less wooden +/- overacting. The Jacob character was good and well performed. There were funny bits. The Edward character was much better made up although for a perpetual 17 y.o. someone carved from marble-like perfection he somehow looks haggard and older and a lot more manly, which was very appealing. Am I an Edward or a Jacob girl? Hmm, I think I prefer manly, but a bit of exuberant animal buff is good. The rest of the Cullen clan could have done their shots in less than a week, apart from Alice. Thinking back, they are mostly only shown in asembled set shots, with little dialogue. All in all 8/10.

Today I have a lunch with fellow midwives before the long awaited head MRI to see if there is any sinister reason for the dizzies - we suspect not, but lets rule it out. The medication is really helping and they are 90-95% gone. Edited to add - I'd forgotten how LOUD those MRIs are! Even with earphones it was like having my head trapped inside the DJ desk at a really bad alien robot techno rave, with error messages going off. Geez! 20 minutes of it!

The Big Picture tour by a Canberra ACM staff member, Abby, is going really well. She is such a dynamic presenter, and has been really flexible and super-organised and great fun as well. It is half over now, and this time next week will be all over, but it was well worth the effort. We had lunch yesterday, and she is tired but happy so far, and on days off now down south with her family. I look forward to next week.

So, I wish I had some new craft to show you, but I don't. I c.b.a. (can't be arsed) getting the camera from the other room to even show you a pic of the gorgeous Abby from Canberra. I have no excuses, I just know that if I left the computer now something bright and shiny and completely unecessarily random would catch my eye and it would be 3 o'clock before I remembered the unpublished post on the computer....so, really, we'd better play it safe and hit publish now. Yes, really.

Bag lady

2009-11-09T09:46:00.009+08:00

Well, the Stuff continues to loom, but I had a rare weekend+ off so it felt right to do some craft.

On Friday I took myself over to Lesley's place and sat companionably with her as she pottered and planned another papercut, and I got stuck in to assembling a bag I had cut out last week. It is from a pattern by Kathy at Pink Chalk Studio, called the Mail Sack.

The base is a wool/silk mix that I got in an op shop somewhere for about $1, and the top part is a vibrant purple linen from a recycled skirt. It is designed to sit scross the body. Whaddya think? I tried to get photos of it on me, but sigh, no. Trust me, I'm sparing you. I haven't decided yet where it will go. It may go in 'the shop'. Or it may be a pressie. I had so many buttons to choose from for the flower, but Steff liked this quirky cow button, so we went with that.

On Saturday hubby and I headed to the city for an impromptu grown-up getaway. I feel like I haven't seen him for a month! It was lovely, away from the phones and the emails and the Stuff.

We went out for dinner (Globe, at the Hilton, mostly wonderful, and the good bits were Incredibly Good) and breakfast (King St Cafe, really good) and had a wander around this developing part of the city and just enjoyed ourselves in general. Comfy room, soft sheets. Exactly what we needed.

On Sunday when we returned I felt like tackling a smallish craft project, that I asked Les about on Friday. She had re-lined a bag that was shabby, or yukky, and I had a lovely bag that had frayed lining. See? It is as an Olga Berg that I bought about 3 years ago, but the original lining was shabby. So I gutted it. The pink bit here is the external zipped pocketliner that was not frayed.

Then, using the old lining as a guide I cut a new liner with a pocket, and reused the zipper for a new pocket, and reused the darted pocket opposite.

Then I hand stitched the new lining in place.
Et voila! One refurbished bag!
I have one more day off now, which is filling up quick, so I'd better fly!

Waving

2009-11-03T08:43:00.005+08:00

HI!! Can you see me waving? I am.

Hello November! Where did you come from? I blinked and you arrived, while I was working and organising and conferencing and feeling crappy and stressed and finishing night shift. And getting bad feelings about anonymous comments. Sigh.

Sometimes a blog just feels like another thing to feel guilty about. So I put the blog in the too hard basket. Just for a couple of weeks.

To make myself feel better I am crafting (or half-assed-crafting). I am cutting out. I have sewn some stuff. Half-finished things. Frogdancer and Victoria your pressies are nearly ready to go. I have a pretty fab red giant tote half assembled.

Blogs are being read. Otherwise they would Pile Up and add to my load of Stuff Un-done.

I have folded an enormous pile of clean washing. Six baskets full.

I have cleaned off my desk. Gasp. Its true, Lesley has seen it!

I have Made Plans. Midwifery plans. Hah! I am both inspired and a bit terrified by this. Therefore it must be good.

I am working (what seems like) a lot. Probably seems like it because I have so much to do on the days 'off'. Like conferences. Like organising a two week statewide tour for a lovely and important guest, although I am getting lots more help with that now, phew.

I have favourite people coming to WA (ooh, they've just landed), and a favourite niece having a party tonight for her birthday and I am working :( but I will have the next two weekends off and see them all then.

On the upside- a friend has started an unexpected new romance that is thrilling and wonderful and that she thoroughly deserves. And my daughter has found a JOB! It is 95% fabulous, with small forecasts of glass-half-empty, depending on your point of view. We're pretty delighted, but it also involves the doing of Stuff. Which I add to my Do In My Spare Time list. You know the one.

I am feeling about 50% better in the swoon department, although I have to go back on a medication I hoped to not take. It seems this is a new manifestation of migraine. Cos two sorts are barely enough. Bummer. On the upside it means I am sleeping better / heavily. Take THAT night shift diurnal rythm messer uperer.

I'll stop whining now. I'm sick of myself.

Back with REAL blogging soon, I promise. But that was a small catchup of why I've been offline.

You'll never get those minutes of your life back, so no asking for a refund, alright?

Night shift news

2009-10-15T09:19:00.004+08:00

Hello world. Phew. Night shift and labrynthitis are a bad combination.

It was getting better until sleep disturbance and nausea kicked in, or they kicked each other in....or, oh heck who knows? Anyway I'm on the second of 3 days off, before I lose 5 days of my life with 4 nightshifts over the weekend. Sigh.

I did three shifts with two nights early this week. Good shifts, if slightly mad. Really busy on Monday night. Dementedly so, poor coordinator was tearing her hair out. I happened to be in the rooms in her eyeline so every time I walked past I would get another little job to do. "quick - 29 weeker coming in, wants to push, you're it!" The woman arrives, screeches to a halt in a room with a big resus unit hastily assembled in a just cleaned room, not very distressed or labouring particularly, a little pain arrives, doesn't palp too strongly, yes waters have broken...or have they? The story is convincing with a witness. Ooh, baby's coming! she wails. Can I check? May I begin? Cervix long and closed and tucked away behind baby's head, just where it belongs. Excellent. Good news! You're not going to have your baby in the next hour. Lets take you back around to the assessment unit, where you can get sorted and admitted. Its too late for a fetal fibronectin test (which will indicate if she's likely to labour in the next week) as I have examined her, but it turns out she is known to staff as a 'frequent flyer' with every little thing and vague twinge. Ambulance guys have to take things on face value and bring em in, and if things were as presented we were ready to deal with it. As it was the floor of that room could now continue to dry undisturbed.

I had been sent to theatre on arrival for a breech CS. Lovely couple, sweet baby, wet and steaming to her chest, alert and responsive. Great photos, happy relatives. I was happily present when the grandparents learned the sex of their newborn first grandchild and saw him, travelling with us to the ward. Joy all around. Told her about a clinic at our hospital for women experiencing second birth after CS, so she could start planning her next birth. Back to LBS and had a cuppa.

Technically had 2 women at this point, being induced. Gave antibiotics to one of them. The other one was snoring. Got given another woman, a multip in early labour at 4cm, contracting irregularly...but who knows, sometimes multiparous women only need half an hour of good contractions before they produce the goods. Settled her into a room on my corridor (yeah, I had a whole one to myself by this time) and went in search of a listening lead for my CTG. Bloody hell, none to be found. Grabbed a handheld Doptone and made use of that instead. Major language barrier, my Mandarin is not that hot, but we established a pleasant simple rapport as I listened in and then made tea for her and her mother. I left her to it and popped in each half hour. She went off the boil, well....was never really simmering in my time with her anyway. She went on to birth at 11-ish in the morning.

In the meantime I was still dogsbodying my way through the night, attending an imminent birth of a 7th child, there was thick meconium so I called a paed for the birth and prepared the cot in case he didn't make it in time. The fetal heartrate dropped dramatically, and the baby was not coming despite vigorous pushing from the experienced mum. Sunny-side up, we all said, but the heartrate was getting really low. We'd called a few docs when the FH dropped and they quickly attached a simple suction device and helped baby out, covered in mec. He was floppy and flat as a tack, but we didn't stimulate him immediately, as the paed needed to suck out his airway so he didn't breathe mec into his lungs. HR was 40 while we poised ourselves ready to commence chest compressions, right, GO! A minute of compressions and oxygen saw his heartrate improve but he was still completely non-responsive and floppy, I ducked out to grab an oximeter from the room next door (where the 29 weeker didn't deliver) and when I came back baby was squawking and starfishing and protesting at his awakening. Poor little mite, it was all a bit sudden, but he was down and on the way out, and as much as I promote gentle birth, I was quite glad to see him yelling. I stayed there for another half hour, to get him settled and cuddled up and fed, and documenting the resus, then returned to my odd jobs. I was most grateful to get a dinner break, then I received another semi-labouring second-timer who had a quick birth last time. She too was not quite ready to labour, but I made her comfortable, hubby re-parked the car (during which time she didn't have a single contraction) and she went on to birth at 5.30 later that day. I handed over 3 women to 3 different midwives and staggered home, literally walking home half asleep.

The next night I was allocated to first-timer who had been stuck at 2 cm, on stacks of synto. Everyone assumed she was for the chop, but my student and I breezed in with positive attitudes and explained about cervical effacement and assured her that the cervix was ready to get on with it now and start dilating. And it came true! Her epidural had been working really well, and continued to do so. The trace had been really good, and was mostly good still, it just had a pattern of decelerations one sees with head compression, followed by a period of sleep where the trace looks quiet. We worked our butts off in that room, keeping the trace well monitored, adjusting the receivers, keeping the epidural well topped up, fending off doctors who kept showing up and scaring the woman, talking about 'heart rate dips, can only do it for so long, then they get tired' wanting to do fetal scalp samples, but every time that dear little baby showed a fabulous acceleration when it was needed and warded off intervention. In the end she was born easily and quite beautifully, despite the doctors inviting themselves into the room and standing at the end of the bed and itching to get their hands in there, and asking if we had episiotomy scissors. We held them off, almost literally, and the little one emerged via the student and I to her stunned and thrilled Mum and grandma, after a mammoth effort. The doctors disappeared like magic, and the student and I dealt with a snapped cord and got the placenta out without them, whole and intact, although we did invite the doctors back to do some straightforward suturing and assist with management of a slow PPH, which had been anticipated after that much synto. There was no CS. There was no transfer to theatre for placenta removal, there was a beautiful healthy 3.7kg baby and her Mum staying in the same room, where they had stoically borne their labour together. It was a great result really.

I was sad that the docs felt they had a right to come in uninvited and stand at the end of the bed, scolding her at her to 'push into your bottom' (as if any of them had ever done it themselves). If we hadn't been there they would have held her vagina open so they could see the descent and crowning better! I feel sad that they so rarely see the way a midwife conducts a birth, with gentle encouragement and positive language. We see their way of work frequently, and frankly it can be pretty brutal sometimes. It is noteworthy when its not. Sometimes it seems that they know no other way but fear and mistrust of birth, and litigation, and invading the privacy of the moment in their relentless quest for accountability. We will call them in if we need them. We do, honestly. Just like we did for the little one with thick mec and the really declining heart rate. I like having docs there to expand the skill level if need be. They are our back-up. We work together. I don't mean to doctor-bash. This is more a doctor-whinge maybe. But when they come in uninvited I can sometimes hear myself sounding a bit terse as I respond to their appearance, at which time I politely and pointedly introduce them to the woman and her family as if they had entered the woman's home, which in effect, the birthing space is, or should be. I try to believe that they KNOW this is the case, but somehow they don't behave that way. I'm sure they think I'm a grumpy cow towards them some days. Thats to the ones that aren't arrogant. When they are being mentored by the insufferably arrogant, they are just asking for terseness.

But I can guarantee them this. If, and when, any of them are in my care when they are labouring and birthing I will protect their rights to privacy and advocate just as strongly on their behalf as I do for any woman I care for. And I will use my clinical judgement to call for back-up when the situation warrants it.

Because I love being a midwife.

In a spin

2009-10-09T08:57:00.005+08:00

Thankyou for all your best wishes on the blogiversary and the MIPP thing.

I am putting some plans in place to gain some experience in a different style of midwifery. I have some role models, some contacts. Approaches have been made.

I have been a bit flat out: with work, illness, resting (snort), planning and organising for a major event on November, overseeing my daughter in a work experience placement and the transport training for that. I've been reading a bit (Russell Brand - My booky-wook- fascinating 8/10, and the new Dan Brown ' The Lost Symbol' - formulaic 6/10). Trying to stay relaxed. Taking the tablets. Can I just say that labrynthitis sucks. Big time. I like having my head and my world steady. Without drugs. Its most weird. But at least I know that I don't have a brain tumour, or was not having a stroke at that time. Despite very raised blood pressure for a short time (its absolutely fine now). That's a good thing. Phew. Sigh. Did you notice some of the mutually exclusive things on the above list?

And don't talk to me about mobile phones that go all independent of thought. Mine keeps turning itself off. Just without warning. Its most inconvenient, when there is so much to do.

Its been a strange week.

Finally, Frogdancer and Victoria - there are presents on the way to you both by the end of the month. That's as good a deadline as I can deal with at the moment.

Right, work have called, they are short of an idiot / midwife, and my number came up. So much for extended days off.

See ya.

Happy October

2009-10-01T13:27:00.005+08:00

Its the first day of October. How did that happen?

I have two announcements.

First - I missed my blogiversary on September 28th. Gasp! Very few of you would remember this, my first post, two years ago. But looking back at the posts from the end of 2007 they are not too appalling, probably better then the whiny dross I have dished up lately, but with less Wild Women.

This (above) is Marina, she lives with Kelly now. Below is Jaune, who lives with my sister Helen. In response to a question....Jaune is legless, as is Marina if one looks carefully. Thanks Kelly for looking carefully.

If I were better organised I would have a draw or something, with a prize. But as I haven't yet sent the de-stash prize won by Victoria in February- because I never actually DID the de-stash and therefore never identified the said goods- I feel bad, because you couldn't be said to be at the head of the queue. Yes that's right, it means I am still sitting in the same craft room mess (the very same) as I was in February. Was that TMI? Deal with it.

Anyway, I'm sure I could be persuaded to have fun with a creation of a random small gift for a commenter, and whatever it is I will send an identical-ish item to you, Victoria. One that won't clutter up your 'packing to move house' dilemma. Making small items is a pleasure, and is the only way I get to craft much these days.

So, it seems this IS now a giveaway situation (can you see this evolving before your eyes? Yeah, me too) with the leaving of a comment as the entry point.

In other news, as of today I am registered as a midwife in private practice.

I have no clients, have not advertised, and no particular plans, but have assembled some equipment so I can do antenatal and postnatal visits only at this stage, and I'll take it from there. It was out of a sense of solidarity with private midwives that the govt was threatening to outlaw homebirths and claiming it only affects about 200 midwives. Dammit! How dare they remove women's choices like that and ignore the wishes of women to choose homebirth with a known midwife, I thought, I'll make it 201 and stand with them........and besides, it never hurts to ruffle a few feathers. I know the Australian College of Midwives is working very hard behind the scenes to turn this situation around. I truly believe this battle will be won in the medium term. The evidence is just too strong. So . . . I filled in a form to notify the WA Health Department of my intention to practise as a midwife in private practice as of this date. and. sent. it. off. Many others have done similarly with less experience. I have people to guide me. I have trust in my knowledge and women's bodies. Antenatal and postnatal I can do. Its a start.

Gulp.

Whattup?

2009-09-30T15:52:00.008+08:00

Hello? Anyone still there? (sounds of crickets chirping)

I have had some more plane related mishaps and hiccups. As a consequence I have had only one day at home in the last 9 days...yeah, yeah, excuses excuses, and a to-do list a mile long. .. in the next 2 days before I work for 5 further days. I really do have a lot to tell you. But typing time. . .. . is short. I met Kelly and her family and had a delicious dinner (see her account of it here). I attended 4 full days of information about national registration, MidPLUS, Midwifery Practice Review, MBS and PBS, and other practical midwifery stuff. I talked, I schmoozed, I ATE, I shopped, I danced, I laughed and cried. It was really super. Photos WILL follow, I promise.

Check out this you-tube clip for an upcoming video....it looks really interesting. I saw it on Public Health Doula, a little blog I have just started subscribing to. Its about how the media shapes one's view of birth, but this film shows the real deal. The real site it's from is here. It seems you can order a DVD.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9Gd7pqeESE&feature=player_embedded

See if you can guess my favourite birth moment in the clip. I'd love to hear which snippet strikes you. (ooh, you commenters are good! You have picked two of my three faves, go for gold now and complete the trifecta)

And....Tomorrow is a special day. That's all I'm saying.

Gotta fly!

2009-09-20T16:21:00.002+08:00

HI gang

Sorry for the absence....Its been a madhouse in my house!

I am quickly checking in to say 'see ya!' I'm off to Adelaide for a conference, and I get to meet Kelly of Taurus Rising, who has kindly offered to pick me up and feed me dinner. Bless her heart. I don't know anyone else in Adelaide so it will be lovely to be met and oriented somewhat by a local.

Thereafter, from early Tuesday morning I will be bombarded with Stuff About Midwifery. I can't wait (no, honestly, I AM looking forward to it). There'll be a big bunch of us, so we'll have a bit of a laugh as well, but I will be boggled in the mind department by the time I leave.

Somehow I have got a few days off from work, but I've worked all this weekend, with the same woman, and the same student midwife. Its been really great. This woman had so many special needs with her complex medical care, and had been so brave despite panicky patches that we just had to see her through, so at 3.24pm this afternoon we witnessed her baby girl FINALLY emerge into the world via the surgeons. It was such a slog for her, and the baby was so sweet, and pink and pretty. The family waiting outside theatre were thrilled to bits. It almost made me cry. Almost.

I am in a mad state, haven't started packing yet, but washing is done (phew), presents to get ready, a few things at the shops, hubby wants to see a movie this evening, so I had better get off the computer and pull my finger out and get. it. all. done.

See you in a week.

A week in dot points

2009-09-13T16:16:00.002+08:00

If you're looking for something midwife-y and moving today...sorry...I don't have much However.....I've seen some yummy babies born.
Father's day was really lovely at both ends, with young Dads greeting their first-borns, along with both Grandads in the labour room until it got intense i.e. time for pushing...then I cheerfully turfed them out to the waiting room with a hearty "Its time to go guys, next time I see you it will be with congratulations!" They were quite happy to go, while the young Dad jigged with excitement by the woman's side. He was soooooo happy to be meeting his son, and his 19y.o. partner did a lovely job of pushing the baby out. Both so accepting of the role ahead, breastfeeding promptly, then taking the baby out to meet his two grandfathers on Father's Day. Really sweet.
Night shift. The work is good, the staff are great, the workload ridiculous at times, with barely a lull in proceedings, (trying not to) rush from room to room, turning on the charm again and again to butter up a new room of folk, just waiting, waiting, trying not to make any promises one can't keep. Coping with emergencies. Hooley dooley, we had one really big one last weekend, there were just two midwives present and my colleague saved a woman's life, literally, with bimanual compression. She kept it up while I called in for help again after the initial stuff had seemed to work, then I lifted her onto the bed so it sould continue all the way to theatre. It was mind-boggling, but she survived. Its never dull in our place, but a bit more peace would be very welcome.
At home, my daughter has now spent her second week home alone since her workplace closed unexpectedly. BUGGER! She had made such a lovely start and was really gaining confidence, now she is job-hunting again, back to filling in heaps of forms and getting to know a new bunch, and they her. Sigh. And she needs company alot so I am unable to get any time alone to craft etc. Sigh. It gives me cabin fever, but she suffers it too, especially when I am sleeping on night shift. Double sigh.
My hubby has been unwell with a bad elbow joint, septic bursitis they are calling it. He was admitted to hospital for IV antibiotics yesterday and is now home, although the area of redness and swelling is re-growing (i think) since he came home. He still feels quite unwell, but as he hates hospitals with a passion he was very keen to be discharged. He unfortunately won't let me fuss over him too much, much as I want to. I hope he doesn't have to be re-admitted, cos that might mean surgery.
While he was in hospital I got to visit a friend who has been in for a fortnight and I have barely been able to see her due to nightshift. She needs a bit of TLC, and I feel bad not being available to provide it except by text.
While Don was being ferried back and forth and admitted etc, I took Steff to swimming, and then attended a fundraiser I had committed to helping with a month or more ago. My mind was not quite with it, I must confess.
And then we (Steff and I) went out to my sister's for dinner. We had a roast which was very yummy, and Steff had made a dessert while Don was being diagnosed. My brother-in-law was disappointed to be missing his drinking buddy. I came home just after 9.30 and couldn't settle and went to bed way too late, sleeping heavily in the end alone in the bed.
Don is home now, and still not terrific, but on oral antibiotics, and sleeping currently. We have made cake to feed to visitors who will NOT find him in hospital and will drop in at home. He most determinedly spent the day prowling around his garden, revelling in the sunshine, and now he is knackered. I'm off to take his temperature and be his nurse and give him drugs.
Its been a strange weekend, after a lost week on nightshift.
Sorry about that. You can fill in the blanks....

Correspondent's report

2009-09-09T15:46:00.006+08:00

Hi Laura,

Time is flying past. Tom-Tom now 2.5yo. Still cute, fun and full of energy. He's talking very well now.

I hope these don't take too long to download for you.
cheers

love Jo

***********************************************************************************

OOOHHHHHH JO!

Thankyou so much, I actually ACHED with longing when I saw that child in the photos and now I'm in tears cos I miss him (and you, my darling) so much.

I want to get on a plane right now and bring you all HERE!!!!!

Why don't you live next door? Why has my sister moved back to Perth so I don't go through Melbourne or nearby lately!!!!!! Dammit!
I am heading to Adelaide on Sept 21st for the conference, and wish you were coming too. Rats.

We truly need to live closer together so I can smooch your lovely children. (throbs with longing for those gorgeous kids....) Tom is unbearably beautiful, I bet he is such fun chattering away and dragging cats around. The photos of him with Darwin are gorgeous, and Georgie is looking like a mini-you. I'm sure Andy was just moving too fast to be captured on film! I just can barely believe how much I love that Tom-Tom, and am especially thrilled to be the first to have seen his sweet face. This midwifery deal is a pretty special gig.

I have just surfaced today after a stint of night shift so will rejoin the land of the living...the work on LBS at night is very absorbing but can be torrid at times, last night was one of those, just pulled from room to room with IOL left right and centre, and the previous night's ones still lingering and only just producing the goods 24 hrs later, or failing and having CS. I had a nice baby at 5.53am by vacuum, compound presentation which meant the Mum's epidural wasn't as effective while she was pushing - you know how they really hurt that extra bit with a hand as well. OUCH. The Mum was so loving and gorgeous to her baby as soon as she was out, it was beautiful to see. Three minutes later, at 0600 was a birth (with another midwife) to a multip who I had cared for initially that night before being moved, and as I left at 7.40am I stopped by theatre to see another primip who had not gone into labour after a tough 24 hours of trying, and was about to meet her babe by CS. I had been caring for her as well last night, and she headed off to OT just as I was in the thick of things for the vacuum, so another midwife took her up. Its all go I tell ya!

Has it really been 9 months since you moved in? Time flies! Any further midwifery work for you? What else you been up to?- as if those gorgeous monkeys aren't enough to keep you fully occupied.

Anyway...I will call you soon,

Thanks again so much for sending those pics (get Georgie to take one of you too!)

Much love, dear friend, I really miss you

Laura x x x x x

Recycled homes

2009-09-04T13:11:00.002+08:00

This is a fabulous article and slideshow.

I saw it and pinched it from Rixa.

http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2009/09/02/garden/20090903-recycled-slideshow_index.html

The homes he builds are just stunning! They would make me consider moving.

Laying low

2009-09-04T00:10:00.002+08:00

I am here, alive, just on night shift, and quite absorbed in the other doings of life.

Thankyou all so much for your kind words about my memories of my Dad. He was quite a man. I have enjoyed seeing that photo on my blog.

I am reading everyone else's blogs, dropping comments here and there, I just haven't had much chance to post as I am sharing the computer with the boy wonder currently as well. There's fierce competition.

What else have I been up to?

I have had a sister turn 40.

We have lost a dear cousin to lung cancer after a brief illness. As this branch of the family are Tassie there have been many phonecalls, and flowers sent, and notices lodged. It is not fair to lose such a lively witty man, who had such depths that he hid so readily. He follows his late son, his only child who died in a car crash about 15 years ago. He was loved by many.

Stephanie has finished work for now, as her site closed unexpectedly with short notice. She is now going to pursue open employment (gulp) as the alternative supported placements are probably not for her, sadly. We're all putting a brave face on it but it is disappointing after she was settling in so well and experiencing some success. The new phase involves MANY appointments, not always easy to fit in with shift work, or her Dad's work commitments.

I have worked 20 hours, and been flat tack with some very messy and tricky cases. Had a birth just in the nick of time 7 minutes before knock off yesterday morning, that kept me busy for a further hour or more. This was after a pretty torrid night, but we were grateful to see this baby and end his Mum's suffering ... she really suffered, quite unusually given the numbers of measures in place for her comfort, but it happens sometimes. Her little one really needed to be out for complicated reasons and finally he emerged in a fragile state, into the arms of paeds who resuscitated him very well and he is doing OK in the nursery where he can finish growing without relying on an abrupting placenta!

And today a new baby was born into the Tassie family, another grandchild to dear cousin Susan and her husband Richard, after the loss of her elder brother last week. They will welcome two more grandchildren by Xmas, one from each of their surviving 3 children. They too lost an adult daughter in a separate motorbike accident over a decade ago. They are stoic and brave, but I know they all miss seeing her become a parent along with her siblings.

Welcome to the world Abel Craig, named after your Mum's cousin. Babies are such a treasure.

And finally in the midst of it all I have been quite obsessed with playing Bejewelled Blitz on Facebook. It is VERY BAD. And VERY ADDICTIVE. The chink-chinking sound of the jewels clicking into place sends me into a trance and I spend waaaaay too much time developing RSI in my tapping-the-mousepad finger..... I am fairly disciplined with it, and set myself a time limit but I have been known to exceed it. I'm doing fairly well though....

Today I have been a housefrau staying in to see the refrigerator repair man...who informs me that I need a new fridge. When I think about it the old one is 21 years old! Its done very well, but I'm sure there are much more energy efficient ones available. We kind of chose one this evening, with a 5.5 star rating, but then came home to rearrange the kitchen a bit to accommodate it, so I'll go back and buy it for real tomorrow. Isn't my life scintillating?

Well, I'm off to bed, very late but I'm between night shifts and its barely worth retraining my body clock after 2 shifts on with 3 off before 4 more nights, so I've been staying up late. Sigh.

Thanks for feeding the fishies!

Dennis' daughter

2009-08-25T17:39:00.005+08:00

Eighty years ago today my father was born in a little place called Wylkatchem, Western Australia.

From what I know of it he had a tough early life.

He was a young boy in the Depression. The second of three children, much later there was a fourth. Life was hard. I don't know when it was that Grandma became a single parent after the breakdown of the marriage, but I know times were tough.

Dad talked of living (as a child) on the banks of the river in a tent. This was in Perth. He talked of being in a reform school in his teens in Sydney.

He was a man's man. Largely self-taught. He valued education but was wary of the arrogance of class privilege that often came with an educated person's lifestyle.

He was very intelligent, with an easy grasp of most subjects - especially in the science engineering and physics field. He could do fantastic technical drawings. He could make anything structural of steel to any specifications. He could weld.

He drove taxis. He rode motorbikes with sidecars at the Speedway. He drove trucks, including big prime movers. He could repair any engine, on any machine.

He was a Mason. He valued service and integrity. He valued family. He could hold a grudge.

He preferred plain cooking, but appreciated good slow Italian cooking, a bit of Chinese and a good Singaporean chilli crab.

In his later years he worked as a mechanic, an engineering estimator, and a security guard.

He respected guns, and taught me to shoot. He took me out driving in every vehicle my license would allow me to drive, so I could be confident to drive anything I got behind, except somehow he never taught me to back a trailer. Oops. Still, I've driven tractors, trucks, stick shifts, column shifts, automatics, vintages and you-name-its.

He loved lollies, and had quite a sweet tooth. He was fiercely independent and very private. We didn't have a lot, but we had enough and I felt rich, and secure. He played Lotto. He had his chair, a recliner rocker that was hotly contested as long as he was not in it. This is how I remember him very clearly. I'm delighted I have such a 'like' photo of him, and although there are others of him around, this is a beauty. Cropped out is the cat at his feet.

He loved to fish, and I wish I could lay my hands on a wonderful photo of him holding two enormous deep sea dhufish, after a great day of fishing, the cats at his feet. He loved his cats. He loved dogs too, and used to breed dachshunds when I was a small child, but my Mum didn't like dogs, so they had to go.

He was a hoarder, a pack rat. Remind you of anyone? You should have seen his shed when he died. I still have some of his stuff, including his diary from the year I was born, noting my birth. I treasure his handwriting.

He loved his four daughters, and always vowed that he was more than happy to be the father of four girls, with no sons. I was born when he was 32, the last of us a few days after his 40th birthday. I remember making him a card for his 40th. This week I will make a 40th card for that sister.

He was allegedly domestically capable, but this was rarely demonstrated. Instead he was waited on hand and foot, his cuppa quickly fetched within minutes of his return after a hard day's work.

He was a sparse drinker who enjoyed a tipple but rarely over-indulged. Gift bottles of whisky would last for years, eked out in his occasional Irish coffee. He always smoked however, for a few years it was a pipe, later rollies.

I have a treasured memory of him in the last days of his life, in a palliative care unit at the time, sitting outside on a patio, offering me his ancient woollen dressing gown against the evening cold, while he rolled a smoke. We sat together peaceably for a time and then he was tired and I tucked him back in bed. It was the last conversation we ever shared.

The next morning he slipped into unconsciousness, and was taken home where we spent the next 48 hours preparing to let him go. He was barely rousable. The only words he spoke that weekend were of love. "Th'nk you" "Love you" as we turned him, or cleaned him, or stroked him. It was pretty special, and a great privilege to nurse him at the end of his life. He died peacefully on a Sunday at lunchtime, hours after seeing an old friend from Speedway days. We laid him out in his full Masonic regalia, as a Past Master, with family photos in his pocket, his XXXX strong peppermints, money for the paper. The months of his illness had finally seen the grease stains fade from his fingertips, and the undertakers somehow buffed out the welding sparks from his glasses. We were so astonished that we each commented on it at the viewing.

He was a man of dignity and few words, but occasionally he would rabbit on about an unlikely topic. He spoke to all men. He loved children, and called them all Charlie. Five of his grandchildren were born in his lifetime, luckily mine, as the eldest, knew him. The working windmill and swing he built for my kids are still in my yard.

He died one month after he turned 65, from pancreatic cancer, a fast and aggressive cancer that took no prisoners. It is on both sides of the family, and I feel a little daunted at the thought that I may have seen my future end. I hope I have the courage and dignity he showed.

I miss him, and yet I don't. Everything he was to me, he still is. A guide, a mentor, a role model. Steadfast, old-fashioned but interested in innovation. I have his lessons, and he is within me. I often sense his presence. Sometimes I hear myself laughing his throaty deep chuckle. Of course I do miss him, and love him, his acceptance and insights. Even now, fifteen years after his passing, I still have the instinct to tell him something. He was a thinker. I wish he could visit, but maybe he does. I know he would be proud of me, of the Laura I am today. Except he called me Jane. Its a long story. I'm not sure what he'd make of us all now. Things have really changed a lot for our family, not all for the better.

But, today I celebrate the anniversary of his birth. The roast dinner is on. I will raise a glass. Writing this has led to more than a tear or two (where're the tissues when you need them?). This is my favourite photo of my Dad and I together on my wedding day in 1985.And I am proud to be Dennis' daughter.

Learning curves

2009-08-17T16:39:00.003+08:00

Just when you think you've got a handle on things...some toughies come your way.

Its been a rough week.

Can't really talk about it.

Some of it is up to God. It was another one that would NOT have been good at home.

But it was topped off by a little boy born 'sunny side up' this morning. Yep, I guess that really was an anterior fontanelle at 2 o'clock on VE. Little devil.

Fish

2009-08-11T19:01:00.002+08:00

A bit of fun I discovered while playing blog follow-on. I got to 24!

The fishies follow the cursor :)

Sigh. Back to the real world.

If it quacks like a duck...

2009-08-07T11:07:00.004+08:00

THIS is the attention seeking duck. It quacked, and whined, and waddled up and down, and carried on until I took its photo and then it stopped. I'm not kidding. Go figure.

This the annoying, attention seeking duck's friend, who swam quietly without fuss. I took two photos of this one, to reward good behaviour.

This is what my husband insisted was a greater crested grebe.He vowed that it was really rare and we should take a photo of it. So I did. For posterity, in case it became extinct overnight. Funnily enough this 'grebe' had a lot of cousins in Stresa, and on the Borromeo islands.

This is a tree stump on Isola Bella. You can see the attraction, no?

And more of the gardens. You really musn't encourage me.

OK, I'll stop now. Genuine Paris photos next time.

Italy pics (image heavy)

2009-08-05T13:00:00.012+08:00

Ooh, I have forgotten to post any photos from Italy or Paris. Italy first, starting in Milan. Here is the Duomo, that we so loved. Isn't it pretty? It looks like a piece of starched lace, it has such a lightness about it. Sadly the interior is quite gloomy and one can't take photos...ooops...how did those get there?

This is the Victor Emmanuel Galleria (with the McDs inside). It had the usual beautiful floors. Don despairs of me taking photos of ceilings and floors, but I am a slave to beauty.

We were in Milan for Fashion week. There were lots of Beautiful Young Things sloping about. Purple is very big at the moment, and even the men's shops were full of purple pants and shirts (and of course the usual Italian obsession with red pants, or mustard pants for men...shudder). You would have loved it, Stomper. We found supermarkets and ate al fresco and had a lovely dinner in a little restaurant. The clothing stores were many and varied, and they even had a big girls shop, but sadly we didn't have time, or room in the case. I survived.

Then off by train to Stresa. We skirted the mountains we had flown over the previous day and arrived at our little hotel, with a second floor walk-up room. It was really nice. This is the view from my pillow. It was Italy folks. Lago Maggiore was quite, quite lovely. There was a small chain of islands, the Borromeo islands near the shore at Stresa and we went over to them by water taxi on our last day. Just looking at them was really nice, especially in the dusk light. This is the restaurant cafe where I accessed the internet during my stay, and we had dinner there on the first night. It was delicious.

On my rambles around the town(s) I saw gorgeous stone walls and buildings. I saw really sweet lizards (Note, no lizards were licked to back this statement). I even found a junkyard that I itched to fossick in, but restrained myself, more from lack of sufficient Italian to explain myself as a junk obsessed Aussie whose Dad had a great shed, and how it makes me nostalgic for him ..... oh, and the suitcase thing. Sigh.

I had to amuse myself while hubby was away at his conference somehow! I took a cable car up a mountain. I saw enormous tadpoles in an alpine pond. I saw cows and goats in a forest from the air. I rested in a lakeside pirate cove with pretty stones.

The conference dinner was held in a lovely ballroom. See? I am in the pic somewhere. We came home to the news of Michael Jackson's death. Funny heh? The associations that we will always make with that night. I met some interesting people, ate from silver plates and had great food. The floorshow was an interesting piece of cabaret - a shadow maker who depicted famous people - so simple, so ... weird ... but very effective. Almost every photo from that night has a silver line across people's faces from flash bounceback off the silver plates. One of the unexpected drawbacks of wealth (cough) and privilege.

The next day we went to the islands. They were gorgeous. Of course. Interesting little winding streets, old, old buildings. One island, Isola Pescatori, had a cat sanctuary for homeless cats. We found this motheaten old moggy who looks like an older, sleeker version of our cat at home, Phoenix. Puss was nobly ignoring the taunts of these cheeky swallows. When you used the public loos the contributions went to support the cats.

The largest island, Isola Bella, had long been a playground for the rich and powerful. The Duke of Borromeo (or was he a bishop.... anyway), he had a palace on this island which was open to the public along with the very famous terraced gardens. The palace contained one level that was all 'underground' and stone covered, a grotto, for use in the summer. It still contained amazing pieces of sculpture. Napoleon slept in this bed. There was an enormous tapestry gallery. The amount of money to build this place must have been staggering. Mussolini has dined in the restaurants, along with many famous actors and even a Pope. The views from the gardens looked back towards the mainland and the village of Stresa. It was really pretty gorgeous, if a bit OTT Italian style. We were impressed, but cool about it.

Are you getting sick of photos yet? Sorry. It is very hard to whittle it all down. There were interesting things in many place: gardens, tree stumps, views, angles, attention-seeking ducks, inebriated husbands....I'll spare you that one, but I do have lots of photos of him hooting like a monkey.

Next time, Paris!

Many and varied

2009-08-03T10:25:00.004+08:00

Hello Monday.

Another weekend on night shift was had. Friday night shift will go down as a bit of a doozy, for busyness, for grace under pressure and under fire, for teamwork. I'm not sure how many babies were born, but it was probably about 10 on Friday night alone, and around 22 all up over the 3 shifts I worked. There were Code Blues, abruptions transferred in from other places, flat babies, newly birthed women being shipped back to hospitals closer to home, lists of which hospitals could take what cases (antenatal women, postnatal women). There were births in the assessment unit, successful VBACs, unsuccessful VBACs, and more. There were tears (sniff, sniff), and tears (ouchy). It was pretty mad!

I had a tough situation on Friday night where my woman ended up with a CS after a long and difficult labour. By God she was brave and tried so hard to get that baby out, but in the end it was a good decision to bring her out 'through the sunroof'. Such a beautiful baby, such a lovely couple, so close and a great team, very practical and down-to-earth, after a long few nights. I lost the plot briefly, very emotional about the decision for CS, but the family were great as I returned to the room, red-eyed, and accepted my warning stop-signed hand 'DON'T talk to me about it' gesture as a sign of solidarity as we just got on with it, and I was fine after that. It was a good decision, and I feel much better about it all in retrospect than I did at that moment. It was a rare thing for me. Once again, although we had threatened to have words with that baby when she was born, young Bella was too beautiful and soon had us all completely under her spell with no hard feelings.

Saturday night was pretty hectic as well. Arriving at work feeling slightly anxious about the thought of another stressful and emotional night, I walked into my room expecting to get a baby as the coordinator had said I would be getting one soon in that room. The curtain was drawn and I waited behind it to be invited in after announcing myself in a low voice. I could hear the familiar sounds of instruments being handled and clamps being applied, but no words of encouragement, or congratulations, or, worse, baby crying. I peeked around and asked if they had a baby yet and was told tersely 'Yes at 2104' I could see a purple baby and grabbed some gloves and followed the second midwife to the cot in the corner behind a tangle of the woman's possessions. The heartrate was low, bloody low, so I got started on cardiac massage without delay as we called for a code blue paediatric. The baby was very blue, but had some tone, and responded well to the CPR. At 3 minutes she was just starting to gasp a bit, and with the improved cardiac output was starting to pink up as we pumped the oxygen around her little body, and the team were arriving as she started to cry a little. By 4 minutes she was breathing independently, with some facial oxygen. By the time she was 8 minutes old she was in her Mum's arms, although she needed to go down to the nursery for observation.

Phew! That shook the cobwebs out! And restored my confidence in my skills. Phew. The woman was a tricky and complex case with a major history, and it took a bit of time to sort out the whole backstory, but she was up and showered and on the ward by 11pm.

As I returned at 11.20pm I was almost mown down as a trolley containing a young woman was brought around from assessment, her eyes wide with shock. I was available and thrown in to a just vacated and clean, but unreplenished room with her as she screamed in panic for an epidural. It was her second baby and it was determined to be born by midnight it seemed! Each contraction brought on a fresh bout of ear-splitting and sustained screaming. As it subsided the young Mum turned her bulging eyes on me and begged for an epidural. Then the next wave came and she would scream again in panic and say 'what do I do?'

The other staff were great. I asked for a doptone, and if there was another midwife who could stay for 20 minutes (there was, luckily) so she opened delivery sets, and drew up oxytocics, and within 2 minutes we were ready for a birth, and after 5 minutes we were ready for anything. While they organised the technicalities I stayed seated at Mum's knee, soothing her in a gentle voice, reassuring her that she was very clever, and very good at this, she didn't need to do anything, just let it happen. I could see some twitching and unflowering (accompanied by a bit of freaking out) and gradually she settled down and surrendered to it. It was actually a very nice birth once she let go of the panic and stopped trying to hold it in. Once the irresistible pushing reflex kicked in she was superb, and listened really well to guidance and at 2343 she gently pushed out a daughter (with a compound hand tucked under her left ear) with an intact perineum. The baby was vigorous and was chirping before she was fully out. Mum was a bit shocked and her first instinct was to say 'yeah great take it away, I'm tired' but after a minute or so she took a look at her and showed a bit more curiosity. She had heaps of black curls and big dark eyes, and was very interested in looking around, so soon had her stunned Mum under her spell.

What a remedy for my soul. A quickie! Just what I needed! I skipped off to tea with number 52 on my mind. I spent the next 2 hours sorting out her paperwork, and getting her up to the ward (where she apologised for being 'rude' to me - nothing of the sort - and admitted her throat was sore some screaming). She had been visited by her family including hubby and her 1 year old - who was incredibly beautiful with the same dark curls, big blue eyes and the most incredible eyelashes I have ever seen - she looked like she had been in a beauty parlour all afternoon!

The rest of the shift was spent on paperwork from the previous 2 births that had been unattended while we dashed around. I then went down to the nursery to see some twins I was caring for 3 weeks ago, and sadly the smaller twin had died. It was not unexpected, but still I was a bit tearful. His parents were very pragmatic about his chances of survival, and were grateful to have a few hours with him, not expecting him to survive the birth, and he lived for just over two weeks. I visited him and his twin brother 3 times, and will never forget him. He was the smallest living little person I (or any of us) had ever seen. He was such a fighter. Our nursery staff really are terrific. They managed to have the surviving twin attend the service in an incubator on portable breathing support, an accommodation that I know will mean alot to his family. They have been very brave. I hope to see them soon.

As we prepared to leave there was a birth underway where the trace had looked really crap for the last 40 minutes. We were gloved up outside the door to rescuscitate again if necessary, which would have been a fitting bookend to the night, but the day staff arrived before the birth and shooed us out the door. I wonder what happened.

Back to the real daylight world this week. I will miss the night staff. All our staff are great and we have terrific teamwork, but the night girls are a special crew. I will see them, and work with them again, in a few weeks.

I love being a midwife.

Reflective practice

2009-07-27T10:13:00.003+08:00

I am surfacing after a weekend of night shift. Only 3 nights, but what a 3 nights.

I have worked my bum off and been in the deep end, with back-up from colleagues so I wasn't alone, but it has been a very difficult stint.

On the first night I was with a woman who began experiencing a lot of bleeding while in labour with a very prem stillbirth. I really felt for her as her tiny baby was suddenly born in the midst of a roomful of medical and midwifery staff swinging into action to prepare for fluid resuscitation and transfusion. She was fairly calm, but I am so sad that she was unable to have due privacy at that time. She remained brave and dry-eyed, but the drips in inconvenient places meant it was difficult to hold her baby and touch him as he lay on her chest. It was my fiftieth birth, and although I am very fussy about what I call 'mine', and this one was half caught by the doctor during the emergency, I am honoured to claim this little one as a milestone birth, my first time to receive a stillborn. I had cared for his Mum before, during and after the birth and I am touched by our time together. She had left by the time I returned the next night, but for that ten hours I was 'with woman' with her.

The second night I received a woman having her second baby. She had been having a long early labour and was really tired, but it looked like she was kicking into gear and we were ready to catch the little one. Sleep is not really an option when in labour, but she was really keen to do so. She was labouring spontaneously, and coping well. She had had her first child with no pain relief and I was expecting her to do the same. I felt sure there was a baby not far away, and so did a colleague giving a tea relief. She felt the need to urinate frequently so her husband would half-drag her to the bathroom, as she was swaying on her feet. We encourage mobilising in labour so I wasn't concerned. She seemed to 'hit the wall' after a while, and suddenly stopped speaking English, or at least making sense, except for whining and saying 'I can't'. Her blood pressure was creeping up, nothing particularly extreme but she was quite uncooperative, and behaving like a dead duck. She wouldn't even acknowledge questions or make eye contact. I never start an assessment, especially an internal assessment without explicit verbal consent including eye contact permission. I felt myself withdrawing from her emotionally, which rang alarm bells for me, as it is unusual for my patience to be bested. She was going off the boil, but we were all keen for her to have a normal birth with this spontaneous labour, and she wasn't playing the game. She started vomiting, usually a good sign of transition, with a baby not far behind. She was begging for pain relief, as is common, but transient for most women near the end. However she kept vomiting, and I suddenly felt she needed some fluids. But first I checked the BP. It was suddenly high, things were not right, and giving her fluids might not be the right thing. Could she birth quickly and it would be over, or was something going wrong? This was more than me being 'over her'. I felt she'd taken a bad turn, and called for her to be reviewed by the doc.

Within half an hour she was bled, examined, diagnosed with pre-eclampsia, had an epidural underway, monitoring and all the bells and whistles. But it was hard work, as she would/could not engage with staff. Her husband kept trying to speak for her and give consent, but that it not quite good enough. If she is to agree legally to these invasive procedures, such as epidural, and internal assessments, she must give proper consent, or it is assault. And still no baby in sight. I was relieved to get a meal break as it was 8 hours into my shift and I was at the end of my tether, and I really needed sustenance and to regroup. The other staff were all saying what hard work that room was, so I felt a bit better about being so out of sorts with the atmosphere. When I returned, the epidural was in situ but she was still in a bit of pain, but after a top-up we started winning that battle too. The baby was tricky to pick up through her abdomen, and she had a rapid pulse herself that was easy to interpret as the baby's. All in all a very trying night, and I thought I wasn't going to see this baby at all. Just before the end of the shift the doctor came to review her again, and to see whether she had dilated fully or not, and lo and behold she had. She was quite reluctant to push, 'I'm too tired', but this time I did speak quite plainly to her and insist that 'yes you can, then you can rest, so stop making a fuss, lets get this job finished'. We repositioned her for pushing and had her begin the job. We couldn't do it for her! The next shift arrived and a student midwife gloved up and bustled up expectantly. Rarely, I said 'actually, I'm catching this one, I've worked bloody hard all night for this baby. Catch with me, but this one has MY name on it!' The baby was born just before 7.30 am, and although I had vowed to have stern words with her, she was really just too pretty to be cross with her for long. She was quiet and alert, big dark eyes and a head of curls, and her Mum was all of a sudden chatty and interactive and full of thanks, and delighted to have a second girl. I earned my sleep, but didn't sleep well. More's the pity....

The third night was the last straw. We arrived to some devastating news of the death of a young doctor in a car crash. She was a vibrant talented young woman, and we were all reeling in shock. Red-eyed, we made our way into our allocated rooms and tried to quietly compose ourselves. In my room a woman had just started pushing, and her midwife stayed to complete the birth. I was happy to be the background second midwife witnessing. There was some blood on the emerging head, a sign of a vaginal tear somewhere that can't be helped until the baby and placenta is out. The baby was born after a massive effort, a lovely girl welcomed with crows of delight and rejoicing over who had won the bets. Followed by bleeding. A lot of bleeding. Blood started pouring onto the floor. I was reminded of the first time I had seen such a thing, and I had a rough idea that it took about a litre on the bed to do such a thing....Call in the storm troops, get it all happening, the family still on the phone as it unfolds, baby in arms, Mum sweating and feeling the effects. 2.2 litres measured so far. Off to theatre with no time for a breastfeed.

Word kept coming up and down from theatres. She would be a bit longer, still bleeding, baby was frantic, skin to skin with Dad, the drop of colostrum I had managed to express as we were preparing for theatre not satisfying her at all. Dad asked for a bottle, and we had the discussion about breast first, second and third, but he asked a lot of good questions about breast stimulation that I was happy to answer that skin to skin and breastfeeding could be resumed within minutes of the reunion...whenever that would be. We weighed and measured the baby, she had some more skin to skin time with Dad and he fed her a small amount of formula while she was on his chest, so there was the association with skin. It was definitely a compromise, but a realistic one given the condition of the Mum. I took them to the special care unit to wait for her, then popped into theatre to see how things were going. The bleeding was now controlled with some 'big guns'. I told her about the baby's weight, and praised her bravery, and reassured her that the baby was skin to skin with Dad and waiting for her.

There was a big bag of linen waiting to be weighed for blood loss. The total was large. Ten times the loss we normally expect. A massive PPH. I mean massive. Out of the blue, in a first timer with a spontaneous labour. Once again, we saved a life today.

One of the doctors spent the rest of the shift speculating on what would have happened in the case of such a catastrophic haemorrhage if she had birthed at home, and the answer was clearly not favourable. Does one take the risk of first-time birth at home and take the consequences in these outlying cases? Or does one practice in caution, perhaps risking over caution, with no belief in normal birth and physiology. It is easy to see the slippery slope to constantly defensive practise that has led to the over medicalisation of birth such as we see today.

In three nights I had seen a normal unmedicated birth of a very prem stillborn, with bleeding complications. I had seen a spontaneous labour blow into pre-eclampsia within hours, followed by a normal birth. And another spontaneous labour and normal birth followed by major bleeding. These are among the emergencies midwives prepare for, and when one works in a big hospital one can expect to see a higher rate of complications. But it is sobering nonetheless.

I continue to believe that women should be offered a choice of place of birth, and I hope one day to work in a model of care that allows me to provide the full continuum of care to women including labour and birth wherever they choose, or it is collectively deemed safe. Not 'dominated by fear of the outlying event' safe. That said, I can't imagine how awful it would be to be faced with such a PPH at home with 2 midwives present, without the extensive range of PPH drugs, waiting for an ambulance to transport, without a theatre with the equipment that saved that woman's life. It would certainly shake, if not permanently scar, one's confidence, whatever one's faith in women's physiology and normal birth.

I have seen way too much blood this weekend. But I still...love being a midwife.

Wild weather = wild women

2009-07-21T17:08:00.009+08:00

Its been a while since I showed you any Wild Women. Wanna see the latest batch?

My previous WW are found here and in mid-April archives. The latest girls have been a while coming as I have been quite stop/start with them.

Here is Nymph. You've met her before, but she got finished with some extra floral embroidery and is now ready to take off to her new home.

This is Regina. She is a queen of Rio, and dresses in the colours of the carnival.

Below is Minnie. She took her time to reveal herself, and was bald for quite some time. It didn't suit her. But when she claimed some sorbet-coloured locks she came alive. Her arms and legs are 'milagros' and have a lovely textureand she has vintage crochet lace as her skirt. I think she is doing the Twist.

This is Jaune. Someone I know is having a special birthday soon and guess where Jaune is going to live?

Finally, you have also seen this sweetie before but she was shy and hadn't told me her name yet. She has just whispered it to me...May I introduce Flora. She likes violets.

She was nervous for her close-up, but I think it turned out, don't you?

Cold off the press

2009-07-20T12:23:00.009+08:00

WOW!!!!WOW!!!! There has just been the most incredible hailstorm come through here!

The front yard, looking toward the veggie patch

The back yard adrift.

I'm glad I'm not showering outside here today!
This is the back lane , with runoff through the drifts.

I can hear the little guy next door whooping in delight as he discovers another pile.

This is the neighbour's verge. Ice rinse for the washing, anyone?

Let's see if I can upload the footage I took of it hailing from the back door.

WOW!!!!! It happened nearly an hour ago and its still in drifts.(edited to add it lasted 7 hours, it has only just melted, but Don and Steff both got to see it when they came home)

I have never seen such a heavy hailstorm, I'm grateful there was no damage, as the hailstones themselves were not too big, but I'm glad I took photos.

And there's a bowl of it in the freezer!!!

Because...

2009-07-17T16:17:00.004+08:00

To satisfy the curiosity of a certain friend, I gave Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince 8/10 because...well its difficult to explain. Maybe I'd better just evaluate it as is.

The plot is not strictly according to the book. In the way that film 3 was condensed, with scenes from the book taken slightly out of sequence, or rolled into one for brevity. This film does the same, and it works and removes some of the tedious repetition. There are also completely new scenes and dialogue not from the book. Mostly these work, but one or two give away bits of the plot that one does not come to understand until later. There is a particularly menacing scene set at Xmas. Some characters don't appear at all. Some lose their lines to a different character in one scene then regain them later.

Snape and Draco Malfoy are both played with much more sympathy than previously seen. Some of the Draco stuff is touching. Dumbledore is really good in this, his scenes at the end moving but understated -just the way he would like them, really. Michael Gambon is terrific this time, he approaches Richard Harris for gravitas at last.

The main trio are all really good, and growing up beautifully. They each carry their scenes without too much mawkishness for a change, although Ron Weasley is a bit of a dope. He also has some funny scenes, with Harry, who has a delightful scene alone while under the influence. Teen hormones are raging! And boy, does that Ginny Weasley know what she wants.

Cinematography was good. The mood was amazing, no sweetness and light here. And the scenes in the cave were well realised. Great tension towards the end of the film. Slightly disappointed to have no funeral to sob over further, with a strangely awkward bit of editing that shifts the mood a bit prematurely for me, ending with a very obvious ribbon tying class for loose ends and demonstrating the way forward. If it had gone a bit harder with the grief work I may have been more satisfied, but the romance and comedy was great. Luna Lovegood was delightful.

It didn't drag in the slightest, in fact I would have been happy to sit for another 10-15 minutes to include a scene or two more. I especially missed one of the opening scenes from the book involving Fudge and the muggle Prime Minister, although the atmosphere was well and truly established by brief scenes of London under attack.

Once again I was frustrated by how much Dumbledore knew and didn't teach Harry. What a waste!

Maybe eight is a bit mean. Its possibly a nine. I can't wait to see it again!

Multitasking

2009-07-15T08:54:00.003+08:00

Happy Harry Day!

We are going to see the latest HP flick tonight and we are sooooo excited! There is jumping up and down! And that's just with ME!

Also on my to-do list for today:

Colour my hair (in progress, be grateful I don't have live webcam)

Hang out washing (done) before men come to pull down the back fence adjacent to washing line (only found out about this one 30 minutes ago)

Hopefully have hair and shower achieved by the time men come to do said fence.

Fold a very large amount of washing.

Vacuum through.

Make fried rice and pumpkin scones for a pre-Harry large avo-tea, as the session goes over dinner time and I know I'm not gonna last.

Cut and colour my sister's hair.

Fuss over my Mum who is quite sick with a shocking chest, but insists on coming to Harry tonight. She can gawk at photos while I do hair.

Receive, feed and keep the hysteria down on 2, no, 3, no ....well, on all of our pre-Harry excitement. Oh who am I kidding? I can't wait!!!!!

Better get onto it!

Slotting back into it

2009-07-09T17:45:00.005+08:00

Ahh, its nice to be back at work.

I was hanging around home for the last few days, after a stressful and emotional week at home post-holiday, wondering if I was bored and ready to go back to work. The answer appears to be YES!

Its lovely to be back! Back with women and babies, and boobs, and most of all my fellow midwives.

I have been pleasantly busy, certainly fully absorbed, for two shifts now, with a great variety of women, from all walks of life. Women with prem babies, who are doing really well and come up to the ward (less than 35 weeks!!!), women with babies with unexpected birth defects, taking it all in their stride. Women having their second baby but breastfeeding for the first time, or giving it another go with the second after a less than stellar first time around the block. Brave women, loving their babes, or terrified of their baby, or hoping the baby stays in and gets cooked a bit more if they can stop bleeding.

The ward is being renovated currently which makes for a slightly smaller number of women to care for, but a bit more chaos and rearranging of Stuff We Need. Instead of the neonatal assessment area being in a central location it has moved to one end of a long ward, and today when workmen set off the alarm for the nursery we all rushed to the new location....but luckily it was an accident and the sheepish workmen were unaware that they had even had midwives running. As if we needed the exercise!

The breadth of issues being faced and dealt with by women and their midwives on a daily basis continues to impress me. Today I had a work experience student with me, a mature age one, so my every move was shadowed by someone. Sometimes she was able to join in and have a little bit of hands on - listening to a baby's heartbeat with the stethescope, gently feeling a postpartum abdomen to feel the contracting uterus as it shrank back into the pelvis, but mostly she watched quietly and asked questions in the corridor as we whizzed off to the next room. She asked good questions, and I hope she was able to get a feel for the range of a midwife's work. I had a gynaecology patient as well so she got a bit extra thrown in! As she'd had 7 children of her own I felt there wasn't much could shock her (not that I tried at all) and at the end of the day she expressed her appreciation of the new perspective. For all that she'd had 7 babies she had never experienced an epidural, or a caesarean, or a premmie, or a sick or disabled baby so there is always something to learn from every situation and she showed alot of empathy.

She asked briefly about drug addicted babies, and stillbirths and 'what happens' and I answered her questions as honestly as I could without going into too much detail. Our hospital truly does offer a wide range of experiences, and I'm very grateful to be seeing so much, as well as being able to teach students coming through.

I got a lovely surprise on my return to work. There was envelope for me with an excellence notation for my portfolio, and a beautiful email from a great couple I had been with for their birth in late March. I've just gone back and checked and I didn't tell you about this birth, but the commendation and photo they sent have reminded me what a fantastic day it was.

I remember they were a couple in their late 30s, their first baby, who had been together for 20+ years. It was a spontaneous labour, term or thereabouts, and they were so intune with each other. Just leaning and swaying together. She would look for him with each contraction, an obvious touchstone for her tranquility and there was no fighting or reluctance with the strength of each wave. It just came, was accepted and went away. She was a slightly built woman with long light brown hair and a lively face, and just so calm, it was a pleasure to be with her. I had a student with me that day too, and was really pleased to see such a spontaneous unmedicated woman - it was her first out of 5 hospital labours she had seen.

The room was dark, the monitor was off, I just listened in every now and then, baby was steady and gorgeous. At transition she got a bit shaky, and didn't quite know what to do with herself, but I suggested she go into the loo to be by herself, or with her hubby and regroup, and to come out when she was ready or wanted to push. So she did. Often women don't know what sensations to respond to - the pressure in their bottom caused by the descending head, the nausea and shakes of transition - for some it is the welcomed last time they throw up in the pregnancy! SO a change of scene will often do the trick. Additionally, the walking and sitting/squatting helps melt the last bit of the cervix away....

And so it was. She asked to be examined and she was fully dilated with a bulging bag of waters which actually popped shortly afterwards. The pushing began, she felt more secure on the bed so we positioned and positioned to help the descent of the head, which was slow but steady. The end of the shift was nigh, but the afternoon midwife was working with us, and after 30 minutes we spied a little head in the dark depths. Yay! And there it stayed for a tantalising 10 minutes, and then took another 10 minutes to crown properly. I was getting a bit antsy, and considering a rare episiotomy to release the head as I couldn't hear the fetal heart very well with the baby so deep within the canal. At last the head fully emerged followed quickly by the rest of the babe who lay there like a stunned mullet. I scooped her up and popped her onto her Mum, who announced the sex as I gritted my teeth waiting for the first breath...and waited...rub, rub....waiting...rub, rub...cut the cord... over to the resus warmer.... bag and mask, rub, rub c'mon sweetheart come and take part....heart rate good.....nil respiratory effort.....puff, puff.....getting pinker.....heart rate still good.......eyes still wide open and staring......come on little one, rub rub, still floppy....come and play. The afternoon midwife and I were both working on her as she was pretty stunned after that prolonged crowning. After two and a half minutes she gave a splutter, then blinked and sort of screwed up her face and let out a weak yell of protest, then started waving her arms and pedalling while taking deep breaths. Within 30 secs she was with her Mum and Dad, where she stayed skin to skin, pink and pretty (for ages I'm told), so calm and alert after a slow start.

Just one of those days....It was the second resus I'd done in as many days, after a few months without any. I recall being grateful again for my skills, our constant training and updates that allow us to just act without hesitation, and her pink perfection was a wonderful reward. I recall feeling sad for them that they were to be separated, by her staying in overnight in hospital. They hadn't been apart for a night in 23 years. How's that for a strong team? She was so amazing in her labour, so little fuss, so stoic and accepting of the process and I couldn't praise her enough, and made sure the student knew what a lovely birth she had seen - although she had seen 7 homebirths (more than I have) and was happy to finally have seen a gentle spontaneous hospital birth! This woman really was very beautiful and very clever and an absolute natural. So clever. So good at birthing. She should definitely do this again!

I don't recall the resus being a big deal or drama in the room, or any particular anxiety from the parents, they just happily accepted her back into their arms...but they may have reflected on those first few minutes later and wrote to the hospital expressing their appreciation to the three of us for our labour and birth care. It was a most welcome reminder of a great day.

I love being a midwife.

Photos, photos

2009-07-06T00:01:00.009+08:00

I am having some trouble showing you photos from our trip without uploading them all.

The Amsterdam/Delft photos are on Flickr (I can't get a link to work, dammit, but they are on my FB photos if you can be bothered). However these are a few of my favourites. There is a story to each one of course....they reflect my interests which transcend international boundaries and may bore you all to tears e.g. this one was taken because I found a lighthouse picture in a shop display. (sigh)

This is the quilting fabric shop I found in the Albert Cuypermarkt, so I had to bring 2 pieces home. I was restrained.

The markt sold all many of things, from peonies (tulips were now out of season) to seeds for plants that it is, um, not legal to grow in most countries. I wasn't tempted.

There were beautiful canal walks, with luscious trees and stately and really old canal houses to admire, including the old warehouses with big shutters. I was fascinated to learn that many houses have block and tackles attached to the front top of the house for ease of furniture removal. Sometimes the house even leaned a little to facilitate this. On the last day we went by train to Delft, home of the famous painted Delftware. They even made a chair!There were more pretty canals and houses. It was hard to take a terrible photo, everywhere was so picturesque.

I'm especially pleased to have caught this windmill from the train as we zoomed past. There were some impressive churches in Delft, a 'new church' and an 'old church'. This is a Green Man piece of plaster work from the old church that I like because it is so weathered - I believe it is from 1400-ish. Australians really do scratch our heads in wonder at the concept of such old buildings. Unfortunately both the churches were closed for the day and we couldn't go inside...pity, they each looked amazing from the outside.

One of the places that was open was the Johannes Vermeer Museum. It was really lovely, with lifesize reproductions of each of his 36 known works. It was sad to think he had so few works. Many of the works were painted in a setting in his studio with the light coming from teh upper left as seen below in this pic. There was a little setup with a camera holder to recreate the conditions. This is a random woman I asked to pose for me. She did take one of me but it turned out very blurry. Don was museumed out that day and he sat in the town square with a beer while I took in the JV museum. I'm glad I did. We both cried when we saw the original of the Milkmaid in the Rijksmuseum. It was extraordinarily beautiful. The Girl with a Pearl Earring was in The Hague, which we thought of going to see, but it seemed too hard to reach there from the station, so she 'got away'.

I'll post pics from Italy next time.

About that piece of patisserie...

2009-07-01T13:36:00.004+08:00

Never boast on your blog that getting to an airport is going to be a piece of patisserie.

I am now at home in my own cluttered study. We walked through our door just before 5am, drooping with weariness after a very long journey home.

We boarded the RER train in plenty of time to hit the airport well ahead of our flight. Then the train stopped before emerging onto the second station. I immediately felt Don's panic rising as we sat in a tunnel, with PA announcements not to open the doors. Eventually we crawled into the station where people were exchanged, then after a short delay we set off again. Approaching the next station this was repeated with additional announcements about a known delay at a stop 2 further along. We sat and waited. And waited. There was another announcement confirming significant delays of unknown duration due to there being a person on the track at Stade de France. Don went from jittery to practically whistling like a newly boiled kettle! I had already offered to get off and get a taxi, which he had declined. Now I just stood up and grabbed the cases. It was no longer an offer but a certainty. The track was blocked. There was no way around the obstacle because there would be no further trains beyond the blockage to pick up.

We emerged onto the street to an empty taxi rank. Don was swearing and hypercrabby about every jolt of the cases over every bump. I ground my teeth and picked up my guide book (that I had nearly packed in the suitcase) and my mobile phone (with the battery failing fast) and called a taxi company. Just as she was promising me a cab in 7 minutes one pulled up (in front of a bus)in response to Don's frantic hailing. We piled in gratefully as the phone battery died. Eighteen minutes later we arrived where I was left as hostage to the taxi driver while Don entered the airport to find an ATM. He emerged after 10 minutes with 60 euros which he thrust at the driver for a 48 euro fare. When you tot up how much our initial tickets had cost as well, it was a very expensive airport ride!

We checked in easily, in plenty of time and headed to the gate where our seats would be allocated. The girl at the counter assured me we would have good seats but the flight was full. We queued dutifully and passed through all the security checks and got on to our bulkhead seats the centre two of four, with no-one on our outsides. Until ... 5 minutes prior to closing the doors a man with a cute baby appeared on one side, with many bags and trying to hold the kid while he stuffed things into overhead lockers. I beckoned for the baby who flirted very appealingly with me. As I was mid-flirt, a young woman appeared from the other side, looking curiously at me and frowning at the man across us. I then noticed that she had put down a baby carrier at the exit row. As she dumped more bags in the seat next to me it was quite clear that the baby had a Mama. And a sister. And that Don and I were somehow seated between parents of 8-month old twins. Two babies! Yes, I'm so lucky to be on a long flight with two babies, Mama moaned. We offered to move so they could sit together. Our offer was rejected irritably. It seemed she was just quite irritated. Full stop.

Papa had retrieved his little guy from me and was struggling to get him double seat-belted in place for take-off. Mama had settled the sleeping little girl to her chest under many floaty drapes without noticing the need for a double seat-belt. She turned her head and tried to feign sleep, while sniffing away tears. Okay.....

As we taxiied she leaned forward and saw the extra seat-belt stuffed into the seat pocket. She clucked her tongue and curled her lip as I offered to help. It would have been nice to know of this earlier she snarled. I applied my soothing never mind, it won't take a minute voice as she lifted the draped sleeping baby from her chest and I groped for her seatbelt, unfastened it, added the baby bit and reclipped it onto her, then clicked it around the baby. There, there. We took off to the loud wailing of baby boy, dummyless (it was in one of the many bags). Sigh.

It didn't get much better from there, in fact it descended into some level of hell for the first 8 hours of the 12 hour flight which left at midnight. As soon as the seatbelt sign was switched off the flight staff assembled the bulkhead bassinets for the babies, but only after they put up our screens on stalks from the armrests of our seats, effectively trapping us in our extremely hard seats for the duration of the flight.

(edited to add:If it sounds like I am hard and unsympathetic to families flying with two babies across the world...um....I don't mean to be. My heart did sink for them, a bit, as soon as I saw them. But it sank for us a trifle more, especially when I realised that the bassinets meant we would be trapped in our seats. They themselves had asked to be seated in that configuration. They did refuse to be sat together, and frankly it would not have made much difference. Someone had to sit next to them. Besides, my ass wouldn't fit into one of the aisle seats anyway. And I do like babies, so ... I suspect I was somewhat reluctant partly because I had a cold-sore healing on my face, and I couldn't snuggle and drool on them as I would ordinarily like. I looked like a leper. It was a drawback.)

Am I painting an effective picture? A bulkhead seat never gives quite enough legroom anyway with the seatpockets blocking full knee extension. The seats were rock-hard from the moment we sat down. They didn't tilt back much, and we couldn't extend our legs anyway. The aircon was set to inferno. The seats were so narrow my hips were cemented in the forward facing position. The couple tutted at each other across us, each dealing with their own baby. And Don and I tried to get some sleep (who am I kidding) It. was. not. good. Because of the bassinet barriers we had to climb up onto the seats and walk over the armrests to get out to go to the toilet. I managed it twice on my side and had to wake Mama up from her deep sleep (in those 5 mins) to get back in.

After 8 hours we possibly lost all sensation to our backs and lower limbs, because it seemed we were marginally less uncomfortable, but it could have been that our spines were now permanently remoulded. I'll let you know about that.

Breakfast was served about 1.5 hours prior to landing and both parents had their hands full. After we finished Papa was struggling to get a mouthful with a wriggling little guy who was yelling his head off so he came to sit on my lap again for a while and I fed him a breadroll which kept him very amused for 20 minutes as he gummed and sucked it to death and rained crumbs down the two of us. Mama had disappeared for a while but when she came back her little girl decided that she wanted some of the roll too so we passed it around and all got crumby together. It was a fun way to end the flight.

They live in Singapore so were not coming on to Perth (shame) but we landed to the news that the homeward flight was delayed by 2.5 hours, so we had 4 hours in Singapore. That left us with time to scour the terminals looking for a replacement hat for a fantastic little number that Steff had lost in Melbourne after only 2 weeks last year. It was such a good hat that it needed to be replaced. We found it in the last terminal we searched. It was so worth it.

Finally our flight boarded and we had a row of four to ourselves. There is a God. A bit of sleep then an hour of immigration, baggage waiting, customs and taxi queues.

We crept into the house and put the kettle on (its been 2 weeks since we've seen a kettle) while I jumped into the shower. Then I got out hurriedly to let Don in to cool off a burn to his groin from a hot cuppa he had slopped straight from the kettle. Bugger. It was not too bad but it stopped him from sleeping in bed as he needed a cold compress to stop it blistering. Luckily it missed all the interesting bits of anatomy, but it made him think twice about sleepily getting naked in anticipation of a shower while manoevering boiling water! Its OK today, although for a minute there I could see myself heading straight to the hospital at 5.30am before we'd even slept.

The house was in good shape. Presents have been given and well received. I'm heading out to the shops to get a roast for dinner. I've seen both of the kids only now- Steff went to work while I was crashed this morning and Don only saw her briefly before he fell back asleep on the couch, and she has just arrived home. Mum is blogging...what else is new - in my defense I had hoped to be finished with it but got interrupted with a phonecall I couldn't get out of. Our reunion was very happy nonetheless.

I haven't downloaded any photos yet. You'll see them when I do.

Bonjour and Bonsoir from Paris

2009-06-29T23:40:00.004+08:00

We are homeless in Paris.

After a very busy 46 hours we checked out of our hotel 6 hours ago and have been wandering the hot and humid streets of Paris while waiting for our flight from CDG2. We can get there easily from our area on one of the RER lines, so the journey there should be a piece of patisserie.

Paris is truly gorgeous. We are staying in the 4th between the Pantheon and the Luxembourg gardens, so breakfast and the afternoon nap were spent under the chestnut trees - in the afternoon the park was teeming with folk (Don says 'frogs') escaping the heat with a glace from the van outside the gates. They were doing a roaring trade! We have been jumping on and off the metro across lines to visit or revisit our favourite bits-The Eiffel Tower this morning, and Saint Chappelle without all the scaffolding. Then across to St Germain des Pres, and lunch from a great boulangerie by the Seine with aching feet watching the tourist boats, to Saint Sulpice and gasping for water to catch our strength again then back to Luxembourg

Our hotel has one of the smallest bathroom in the known universe. I kid you not. I can't stand side-on to the basin with the door shut and dry myself without scraping and thumping bones and causing much swearing. Sitting on the toilet is a particular art - luckily I am good at bellydancing cos there's a moment when you have to swivel in a half-circle as you sit to avoid the basin without hip-bumping the door. Of course this may more about the diameter of my hips than the decor....However...when in Rome. - I'm sure there are many Parisiennes with permanent facilities just as cramped, and the location for the price!

Last night we had dinner with a colleague of Don's from Perth in a little neighbourhood wine bar/restaurant in the ?14th i think. It was delightful. Very limited menu - which is usually a sign of good cooking we always think. We even had a couple of fragrant soft cheeses and I had an orange creme brulee which was really, really good and well worth the wait. The staff were run off their feet and you could see their minds going at a million miles per hour but boy do they know their stuff. Its fascinating to see the really professional and slick french waiters in their uniforms of one sort or another, black vests, sometimes a cap with tailored pants in a traditional style. We were in Monmartre yesterday and it was quite a side-show to watch them as they coped with all the tourists flagging in the heat, efficiently seating them and reviving their spirits with beer, or in my case tea.

The flights home are a slightly daunting prospect. I have my oh-so-sexy white TED stocking to avoid swelling up to my thighs and I plan to indulge in a movie or two as we have been a bit limited in access to English language stuff for a few weeks, but hey - it IS Europe and it has been fabulous to see a bit more of it. I am a lucky, lucky duck.

I suspect my time may be up soon so I had better post this and move on.

Au revoir!

You should see the view!

2009-06-25T16:44:00.002+08:00

I am going to try and be really clever now and take a photo with my mobile and email it to myself here at the cafe right now, hang on....talk among yourselves.......waiting for them to arrive so you can see the photos.

I am on the shores of Lago Maggiore at Stresa. It is seriously gorgeous. I feel like I'm on the Riviera. The Isola Bella is almost touching distance away. The little water taxis cruise in and out (in fact I may catch one to go along the waterfront to the town square which is about a 2km walk).

The hotels along the lakefront are stunning. The Hotel Regina Palace which is the venue for my husband's conference is just that. Palatial. Lush, tasteful furnishing with a neutral and gold theme and each room is accented in a different colour. Red for one room, pale blue for another, green for a third. All with really high ceilings and enormous windows that overlook cascading gardens. Heavenly.

Yet it is not at all posh. There are a range of hotel standards. We're in a little 2 star place that has really nice rooms and a bathroom and balcony just a street back with lake glimpses. The community is nestled into a hillside, with small villages adjoining. I wandered around one yesterday, walking (uphill, gasp) from the internet cafe I am at currently. It ended up being a 5km walk. I felt very virtuous.

I am going to sign off now. The photos haven't come through yet, but a cablecar (won't) awaits me to take me to a mountain top. Such is life.

Caio belle

2009-06-22T22:51:00.003+08:00

We're in Milano!

Its lovely to be back in Italy! The language is so familiar, the people and food so comforting.

We spent yesterday on a day-trip to the historic Dutch town of Delft. When we arrived it seemed to be closed :( However we wandered around for a bit, followed a walk in the guide book, sat and had a beer (I had a hot chocolate, it was quite windy and cold) and then bought some souvenirs. There was a free open-air concert at 3pm which we decided to stay for of Tchaikovsky's 5th, Saint Saens and something else. It was very pleasant and by the time it started the (very pretty market) square was packed and the sun was out. I also went to the Vermeer house exhibit and bought an antique Delft tile from 1740. Just one. Its a bit battered but that's the way I like it. We elected not to go to The Hague on the way back, and headed back to Amsterdam and a kebab dinner, packing and planning our Milan experience (only 24 hours).

After a pretty early start and hanging around the airport for. a . long. time. (don't ask) the flight was easy. We arrived about lunchtime and trained into Milan, stopped briefly at our hotel and ventured out to see the Duomo which was really spectacular. Mark Twain described it as breathtaking, with a lightness of body and so we found it so too. It reaches for the sky, and seems impermanent as if made of starched lace. Contrasted with the inside which is dark and almost brooding, but with incredible spaces. It is the second biggest cathedral in the world (apparently) after St Peter's basilica - but its not nearly as impressive as St Peter's. It has nicer candles though....I light candles everywhere we go, especially at a Lady Chapel.

There was also a spectacular Triumphal style arch in honour of Victor Emmanuel II with a beautiful light filled gallery, housing some of the world's spectacular fashion and accessory houses. Louis Vuitton. Prada. And, strangely, a McDonald's. Such a travesty of a beautiful space.

We walked through this area to La Scala which we were unable to enter sadly, but the touts were out offering tickets to 'Aida' for tonight. Pass. Too long, I couldn't face it after a long day of travel.

We ate an inexpensive lunch in the piazza overlooking the Duomo, fed the pigeons a few crumbs then dragged our sore feet home via the backstreets, only getting a little bit lost. However i did have faith that the streets of Milan were present for centuries before we arrived, and they were unlikely to have vanished from a map, even if it did seem they had. We walked one block right, or left, or further and there we were, back at the hotel.

We are now showered and chilling out with a bit of wi-fi internet and email in our room and laughing at Star Trek and An Affair to Remember dubbed into Italian. We plan a nice dinner somewhere tonight after a nap.

I'm looking forward to being in Italy for the rest of the week, then on Saturday we're off to Paris.

Lucky, lucky, lucky ducks. Not rubbing it in, just...appreciating the moment.

Notes from Damrak

2009-06-20T22:56:00.006+08:00

Hi y'all from Amsterdam

Our first impressions are very favourable. What a laid-back city! There don't appear to be any Beautiful People in Amsterdam but there are a LOT of people having a good time. A large serve of Patates Frites seem to be de rigeur at 4pm. And shouting as one returns drunkenly to the hotel, or rolling one's suitcase loudly on the cobblestones is the go at 4am. Take it from me.

We are staying at a budget hotel on a very busy street and we have a front room with a street view, which also means street noise. The room is comfortable in itself, and we have trams right outside the door that take us in all directions. We are quite jet-lagged and will be hoping to sleep properly tonight without waking at 3 am, or having too much of a nap and sleeping through until 8pm, which is still in bright light. Earplugs are a distinct advantage. Say no more.

So far we have seen the flower market, been on a canal cruise, wandered around the Dam, booked tickets to Delft for Sunday, eaten cherries and grapes, smoked eel, been to the Rijkmuseum, the Van Gogh museum, eaten lunch in the park, wandered the sidestreets and seen the coffeeshops, and after our sleep-in nap had a very nice Thai meal on the edge of the red-light district. We wandered home through the area, a bit underwhelmed and noting that there were a lot of men in Amsterdam everywhere. It was curious

Today we have been to the AlbertCuyper Markts. It was very long, it went for blocks and blocks, but we only bought fruit and chocolate. The trams are very easy to navigate, and everyone speaks English which is extremely handy. We kid ourselves that we're pronouncing the names of places properly, and every now and then locals will butt in and tell us we're heading in the wrong direction! They've saved our bacon heaps of times! Luckily all the trams come so frequently that we don't have to wait too long for the new one in the other direction.

We are also acclimatising slowly to the traffic direction and the bike lanes - I have nearly been squished a few times stepping onto tram tracks and looking in the wrong direction!

Overall it is an immensely pretty place, interesting and old, easy to get around, with good inexpensive food and friendly people. We are suffering slightly from the affliction known as "Museum Feet" but otherwise having a marvellous time. Naturally, photos of interesting places and sights are being taken...but I forgot the USB cable for the camera so you will have to wait. Sorry. It really is very picturesque. Ooh, but we could try this link and see the video e-card we sent to the kids. Its pretty lame but...authentic.

Whats new in your world?

Packed and outta here!

2009-06-17T09:47:00.003+08:00

Well, I'm off again.

Guidebooks? Tick.

Knickers? Tick.

Bras? Ooh, that was a close one, I nearly forgot...Tick.

Favourite husband? Tick.

Lots of books to read on the plane? Tick.

Colour coordinated wardrobe for European early summer? This season Laura will be seen in a versatile wardrobe of black, pink and purple accents. Two pairs of shoes only. Tick.

Camera and batteries, card cleared for lots of vital photos? Tick.

Adult children prepped and briefed and cooked for and groaning under lists? Tick.

Various family members ready and organised to help out with appointments? Tick (thanks so much gang).

Blogs read? not yet....I wish I could suspend Bloglines for 2 weeks, but I may have some downtime while Don is at his conference so I can sit in a cafe somewhere and catch up.

Off to the world of airports, fabulous cities and 3 non-English speaking countries in 2 weeks.

Caio belle!

Blondes have more fun

2009-06-14T12:50:00.007+08:00

Well, I've been a busy little bunny.

You may have noticed my photo has changed - this one was taken on Friday when I was out at lunch for a retirement do for one of my husband's oldest colleagues. We had a riotous time at a local restaurant I have been to 3 times in the last 2 months - I had a great prawn dish with garlic prawns, coriander and lime sauce. The waiter was a bright friendly guy who joined in our jokes, and kept us discreetly walled off in a private courtyard, so we didn't disturb other diners with our hoots of laughter and loud stories. It was a really good long lunch, with quite a bit of...um...celebrating.

I finally begged off at 3pm to return home and cook for the afternoon tea we hosted yesterday for my birthday. Excuse the red-eyes in the picture below, but its the only photo I have that shows any of the spread.

We had pumpkin scones, vanilla cupcakes(GF), orange and almond cake(GF), smoked salmon rolls and sandwiches, Greek hazelnut crescents, chocolate biscuits (GF), and a chocolate cake with chocolate butter cream, toasted pistachios and drizzled dark chocolate (yum), all washed down with tea and coffee in nice china cups, just like Ladies. When we'd finished being ladies we got stuck into a nice red wine to finish, but it was ostensibly an afternoon tea and I had a great time. It was marvellous to have an excuse to bake and bake and not to have to eat it all myself.

The girls really got stuck into the afternoon tea as well, and polished off the plates nicely, then sat under the table chatting to each other (6" away) via Facebook. It was hilarious.

It was a lovely excuse to dig out the good china. I especially enjoyed the way all the china connected me to women from my past. I had 3 teacup sets from my late Nanna, one I received for my 21st, 2 from a friend's mother that were gifted to me by my friend, a favourite plate from a late aunt of my husband, another plate from friends in Japan, my lighthouse cups, a set of 4 from my sister's wedding china that she gifted me with a few years ago. A silver fold-up tiered what-not from an elderly connection of the family. A china coffee pot that belonged to my late mother-in-law, whom I never met, and a small plate that was hand-painted by my paternal grandmother. She died when I was 15.

I feel very connected to these woman from all facets of my life. The guests included 3 friends I did midwifery with; 3 friends I have known from Mother's camp (one of whom is also a midwife); Lesley who I know from playgroup 20+ years ago, my daughter, two of my sisters, two nieces, Steff's friend A and my Mum. There were a few men present as well, but it was mostly a lovely gathering of women.

Ah, it did my heart good. What a lucky woman I am.

Not to mention the fact that this time next week I shall be in Amsterdam. Then the north of Italy. Then ... (squee) ... PARIS again! Sigh. I'm almost jealous of myself.

Blonde!!! And Scrappy Katz

2009-06-04T11:12:00.004+08:00

This really is the last word on bathroom business. My niece and my daughter in the bath. See how big it is?

My sister dyed my hair again on the weekend..we were aiming for a little darker, but got red-gold instead. Oh My! (excuse all the mess in the background)

I'm shocked to see it so light, and reddish. I think I like it straightish though. I can't remember the last time I had such long hair.

Of course it is way too hard to keep all straight and cute though. I just keep flippin and flickin it around like a teenager! I may darken it a bit more...and keep it in the normal loose curls.

Anyway...Les and I had a lovely playdate yesterday. We made some Scrappy Katz - I saw them in a Cloth Paper Scissors Mag (they were called Gypsy Cats) a few months ago. SO I felt I should cut out a bunch of elements (head, arms, legs, bodies) and we would just play and embellish them, rough and ready, using heavyweight fabrics, uglies and textures.

Les has two more at home...hers are orange and a lovely brown wool tweed.

We had a good time. I can feel I will definitely make more of these.

Back to work today..back to the ward! OMG I'm gonna be tired!!!!!!

The lurgy is lurking, and I don't feel quite bad enough to call off sick, but I really hope I'm not contagious, handling all those women and babies. I hate to call in sick, I'd rather work than be off feeling awful. I am looking forward to seeing all the lovely ward midwives. Its certainly very hustle and bustle on my ward!

Have a good Thursday!

In further news...

2009-05-29T20:47:00.008+08:00

Look what's finished, and heading to Victoria tomorrow.

I'm really thrilled with it. Its the first really scrappy quilt I have made. There are more than 55 different fabrics in it.

This is Lesley on the phone to Frogdancer having a phone blogmeet the other night. We'd just put the binding on and Les had started the first stitches to turn the binding.

While we were on the phone to Frogdancer she told us Jaryd went to Canberra this week to meet the Prime Minister and to speak to primary schools in the ACT about the impact of the fires on someone his age. Unfortunately some place callled North Korea decided to explode a bomb somewhere and the PM was unable to meet Jaryd, but he did meet a minister or two. He told them and the schoolchildren about the blogging community and the support he and his family had received, along with the support from the rest of Australia through many appeals etc.

This quilt started back in early February when Victoria in eastern Australia experienced the terrible fires that wiped out whole communities. Frogdancer knew someone, Judy, who had lost everything. She and her son were wiped out. House, clothes, books, homework, guitar...the lot.

Frogdancer asked her readers if they had spare copies of books that a 17 year old avid reader might need to restock his library. Books turned up from all over the country.

I didn't have any books Jaryd was interested in but my stash was certainly good for a quilt. I'm really enjoying sharing my non-perishables lately, and the stash is , ahem, quite substantial, so I can't even see where its been taken from.

Frogdancer had more than 65 fabrics in her quilt bundle I sent her. It turns out Jaryd's Mum has that quilt now...which is really great. Widget has about 20 fabrics in the back of her quilt. See Frogdancer's quilt extravaganza page for photos. I'm tickled to think of them being together. I wonder if the quilts will recognise each other as coming from the same fabric stash stable?

I chose a stash of colours I thought he would like and set to work piecing the top. Les was en-route home after living in USA for 3 years, but was lined up to help with the basting and quilting.

There were a few hiccups along the way, but Les put the borders on it and finished the stars, then we basted it. Then Lesley quilted it. Then it got swore at a lot, and got a new back and basted again. Then it came to stay at my house, where it behaved much better, having learned its lesson in what happens to misbehaving quilts. Meek and mild, it submitted to quilting, then finally binding.

Lesley has just unpacked her Harry Potter complete set, and it is about to head to Jaryd along with the quilt.

Its the first big quilt I've made for ages, and has been a nice refresher for the big quilt I plan to make for next year.

Good little quilt. Your two mummies are very pleased with you now.
Off to Jaryd you go, keep him warm, and share a hug or two from us.

Shall we keep the door as a shade of green?

2009-05-29T20:31:00.003+08:00

Note the chunks of wood showing through the previously painted door frame.

After all the hassle and tears yesterday...I woke up this morning and decided I didn't hate it after all.

In fact, having almost gotten over the disappointment of having to paint the whole door frame again, we are quite tempted to paint the door a shade of green to tie in with the marble feature tile.

It will reduce some of the sterility and 'public toilet' nature of the expanse of white tiles and glass bricks. Although in the daylight, the glass bricks really make it.

High and dry and still out in the cold!

2009-05-28T19:08:00.003+08:00

I'm fuming.

I've been working every day since Tuesday. Its been a long and tricky week. I'll tell you about it when I calm down.

TODAY the door was finally installed. By pulling apart the frame that we had just painted with 4 coats of paint.

And putting crap all over the tiles that we have taken great pains to protect throughout painting.

And then the shower screen was installed unexpectedly, again with no-one home to supervise. Spreading more sealant and crap on the floor, in a shape I hadn't expected that means the shower head now seems to be pointing in the wrong direction. I can't even get any water onto the corner glass shelves to clean all the wood dust off them. I tried. Not knowing that I shouldn't be letting any water into the shower screen area due to silicon drying time until Saturday morning. Sigh.

No major damage except that there's a significant chip in one of the floor tiles right in the middle of the floor.

And there's still no glass in the door (raw green ), which still needs to be painted along with the frame - AGAIN!!!! When there is gloss enamel painting to be done or dried the bathroom cannot be used. Including the bath.

When I came home today the bathroom looked like a scummy shabby 10-year-old tiled disaster. with the door frame paint all ripped off and peeling - the carpenter has shifted the whole centre plate of the doorframe. I have told the bathroom contractor that he can stick the carpenter up his jaxie cos I'm not impressed with him at all. Tears were involved. I scrubbed and swept ( I can hear you laughing at the thought of me cleaning, stop it!) and rubbed at sealant crap and swore - a LOT.

I have few words to describe my fury at the waste of time, and the lack of sleep due to paint fumes, not to mention the fact that I am still showering outside in the cold wind (much to the cat's amusement this morning)

I am really over this.

Stitch by stitch

2009-05-26T17:55:00.003+08:00

Do I ....

A. Attend work 8-4 driving all over the metro area and flop in a heap at the end and watch the idiot box?

B. Contribute to the Painting of the Wonder Bathroom?

C. Stitch madly at the binding of Jaryd's quilt? (I love doing the binding)

D. Cook my family's dinner?

E. Try not to consume my bodyweight in chocolate at a sitting? (number of sittings may vary per day)

F. Combine all of the above?

Yeah...I thought so.

Photos to come.

Christening with bubbles

2009-05-23T12:39:00.013+08:00

Well, there was no-one home to take photos...but I had the first bath this morning. It was chucking down with rain and wind outside and I just couldn't face the outdoor shower. So I turned on the tap.....

It. was. gorgeous. The bath is HUGE. Plenty of length and breadth. And so deep!

It will never look this gorgeous again. The new green towels are now on the rails. And there are candles on the deep window sill.

We don't have a door yet. There's been a few carpentry errors. It has been promised for Monday. And the shower screen will be installed hopefully by the end of the week, so we can't yet take a shower but (I think) it looks wonderful.

We're (the favourite husband and I) painting architraves and the new cornices, and of course the ceiling. But on the whole...we're thrilled to bits with it. :) (Please forgive the squashy nature of the 'paragraphs' below - for some reason blogger won't allow better formatting)

Update...door on Tuesday/Wed now, and the shower screen is still not in either. So STILL showering outside in 3 degrees. I was right. It IS getting a bit old now. 4 full weeks and counting. Just a door would be nice so I could at least feel I could use the loo in privacy.

What have you been up to?

P.S. Apart from painting, plans for the weekend include finishing Jarryd's quilt, after a hiccup or two.

P.P.S. Went to see the movie Angels and Demons last night and unfortunately there were some sound glitches and the last 25 minutes of the film was without sound. We had piped muzac over the climax of the film, including Fleetwood Mac Rhiannon (taken by, taken by the wind, occurring at exactly the right spots surprisingly) the Star Wars theme as Ewan MacGregor was involved with some flames. We got freebies to return but I'm not sure I want to sit through it all again. 7/10. FRUSTRATING!

So busy (now with photos)

2009-05-17T18:32:00.003+08:00

Busy week! Work was good.

Seeing friends from (now) over East and meeting their new baby, Willow. Delightful!
Making a new bag. Very nice too. Great fun. I used some long stashed ingredients.
Attending afternoon tea for a friend. Delicious. She loved the bag.
Dinner party for friends. A great success.
Attending the craft fair. Stash building never goes out of style. Plans abound!

It seems I didn't win the raffle quilt. Sigh.

Bathroom nearing completion. All tiles applied. Oohs and ahs expressed by all visitors, especially after seeing the beautiful marble feature tile, which looks gorgeous after sealing.
This week will include: grouting, fittings, cornices, painting and finally...bathing!

Yay!

2009-05-13T14:56:00.002+08:00

Thought you may be interested to hear about this budget news as it affects the great majority of midwives in Australia in some form or another.

Australian College of Midwives MEDIA RELEASE
“Mothers and Midwives Budget winners”

“Today is an historic day for childbearing women and their families in Australia,” said Associate Professor Hannah Dahlen, National Media Spokespersons for the Australian College of Midwives.
“Not only has the Rudd Government made the welcome commitment to parental leave to better support families with newborn babies, but they have also provided for:
mothers to receive Medicare rebates for midwifery care,
access to PBS for midwives,
national collaborative maternity care guidelines,
increased access at state level to birth centres,
indemnity for midwives
measures to enhance the access of rural and remote women to maternity care as close as possible to their home community.

A national telephone support service for pregnant women and mothers of newborns
“These reforms will together make it much easier for women living anywhere in Australia – from the middle of our largest cities to remote communities - to access continuity of care by a known midwife” Assoc Prof Dahlen said. “They will also be vital in helping to close the gap on disadvantage for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander mothers and babies in partnership with Indigenous people themselves.”

Continuity of midwifery care involves a pregnant woman being cared for by a known midwife throughout her pregnancy, labour and birth. It also involves follow up care in the home for up to 6 weeks after the birth of the baby to provide professional support with the all important transition to parenting.

“This is not about substituting doctors with midwives” Assoc. Prof Dahlen said. “Obstetricians will, of course, continue to have a vital role in maternity care. Midwives providing continuity of care collaborate with obstetricians and allied health professionals throughout the episode of care, in response to the individual needs of each woman and her baby.”

Research evidence shows a range of benefits when women are cared for by known midwives from early in pregnancy till well after the birth. These include fewer admissions to hospital antenatally, less need for epidurals or for any pain relief, fewer episiotomies, more normal births, reduced need for their baby to be admitted to a special care nursery, more success with breastfeeding, and less vulnerability to postnatal depression or anxiety.
“Health Minister Nicola Roxon is to be commended for listening to Australian women during the recent national review of maternity services and for acting on the evidence that their needs could be better met with greater access to continuity of care by midwives, said Assoc Prof Dahlen

“These reforms pave the way for tens of thousands of women and their families to benefit from continuity of midwifery care while maintaining Australia’s solid record of safety for mothers and babies,” said Assoc. Professor Dahlen. “The confidence the government has expressed in midwives through these major reforms will be embraced by the profession around Australia.”

“Today the government has honoured women and motherhood in this country and recognised that ‘the hand that rocks the cradle’ does indeed ‘rule the world,’ and that we as a society need to support women and invest in the future– our children,” said Associate Professor Dahlen.

For further information contact the Australian College of Midwives www.midwives.org.au

Report card

2009-05-11T21:24:00.003+08:00

The bathroom now has some black floor tiles. Tomorrow there will be some plain gloss white wall tiles. The feature tile of cut green marble chips was sealed today (stinky and sticky work). It looks FABULOUS!!!!!!!! The colour is divine. I'm very excited. It will be another week or so until he is all finished, then the ceiling and door must be painted. Luckily the weather is holding and the outdoor shower (hot) is not palling yet.

Mother's Day was had. I have a lovely double yellow hibiscus in a large pot. I will try not to kill it. The gardener (not me) has made a similar vow. I arranged a picnic at Matilda Bay for my family. Some of them came. Long story. Food was eaten, photos were dutifully taken (but not yet uploaded). The Bag was much admired. No comment was made, or the 'feature' even noticed by the recipient. The lining was a special hit. Contractual obligation met. Tick.

My husband chivvied one of my offspring into delivering breakfast in bed. I walked past my hibiscus and the cards 9 times before they were actually proffered towards me. Sigh. One of them had other plans for lunch that involved playing cards, with like minded men. I cooked the picnic lunch, texted everyone madly to arrange a meeting point and tried not to cry that my family will never all be together again. It was all quite pleasant in the end, if smaller than I had pictured. Everyone brought their manners, which is not always guaranteed. Long story.

I went home and had a nap. No, not just a nap, an excellent nap. Dinner of lamb chops was cooked by the guys (now home from playing cards) and I watched some TV before retiring to bed and reading the last of the 4th Twilight book, which series I have just enjoyed re-reading.
I am now reading a charming midwifery memoir set in London's East End in the 1950s.

Today I have cut out a bag for a friend's birthday next weekend. Much planning involved. I also plan to give her a lovely vintage frock that I just know will suit her beautifully. She's having a rough time lately, and needs a boost.

Its only 5 weeks until we go to Europe. EEEKKKKKKKKK! DO I have the right shoes to stomp around Amsterdam?

Ah, the perpetual question....and I'm lovin it!

Where has the midwifery content gone, I hear you ask? Well, to be honest I barely feel like I have been at work lately, but I promise there will be some soon.

I did save a baby from a sticky name last week. It was an entirely culturally appropriate name for this little girl...but I'm sure her parents wouldn't have willingly named their daughter anything that sounded remarkably like "Shitty", even if it didn't look like that when written down. I carefully broached the subject, and made the comparison for them, clarifying the implications. They were very practical about it, and quite horrified at the near disaster. Phew. Welcome baby Lakshmi, nice name!

In other news on the naming responsibilities faced in the world..... I really look forward to hearing what twin boys 'Lefty' and 'Righty' resolve into when they are named by their sweet parents.

Be good, or good at it!

Blogging bliss

2009-05-07T14:48:00.008+08:00

My favourite husband has an old laptop. He spent hours last night configuring it so I could use it instead of the limping desktop. Internet, printer, email - you name it. Sigh. He is my favourite (and only) husband. I still keep automatically reaching for the mouse, but I'll get used to it.

The bathroom is proceeding fabulously. Ooh, hang on, I'll see if I can get some photos off the camera.....talk amongst yourselves.......Done.

For the first few days after demolition I felt like I was seeing a maiden aunt naked. It just didn't seem quite right, too exposed, like I was looking up her dress. We can even see into the roof space throught the exposed cornices.

Before -the old timber cabinet and window. This frame was incredibly solid.

View from outside as the window is enlarged.

After - 3rd row down, second from the right. Laid by yours truly.

The bath in position. It was bricked in today.

Now don't show Mum...but here's the bag I've made for her for Mother's Day. I hope she likes it, it looks a little more sombre than I expected. The lining fabric is really lush. When I photographed the bag at night there seems to be an angry person hiding among the big pattern central to the bag. Can you see it when you squint? Tell me NOW if you think it is a bad omen and I shouldn't give it to her....I'm not kidding. I'm on days off now. I'll still have time to make a different one.

The kids indulged me and allowed me to take some photos on Tuesday. I'm quite pleased with them. The snootiest cat in the world was even restrained briefly to pretend to be a real cat.

Today Stephanie has had some minor surgery. It is her first operation in about 5 years (and her 18th one) and she was not looking forward to it, but was really brave. The anaesthetist was very kind and understanding (and well briefed) and it went well. She slipped off to sleep briefly, and all the scary stuff was done while she was asleep. She was back with me within an hour, with a bandage on her arm where the stitches are. Hopefully that pesky mole will be benign, but its best to be safe!

Our anniversary dinner was lovely. We went to a French place in Nedlands, old and family owned. Wonderful food and terrific service. Only one small glitch, a freebie appetiser of seafood bisque cappucino! Served in a little espresso cup with foam on top! It looked cute, but unfortunately tasted vile. We both love seafood bisque normally, but the balance was really off. I mean really off. All the stuff from the prawn and lobster heads that one normally ...washes out... was obviously left in there and had flavoured the bisque much too heavily, so basically it tasted like....well...the stuff you would normally wash out. We had one sip, nearly gagged, and pushed it aside. We sent it back. The rest of the meal was superb. Utterly superb. Highly recommended.

I've also made another Wild Woman (in yellows and orange) for someone special. No, you can't peek.

Lesley and I are nearly finished Jarryd's quilt. If I'm not remaking a bag this weekend (cough, but seriously, tell me if I need to) I'll be stitching on the binding. Then it will be off!

The outdoor showers are going well, the coldest morning has only been 9C, so not too bad so far. Everyone is still enjoying it.

Woo-hoo! Days off and a quilt to finish, craft to do and a bathroom to enthuse about! See ya!

Happy..everything

2009-05-05T16:57:00.004+08:00

Its International Midwives' Day.

And our 24th wedding anniversary.

We're going out for dinner tonight.

I took some great photos of the kids just now....I'll have to load them and show you later...still borrowing other people's computers (sigh).

We've got a bath in today. And a spout. And pipes from all the walls in the right spots. And drainage pipes. And a glass block window. I even put one of the glass blocks in myself.

Photos to come. If I can be patient about it, so can you.

Many stories to tell from a very eventful first few days on visiting midwife duty. Cute babies. Lovely Mums, Dads and families. Did I mention cute babies?

My back is not good. Not at all. Very dodgy for the last week or so. Just what you need when driving all over and hauling bags and scales everywhere. Not aided by having a solid fall from a tiny wall yesterday. Don't ask. I'm just glad no-one had a camera on me. Thank God for woodchips, and no roses. Legs in the air, shoes, hair and bag everywhere. Half-in, half-out of the garden bed. What a dork. Luckily no real damage done.

I hope to have the computer dramas sorted in the next week. Who needs a bank balance?

My Make it in May is progressing quite well. I have done a bit of clay sculpting, made a bag, cut out some other stuff for another. Can we count thinking about things? Planning stuff? I've had a great idea for a Masters thesis! Today my blog posting may count as my creation. Its writing innit?

Ciao for now

Oh My

2009-05-01T08:41:00.004+08:00

We apologize for interruptions to this service...

It seems my computer is dying. GULP. (quells panic). I really hate seeing 'dumping core memory' blue screens and endless loop messages. sigh.

Typing on daughter's computer. Off to call Dell.....

Alfresco living

2009-04-29T09:53:00.010+08:00

Well, the bathroom renovation has begun.

Here's some 'before' shots.

Yesterday while I was at work the bathroom was gutted.

I called Stephanie at lunchtime to get a progress report and her exact words were "Oh. My Freakin. God - Mum, its amazing". LOL. She had been charged with taking photos of the progress, so some of these were taken by her.

It turns out that this was not the original bathroom as I had thought. There was green wet-area plaster uncovered under the tiles, so it must have been re-done in the early 1960s, when it was around 15 years old.

There were two burly young men, smashing and crashing, belting apart a very solid cast iron bath and wheelbarrowing it out to the skip.

By the time I got home they were removing rubble by the barrow load. The floors are covered and holding up ok so far.

The builder/plumber had plumbed us a new outdoor hot/cold shower on the external wall outside the laundry, so its alfresco freshening up for us for the next 2-3 weeks! Of course we also have the laundry and loo indoors.

This is where I had my shower this morning at 7am. It was light outside and 14 degrees. It was fun. Don talked to me through the laundry window.

It may get a bit old by the end, but we'll survive. (edited to add, in fact we are all enjoying it. Our son who is quite bohemian is very enthusiastic about standing naked in the backyard under the moonlight, and the cat was very curious last night to see Steph in the shower after swimming. She - the cat- walks on the wall and is most intrigued. I saw a plane fly over this morning!)Its quite private, but we've hung a few curtains anyway, just in case.

The skip is nearly full of rubble, but before we began it was half-full of black bags full of leaves!!!!!! Some scumbag neighbour had decided it would be appropriate to dump 11 bags of leaves in our waiting skip over the long weekend. Grrr. WHAT A NERVE!!!!! As I was standing next to it today with the plumber, discussing this crime someone set off down the lane on a bike (in all their wanky lycra) and grinned and waved. It was either a). The culprit rubbing it in, or b). someone I did know and would be happy to wave to....in which case I hope their bike didn't actually develop a flat tyre, or their lycra shorts split down the ass seam while they were in heavy traffic (as that was what I was wishing them in the event that it was the culprit). Ahem. The young guys had to remove it all, because they are not allowed to have mixed rubble and green waste in the style of skip we have. Like they needed the extra work involved in that!

In other news...Look at what was safely delivered to my house yesterday! It is an original art piece in paint and paper made for me by Kel of Taurus Rising. It was her blogaversary about 6 weeks ago and I won my choice of prize. The choices included an art piece, so she custom made it for me. She framed it and everything! It has a cut up egg/oval shape with an eye/uterus/hidden chamber with an embryonic woman in it. It is most intriguing. (ooh, Kel has added a helpful comment explaining it better). It fits into a little niche for now - I promise I'll find somewhere better to hang it when I re-organize/curate the artwork soon. Where it is currently is a bit hard to photograph, but I wanted it up immediately and safely out of the way of the workmen, but somewhere I can look at it and absorb it. I keep finding new layers in it already. Thanks so much Kel!

And for my final trick...I've decided to have some creative fun next month (in my spare time) and attempt to take part in 'Every day in May'. Its some Flickr group...Oh...here ya go http://www.flickr.com/groups/everydayinmay/ . The concept's apparently been going for a few years...I may fail...but what the hey! Its a good excuse to get crafting more solidly again. I have a few projects planned and I'm sure the rest will evolve as the month unfolds.

But don't hold me to it....

Reprieve

2009-04-21T21:57:00.003+08:00

The bathroom demolition doesn't start until Tuesday now.

That means we don't have a gaping hole and a useless bathroom in the house over the long weekend! Phew!

Had a long and tiring day at work today, but ultimately rewarding. A very nice baby, after a big, big effort. A catch for my student midwife even though it technically was a lift out vacuum. The consultant was really nice and just got the head barely out then brought the student midwife in and together we helped her to draw out her first baby, including delivering the placenta. She was stoked.

A job for everyone. Most days intimacy is the only way to go. Today many hands made light work. I don't often feel that way about birth in a hospital setting, but today I feel I made some good collaborative calls, following thorough assessments, and it was a good result. I held my ground on a few things and my position was respected, and invited collaboration when I needed a second opinion. No-one was over the top about anything, and it was really harmonious and positive, if a little more crowded than we originally planned, before things took their own path.

Contrast this with the birth I had a week ago in the birth centre where it was really intimate and private. The first time I have ever deliberately been solo with a woman at birth (there was another midwife outside the door ready to come in if assistance was called for, I only had to squeak). It was a big responsibility, for that first minute when I was waiting for the baby to establish some convincing breaths while I gently rubbed her and 'called her in'. All was well, as I knew it would be, but it was a small test, and A Big Moment for me.

And now a few days off for me...baby number fifty is just around the corner.

I love being a midwife.

Running, running

2009-04-20T17:52:00.004+08:00

No, not on the Wii.

At work, at home, OMG bathroom reno starts in 2 days.

TWO days people!

Pest control, delivery of the bathroom suite stuff, working (having a lovely time, next baby is number 50!!!!!), being home to receive said stuff, kid coming home from 5 days away and to be picked up, lunch with girls, pack up the bathroom and prepare for 2-3 weeks of outdoor (with hot water) showers, go see Dylan Moran, swap shifts to go to stuff....

Its all go. Gotta love you and leave you...

Mwah x

Miaow

2009-04-15T08:46:00.002+08:00

Apparently I'm a bulldog.... with the following qualities:

You may look like the troublemaker of the pack, but it turns out your tough guy mug is worse than its bite. You're really a softie, loyal to your friends and family and A-OK with meeting new pooches, but you prefer to do so with a high-five instead of a paw-shake. Proud of your great sense of humor, you've got a whole litter of jokes you draw from to keep the mood playful and the positive energy alive. A perfect afternoon for you involves a leisurely stroll with a pal, followed by a little downtime in an easy chair with a frosty can of brew and a remote control within easy fetching distance. You shed accusations of being lazy, knowing perfectly well that you're kenneling the energy you might need for... well... something.

Not bad, for a cat person.

Wild times

2009-04-10T09:30:00.008+08:00

Phew - where has the last week gone?

I am back on LBS now for a short time and it has been extremely absorbing. I've resuscitated two babies, one born at term and a bit stunned, and the other a prem following CS who had suffered placental abruption. I've cared for a succession of primips who have laboured with amazing strength and determination. All have achieved vaginal birth, one by the skin of her teeth - but she was the first of her sisters to do so - the rest have all had CS. She was rapt, and was sitting up in bed with a grin on her face when I saw her the next day. I helped her to attach her baby who went on well - it was also a first for the family as her sisters felt unable to breastfeed after their experiences.

We have all been moved by meeting a young woman earlier this week who birthed alone at home unexpectedly. She presented to us in a bit of a daze with a baby in her arms, and proceeded to become very unwell within hours and ended up needing extensive treatment for high blood pressure. I will never forget her or her lovely son. She was a pleasure to care for and we all felt very protective of her, and celebrated her birthday the next day with cake in intensive care!

I had a lovely birth last night at the end of the shift. Third baby, looked a bit dodgy on trace as she was overdue, induction, meconium - sailed out and was vigorous once we got all the cord off from around her neck and body! The woman laboured fantastically, only looked fussed for the last 10 minutes. A beautiful birth kneeling at the end of the bed, then jumped into her clean unused bed whereupon baby saddled up for a long feed immediately. Perfect.

I have done some compulsory in-service training, and had my performance appraisal - it felt like a big assignment I had due! I have yet to finish the quite extensive breastfeeding component but that will be done soon, once I have minutes out of the way again. I have even caught up with my mentee.

I have wrapped up my sessions with the counsellor for now. I feel I am in a good place but it was well worth seeing her for a while for a tune-up.

In addition to multiple work engagements there have been birthdays, and dinners and I am getting stirred by the thought of our upcoming travel and some creative pursuits.

It was my sister's birthday last Monday and she had requested a Wild Woman so I set to work to meet her request for a greenish one with surface detail. This is April.
My sister plans to put her in a box frame. (for the record, WW are all around 4 1/2 inches tall)

April is the latest in a series of WW I have been working on behind the scenes. This one has been a WIP for a while, but I'm fairly sure she is finished now. Her name is Magnon. I love her encrusted dome and translucent face, and earthy feet.

The next is a flibberty-gibbet. She's quite young I feel. Her name is Nymph, she tells me. She seems to be emerging from a sweet pea bud. I'm not sure yet if she is fully formed but she insisted on being photographed with the others nonetheless. I bow to her wishes.

For the last of my craft show and tell I introduce my Midwife Warrior. I made her about 3 years ago. She came to me in a meditation, similar to No More Plain Jane,(pictured towards the end of the post) in fact it was also on a journalling weekend.
In the meditation we were moving to a chakra spirit trance piece Did you realize I liked that sort of thing? I don't get to do it very often but I feel amazing when I do. Anyway...we were dancing with our eyes shut, feeling whatever it was that came, and I was swaying quite broadly, slowly, side to side. I had an image of being in a group and swaying in a square-like fashion facing the 4 winds in turn, protecting something behind me. I felt strong, solid and sheltering like an elephant. Once I had turned all ways, in a distant corner I had a sense of a woman dressed in white trailing robes billowing as if in a breeze. She felt strong and purposeful and immmensely wise. I breathed in her presence and absorbed such a feeling of calm connectedness. We were brought back to the room by the facilitator speaking quietly, urging us to move to our workspaces and to write or draw what came to us. Later that day we learned how to take a flat piece of cloth and shape it and bind it and wrap it and let it speak to us as it connected with or meditation. Mine became the woman in white.
She has ended up with a pregnant belly, and breasts. And is anatomically suggestive of a birthing woman. She has amethysts for wisdom and emotional healing. She has a patchwork papoose on her back to carry her babe. She has rose quartz and butterflies. She has bandolier style embellishments to guard herself and those she protects. She has flowing white robes. She has a carved bone elephant hanging from one arm. I've since found out that female elephants do stand in a circle with their backs to the labouring female to protect her from predators in all directions. Howzat?!!!! She has an ancient chinese coin to symbolise wisdom. She has a carved wooden owl for wisdom and a nursing symbol. She carries a beacon in her right hand because as a new midwife I was being 'passed the torch'. She is a warrior for midwifery, for women. One of her most poignant touches is the lighthouse charm around her neck - a friend brought it to be part of the art supplies that weekend, and it was then that I realised that I was the lighthouse. It was about me spilling light into the world. It was the perfect finishing touch to her.

So there you have it. I am feeling light-filled at the moment.
It is good to be in this place.

Happy Easter to you all.

Wii are exercising

2009-04-03T10:16:00.003+08:00

Who'd have thought?

I have always refused to buy a major game console for my family (hears pin drop in the shocked silence). No, truly.

They were just coming out when my kids were little and my son showed a w-a--a-ay too slavish a fascination with them. I was quite sure that if I allowed one in my house I would never see anything of him but the back of his head, and have to wait until a pause in the game to a. feed him b. dress him. c. take him to school d. do anything without involving a major WW3.

So I refused. We would rent one as a special treat for his birthday parties, for the weekend, with his mates all sleeping over and playing multiplayer games of role playing, bang-em-up, shoot-em-up, hedgehog racing, coin collecting, barrel smashing, sword fighting etc. Then it would go back to the shop and I wouldn't have to deal with it on a daily basis.

My Mum bought him a Game Boy when he was 11, but he never had very many games because it was all too expensive and I had a small anti-global-corporation protest thing going on (do you think I have made Nintendo think twice about their anti-discounting policies? No I thought not, moral superiority notwithstanding).

Anyway, my kids used the computer freely, and played their various PC games which were all similar in their levels of violence, but I felt I could turf them off at any time with ease, and set appropriate time limits, which they have always accepted. My son graduated from Warcraft to Magic the Gathering, which used his brain slightly more and is a pastime he enjoys to this day. Steff is still engrossed with HSM, Harry Potter and now Twilight, and is pretty slavish about her Sims on her own laptop. She also got a DS a year or so ago, and buys her own games. We went on quite happily, having reached a compromise about people's lives not being dominated by game consoles.

Until... someone's birthday present was a game console. They nearly died of shock! But all squealed with delight.

I caved and bought a Wii. Essentially for the Wii Fit (if I'm honest). I wanted an interactive non-couch potato game that gave some opportunity for Steff in particular to add some physical activity to her life. And I thought it may give me a chance to add some too.

The assessment was a bit galling, but I am surprised to find it estimates my age as only 4 years older than I am. My BMI is of course extreme. Steff's assessment is a bit shocking as hers puts her at my age! But her BMI is underweight. Patty and Don are also a little over their age, but not by much. It was funny to watch Patty try some upper body work last night - he piked out on the second repetition of ten, and the trainer noticed he had gone away, she tried to bring him back but he went to bed! Don tried it out this morning and is intrigued by the possibilities and the goal setting - I can tell.

And I'm enjoying it too! Some tasks are easier than I thought, and we nearly wet ourselves laughing when I scored 100 on a few tasks first up and was told I was no stranger to exercise! Snort!

I used to be a professional dancer. Seriously. I stopped dancing because I had rheumatoid arthritis/fibromyalgia and I couldn't stand the pain any more. And I was bored with being a 'dumb blonde' and wanted to go back to uni and use my brain. I studied, got married, had a kid, got a new body, tried to dance again but felt really self-conscious of my wobbly bits. Then I had a second child and had a very different life to focus on. Then in my thirties I took up belly dancing and was inspired all over again, but it was an expensive hobby, and quite competitive, and I had other priorities and gradually stopped performing. My weight went up and up. Then down, then up. I went back to uni to eventually become a midwife. In year 2 of 6 years at uni I hurt my back. I am 'not allowed' to dance again. My surgeon would have kittens! Not at this weight, he said. He didn't even want me nursing, but I told him it was not negotiable.

I miss the physicality of dancing. The strength and grace. The dressing up and performing. I still have the posture and balance (mostly) but I am keenly aware of the loss of flexibility and range of motion, especially over the last 6-7 years since the serious back injury and surgeries. The daily pain in most joints continues. I can barely reach my toes to do my toenails, much less lay my head on my knees as I used to with ease.

I joined the gym at work. My assessment there showed I still had some good core strength and balance, the trainer was very surprised that despite my high BMI I could balance easily on the yoga ball and was relaxed doing it. He set me some exercises to do that accounted for my crook back and shoulder, and knees, and hips, and then wished me luck. I still pay a minimal fee but haven't been for a year or more, I kinda lost interest being by myself. I was anticipating using it for the showers when our bathroom is being renovated!

With the Wii, its kind of interesting to have a 'personal' gym and trainer, and it is focused on encouragement. But I was surprised to find myself keen to do it again this morning, only 12 hours after my last session! I work up a sweat doing a range of activities, trying most things over 30 minutes. I'm only competing against myself, but I am already seeing how to improve my scores - it seems I am quite motivated by improvement - aren't we all?

So now we all have little icon people who attend daily training at the Wii Fit channel. Day 2 and counting. After all my objections and principles, wouldn't it be hilarious/ironic if this a game console could return me to some semblance of fitness, and be the start of a new phase?

20 years ago

2009-03-30T09:39:00.003+08:00

This time twenty years ago I had started contracting after my waters were broken carefully, so no cord slipped through. The doctor was trying to induce me at 41 weeks and 2 days, but the baby was having none of it (below, 38 weeks, with my son, and friends)

I laboured all day, then when assessed at 3 pm-ish was not very dilated, but more effaced. Having had a v-e-r-y long latent phase with my first child I agreed to having some syntocinon put up to get things moving. I had a shower first, put on my favourite pink parrot earrings, then held out my arm for an IV and labour began again. I agreed to intermittent monitoring and refused to get on the bed at all.

Two hours and 16 minutes later...there she was. (above, 8 minutes of age, yes that is a Janet Jackson moment) A daughter, how delightful, a pigeon pair. A bit different (above, aged 6 months) a new experience for us, but our much wanted second child. (below - First day at school aged nearly 7, brother aged 10)

And now she is 20. We are so proud of her (below, taken this morning, aged 20)

Happy birthday darling.

Granny love

2009-03-29T08:15:00.003+08:00

Did I show you the granny square crochet rug I found?

Its a biggish lap size, not quite single bed size. I just love it.

Nearly done

2009-03-29T07:58:00.006+08:00

I've been working steadily on Jarryd's quilt this weekend.

It's looking good! It's even got some lighthouses on it!Lesley can have it for quilting soon...(edited - GONE!)

Asking the question

2009-03-22T10:30:00.005+09:00

I've had a very full few days at work. Steadily busy, but not madly so, yet the women I have seen have been so interesting.

I do like meeting women. And men. I s'pose I just like people really.

We've had students through, as is common in any area, but this time I have more actively been seeking them out and keeping them company. I am beginning to feel I could show them stuff, finally, after a few years in the field.

One of my objectives for working in clinics was to gain experience in abdominal palpation. I'm very pleased to feel I have gained confidence in this skill. I have picked up a number of breech lying babes, a few transverse, and become more confident in understanding attitude - i.e. the full position the baby is lying in, including head positions. Phew. Filling in the gaps. It feels good.

I have also wanted to better understand antenatal education given at the visits, and the tests at various stages, and I think I have got that down now. I'm not fast at it, but I understand it much better. I had visits with interpreters, both in person and via the telephone, adolescents, first timers, and grand multips, new migrants from other counties or new settlers from other states in Australia. We track down results from everywhere, even different time zones across the world. It is quite astounding how many phone calls we make and questions we ask over the course of a clinic session.

Some of questions we ask are the hard ones. Domestic violence. Depression screening. Any history of unwelcome sexual contact. This last one is often difficult to broach, and I confess we don't ask it of everyone, although we are alert to the possibility of it in any woman we see.

This week I have referred two women to our psychology services for raised depression screening scores with positive answers to questions of thoughts of self-harm in the last week. I'm so pleased we have these services so readily available. They are vital supports for vulnerable women. One teenager, in a very difficult position, was especially in need and I was hopping from foot to foot as I waited for the clin psych to be free. She was seen within 20 minutes, and will be followed up with a psychiatrist and a visiting midwife for adolescents and social workers and will hopefully be feeling much safer, more stable and supported soon. She was really brave, very private and reserved but clearly in a bad place, and feeling there was 'no happy place'. Poor kid.

Another woman I didn't refer set off all sorts of alarm bells as we had a chat. She was clear that she was going to try breastfeeding again (this was her second child) but that she would not be putting the child to the breast. No thankyou, its not my thing, my body is private and I don't like people touching it. (ding-a-ling-ding), No, I don't want to be referred to a psychologist even though I have a history of postnatal depression and I was medicated but took myself off it because my depression is not related to my baby (ding-a-ling-ding), yes I have a long-standing history of depression, no I don't discuss my depression with my family, they've got enough to be coping with (ding-a-ling-ding), I'm alright. I don't want anyone touching me (she wants a vaginal birth after CS last time) (ding-a-ling-ding). I took a deep breath.

Hmm. Many of the things you're telling me make me wonder... Have you ever experienced unwelcome sexual contact? Perhaps in the past?

She dropped her eyes and with a deep sigh made a decision to break her silence....

She had never told her mother, a former heroin user, because so many people would end up 'down there' she said, indicating a low level with a horizontal wave of her hand. It would tear my family apart. Maybe one day when some people were dead she would tell her family, but for now she chooses to keep it to herself to protect the greater whole. He is still around. She sees him frequently. She never discusses it with him. It stopped, she doesn't know why. She doesn't think it happened to her younger sisters, or is happening to anyone in her circle now. It wasn't her fault. Or his probably. He was not right in the head. But it stopped and she was content to leave it alone. Let sleeping dogs lie. She would only struggle and get all stirred up if she allowed herself to think about it. I've never told anyone else apart from my partner, and two friends, she said, through tight lips and with raised eyebrows as if unable to believe she was telling me now. But she was determined that she did not want any intervention or referral, and to leave it alone.

I was not surprised. She asked what had made me ask the question. I explained the signs I had seen in her tough, fiercely independent and private defence system. Most brick walls are not so high, or so tough. These kind of walls are built extra strong for a reason. A good reason.

We tossed around some of the connections and ramifications of her experiences. I joined a few dots, she joined a few, and we acknowledged her survival. Her choices. But it was important that she knew that she was not alone in her walled community. I reminded her that we had people who were able to support her if she wanted to knock out a few bricks in the wall.

One wonders about the ability of young women living these tightly wound and edgy lives to grow a well nourished baby to term. Last time her baby was small and growth restricted and she ended up with a CS due to concerns about the prem baby's ability to cope with labour. I'm not sure what her chances are like to achieve a VBAC this time around. Labour will not be pleasant, and she will be quite challenging to care for, as women pursuing VBAC are closely monitored, and vaginal examination will be extremely threatening for her. I hope she is able to labour well at home and stay away from the hospital for a good while, and arrives almost ready to push. And that the midwives pick up the subtext of her behaviour and are able to leave her alone as much as possible. And that her baby is better grown than the last one and able to cope well with labour. That's a lot to hope for.

Lesley says hi

2009-03-19T16:50:00.002+09:00

Just a quick post to pass on a message from Lesley of Chapter III .

She says to say a big hello to all, and to say that she has moved into a FABULOUS rental house this week, and the internet will be connected on April 3rd. She is well, and has had a trying week or so and can't wait to get back to her computer and bloglife.

I spent the day with her today and she is enjoying settling in and unpacking (a bit) in the house - it really is a great house. The main stuff will hopefully arrive by mid-April. She has lots to tell you all, but I'll let her do that.

I'm as busy as a bee, but was thrilled to have demolished heaps of my to-do list by 8.45am!!!

I was gobsmacked. It helps when you are phoning (twice) the east coast which is 2 hours ahead. But it left me free to get to Les earlier than I'd hoped.

She is living behind where my paternal grandmother used to live. Grandma died when I was 15. Yet today I was near her house, and when Les and I were out driving I saw a very early model Ford Escort, same colour, similar rego to the one she drove at the end of her life. I think she was with me today...somehow.

Off to a meeting now...more minutes.... :(

See ya

Lighthouse love

2009-03-15T15:10:00.012+09:00

Look what I found in a market today!

A set of cups and saucers with lighthouses on them! Just lighthouses! No extra nautical nonsense, just pure lighthouses and a bit of sunshineyness.I'm delighted with them. Don is shaking his head "where are we going to put those? We don't need any more cups and saucers, we don't use the ones we have now.....moan, whinge, rue"

Honey...its not about the drinking implements.

Look, there're four different ones- red, green, blue and PURPLE! LustAnyway, I just remembered I owe you a post about the Cape Naturaliste lighthouse. This lighthouse was completed in 1905, and manned until (um I've forgotten, but I think it was 1980 or so).

There were 3 lighthouse keepers and their families here, with a house each (one of them pictured above). They worked in shifts around the clock with jobs at the top and the bottom to be completed each 20 minutes. Pumping fuel up to the light, and rewinding the clockwork mechanism to keep it rotating, that was limited by the height of the tower. Sheesh!

This very accessible lighthouse is not too tall, which means we can all climb to the top without too much effort It was very windy. The flag was straining at the leash. There is a remote weather station inside which records wind gusts experienced at the lighthouse. It peaked at 33 knots while we were there. The interior is a round room with a spiral staircase leading to only two upper levels. The views and angles were pretty enticing to photograph. The walls were REALLY thick, and the windows offered interesting glimpses of the surroundings. On the first floor, we saw the turning mechanism for the lens, with a heavy mercury base for stability and glide. There were glimpses of the lens as it rotated above our heads. We saw it every 10 secs and it was really hard to get a shot of it.... Nope... Nope, missed it again...see what I mean? Ah, at least that one was a little more in focus. Then we went up to the next level. Here we had a chance to go out onto the exterior platform. It was REALLY windy. Steff was worried she'd blow away so she stayed inside when it was time to go outside on the upper railing.
I didn't have that concern...

South Africa is thataway.

Once again the shots of the rotating lens were hard to resist taking, even if they don't mean much. (Am I boring you? You had to be there I suppose). They keep the lens rotating 24/7 so the powerful lens doesn't focus the suns rays and set fire to the lighthouse.

When I came back inside I realized that every 10 secs there was the most amazing sequence of rainbows being flashed intermittently on the wall from the prisms above. Could I capture the best of them?

Nope....

Nope.... 27 shots later I gave up. Honest...there was a really broad one that was dazzling. We headed downstairs. They shine the brass railing every day...I was impressed...I was reluctant to leave. It was so compelling. I'm so glad I went.

I'm off to have a cup of tea now....I think I'll use the purple one.

There but for the grace of God...

2009-03-13T19:17:00.007+09:00

Busy week.

An unexpected shift on LBS on Wednesday instead of clinics. I had a very busy shift, a challenging shift. I am looking forward to returning there at the end of the month.

One of the challenges was working with a woman with significant drug issues. She was stable, and had birthed already when I met her, but it really gave me an insight into the chaos and consequences of her lifestyle.

Her teenaged children were present following the birth, and were quite loud, and demanding but were obviously keen to be there and to see their new sister. Dad was there too, and her Mum, and then her brother-in-law, his wife, her kids, another friend all turned up and could barely be persuaded to leave while she was being sutured up. They hung around outside her room (not ideal) and were just...really LOUD. The 14 year old daughter was all whiny and demanding "Mum said i could bath her first, when can we bath her, i want to pick out her clothes, how much does she weigh? Blah blah, blah" Her 13 year old brother was all "she's prettier than you Sis" then Sis would whine and protest to Mum....am I painting a picture?

The woman was trying to referee from the bed, Nanna was all "I'm gonna take this baby back to Melbourne with me, she's so cute" It was pretty full on. I was completely over them all within half an hour. The woman was paranoid about her teenagers not walking with the baby so would yell at them if they twitched on the lounge with her. In the end I suggested we weigh the baby and do her top-to-toe check. Everyone agreed that would be a lovely thing to see.

I brought the warmer over to near the woman - she declined to hold the baby for the check - and lowered the side so she could see more clearly. I usually talk through the check, doing an inventory of eyes, ears, etc, turning the baby gently from side to side and telling her how pretty she is and pointing out the features to all present. We examine the reflexes, the spine, and demonstrate the stepping reflex of the newborn, which is always entertaining. The last thing we do is a genital inspection and check for an anal wink - where we lightly touch the sphincter and expect to see a 'wink' reflex tightening, if the spinal reflexes are intact. Hers was a little buried in a crevice and I gently separated the cheeks to better see it. I also checked a dimple in her butt crack to check it had a bottom to it, not a hole through to the spinal space. It didn't, all was well. But while I was carefully doing this I forgot to talk and explain my actions.

The woman spoke really aggressively to me - hey, what are ya doing? That must hurt her! I stopped immediately and considered what I was doing, then realized it must look strange. I explained my actions very simply, and gave her the commentary I had omitted. Oh, thats alright then, she said. I see now. But I felt bad, and completely understood how it must have looked to her in those brief moments. Sometimes we don't know fully the background of a woman in our care, and I wondered if I had accidentally hit a sore spot, that made her especially protective.

I weighed the baby and, with her permission, dressed the baby in our clothes for now (to save family fights) and sent everyone out for some peace and quiet. I gave her the baby to cuddle for a while. She was really worried about some blood on the baby's head, and I imagine it was about blood-borne contaminants, although she never said this out loud. She was in pain, and fed-up, and exhausted and aggressive, but was so sweet with her new baby. She freaked out about every drop of blood, although I was completely unphased by it. I recognized the risks of exposure. We wear gloves for those aspects of care for every woman, this one was no different, but she and her family were really grossed out by every smudge. It was quite trying. I gave her as much pain medication as I could, and resolved not to be offended by her manner towards me.

I wouldn't want her life.

Not the stressful, demanding, anxious, whiny teenagers; not the addiction; not the prospect of bringing up another baby in those circumstances. I could see she was trying hard with behaviour management of the kids. She was trying to control so much it was bound to do anyone's head in. She snapped and bit readily, the next 3 hours with her d.r.a.g.g.e.d to be honest. She was proud, and had limited mobility, and hated being dependent. I offered small amounts of practical assistance in the tight spaces of the bathroom. It was a huge effort to get her showered, redressed, epidural out and transferred up to the ward. I was sweating bullets by the end. She had mountains of luggage, and was snapping at her partner to NOT carry it, No, the kids aren't carrying it either, she'll get a trolley (meaning me). I got the trolley from the other end of the ward, sagging in the sluice doorway as I asked the support staff to please, pretty please, locate a large trolley for All. The. Stuff. Soon.

After corralling the energetic entourage at the far end of the postnatal ward, I settled her in to her fresh new room, which she complained about (its too small, smaller than my other one - Actually they're all the same. I said evenly, Oh well, we'll just have to make do). She had found fault with so many trivial things that day. I wished her a speedy recovery, and I walked away from her, exhausted. The receiving midwife's brows were furrowing at the prospect of the remainder of the shift.

I returned to LBS, answered an assist bell and scribed for a brief emergency. I did a tea relief for another very challenging patient with specialised complex needs. Then after my dinner I received another woman who was to be induced. She was delightful and the rest of the evening was spent sorting out her very complex medical needs and 'doing the shopping' i.e. restocking the room so it was ready for anything.

I was pretty knackered but satisfied with a full day's work. I slept well that night.

I have learned alot in clinics and now have a much better idea of education and resources, tests, abdominal palpation at all gestations, depression screening, how the clinics run and results and charts get to people (doctors and women). I have had busy shifts and very quiet shifts. I have met many new midwife colleagues, and enjoyed meeting students and showing them around a bit. It has been a break from the madness and overwork of the ward. And I have had a chance to really become comfortable providing antenatal care, especially to women pursuing VBAC.

I was delighted last week to see a woman I met in January, who asked for me again on Friday. We had a great visit together. She was near term and I offered her a stretch and sweep to help things along. We took our time and her cervix felt very favourable and I was confident her pregnancy was nearing the last days. I was feeling really bubbly and excited for her, and showed it readily, which she thought was hilarious. She had a vaginal birth 24 hours later. It was really special to hear - I had a feeling she was in labour and called LBS - she was. I was as high as kite.

I look forward to sharing this with many other women. Of all walks of life. Even if they are challenging.

I love being a midwife.

Surfacing

2009-03-09T12:05:00.004+09:00

Do you want to hear about dentists?

I'm a bit over them myself currently, however nice they are. I'm having a lot of work done at the moment and Monday mornings are becoming a bit of a haze as I regain feeling in my face and jaw. My eyelid sensation was knocked off this morning for about an hour (that was interesting) but at least I didn't cry today. Don't ask. Just don't.

Lesley is back. It is indescribably good to know she is HERE. Within cooee. I have missed her so much, even with Skype and regular blog exchanges. She and Dave came for dinner on Saturday night and we talked and talked. It was a late night, a good night.

My sister is back from living in Melbourne too. We have seen each other on the last two weekends and done each other's hair (cut and colour each). Yesterday we went to the gluten-free foods and allergy expo. It was really worthwhile - except our two GF people didn't attend themselves - but we tried everything and had a good time. Her daughter and her have just returned after a 5 week RTW trip for auditions in USA, Europe and NZ - she was well received but unfortunately too short to join the Joffrey or the Canadian Ballet. What a life. One's career predicated not on prodigious talent but the gene pool that made her 5ft 3in. Anyway, it was a confidence boost to have some positive comments, after 4 years of the approval drought that is rampant in her national training establishment. She has returned to commence a teaching position in her old alma mater, and from all accounts has made a very promising start. Good for her.

I have recently read all four Twilight books. They were really great reads, and I'm delighted to have seen the film too, with a great cast. My daughter has also cottoned on to them and there has been a maturation of alliance from Harry Potter and Zac Effron to Robert Pattinson as Edward, whose large sultry photo has now joined the wall art above our girl's new double bed. We're thrilled to see her reading so much, apparently taking it in and finishing books much more easily than ever before, taking her work train journey as a starting point. Change is everywhere!

We have accepted a quote for the bathroom renovation. Gulp. Can't wait to see it finished. Hope I don't have night shift while it is in progress - could get ugly....although the builder is going to plumb an outdoor hot & cold shower for us to use, down the side of the house. Could be fun, and an unexpected bonus. We've decided to get a new bath too, rather than re-using the old one, and the new one is bigger and wider than the current one. Its gonna be soooo good.

If I can find a tame person to build the base for us, the pizza oven will be going ahead too. We've got some big limestone blocks from the new wall that can be used for the base, but they are too big and heavy for us to manage....I'm sure there's a capable young man out there who will be up for this small but heavy job.

The conference was really good, very interesting. Somehow there were only two midwives from our hospital present. Shrug. We heard some inspiring presentations and innovative solutions to long-standing problems, and I left with a bit of hope that things could change and that I could be part of the change. I am forming a clearer understanding of how to position myself to be part of these approaching changes. This of course ties in with my work with the College of Midwives. It was good to be part of a multi-strata, multi-disciplinary audience exchanging information about health systems, and although I wouldn't say it is my central raison d'etre in this field, it is very helpful to understand the bigger picture nationally and internationally. I was reminded that I used to work in this arena in the 1990s and I suddenly felt a return of confidence that came with my memory of 8 years work in this area. How could I have forgotten this grounding? It just shows how thoroughly my focus has changed since I entered as health professional. Wow. SO I have signed up to be part of a network looking at women's and newborns health policy and issues. In my spare time.

Jarryd's quilt is half pieced. Its coming along nicely, Lesley likes it. I aim to have it finished by late April.

I have hardly had time to read any bloglines daily lately, so there are 120+ when I get to it. Gulp! Maybe I should prune my subscriptions...

Planning our trip to Amsterdam, northern Italy and Paris in late June. Sigh :]. Lucky, lucky girl.

A pile of things to get done by then, starting....NOW.

See ya x

The getting of wisdom

2009-02-25T21:46:00.002+09:00

After my last stressed, sad-sack post this is a happier one.

A very wise midwife elder posted this today.

It says it all. Words to live by.

I'm surprised to note that RLS only lived to age 44. That means that by the time he reached my age he'd been dead for more than 3 years.

Not a bad life's work to leave behind. We should all be so lucky.

Lookin' through old stuff

2009-02-24T12:22:00.003+09:00

I am here. Not hiding, just thinking.

Starting some things and not finishing them. So many competing demands.

Completing some long-unfinished tasks.

Finished the advanced fetal assessment course and passed. Yay!

Struggling a bit with fragile hope. About many things.

Listening, loving, waiting. Feeling.

Uncovering old stuff. Wishing I hadn't. Damned core beliefs (again).

Reframing painful things. Forgiving myself. Naming guilty parties.

Headaches. Just tension. Tears near the surface.

Doing for others. Should I be?

Learning to do for me. First, for a change.

Letting others help me. Its been a long time.

Hearing old voices and emotions. Do they belong here, now? Fighting and reframing their influence.

Feeling judged. Need I anymore?

What can I let go of? Do I need all this clutter? This baggage. Literally. Its weighing me down.

Freedom in the moonlight. A new way forward?

Much to think about...

Bring it on

2009-02-17T16:39:00.004+09:00

OK, I think I've finished whining now.

Clearly privacy is at a premium everywhere - many comments mentioned toddlers and toilets. Been there, done that. I understand. I do. And at least I have an unburnt house.

So, moving right along...

I'm back at work this week, after a very busy weekend featuring a rare Perth appearance of my London Aunts. Such darlings. They were so kind and hospitable to us when we were in London in 2007, so I was more than happy to be their (loosely bound, achieved by email, license to boss/draw together long-lost folks) social director for a 5 day visit. We went to a wildlife park where a wombat was scratched, along with a koala. We picnicked riverside, we looked up train timetables. We told tales, we ate scones and homemade jam, prawns, sticky date pudding, ice-cream cake and a large roast lamb dinner (we are very full).

I also managed to squeeze in a 20-hour retreat to a hotel for some time alone with my squeeze, although it was a close run thing. While wandering in the wildlife park I had a call from the booking agency telling me that the hotel was full and would not be able to honour our online booking. They were going into to bat for us, but they were unable to make them build a hotel room overnight, so did we have any other options? Clearly not. 6 hours later she rang me back to confirm that a room under repair now WAS available (phew).

We went, we gymed, we swam, we schmoozed, we ate room service for Valentine's dinner, we slept soundly. Mission accomplished. It was just lovely. We are very, very lucky people.

So I am working in clinics now, where there are antenatal sessions, and gynaecology sessions, some with midwives and some with doctors. Its a busy place, with lots of staff to-ing and fro-ing, and fighting over rooms, but it is generally a comfy place and the staff are all nice, so once I learn the routine I should be right. I worked in the outpatient clinics 4 years ago so I have some idea, I just have to adapt it to all these new clinics. Clinics also means no night shift or Sundays for a while. Yippee!

Today and tomorrow I have study days. I'm doing a 2 day Advanced Fetal Assessment course which will allow me to sign off on all the CTG traces I encounter in LBS. Its a useful skill to have, and as I hope to spend a long period on LBS this year I'm keen to achieve this competency. There's an exam involved, but I should be OK.

Steff went to work again today, no dramas that I heard about, so I hope she settles in better this week.

I do feel refreshed after a 2 week break and going away, even with a stressful last week or so.

I have also been enjoying So You Think You Can Dance on TV, and try not to miss it, or tape it religiously, or catch it up on the website. Another show I enjoyed was Cranford on ABC, which I taped the first week (cos it clashed with SYTYCD) - but I now discover to my delight that it is on ABC I-View - the online digital channel, which luckily our ISP subscribes to, so we can catch past episodes within the next week, in their entirety, without using up our download quota. Yay!

Its all go in my house, I tell ya!

And the very best bit of news is that as I type this, Lesley will be in the air, en-route to us here in Perth. I will feel most un-abandoned by her return, in contrast to when she left for the USA at a similar time to another best friend going to live in Scotland, and following the sudden death of another close friend. I am so looking forward to having her home. Just what I need...less abandon.

Lesley and I have a few projects planned, including making a quilt for a teenage boy that Frogdancer knows, who has lost his home and possessions in the fires. Frogdancer very kindly and generously passed on a quilt to his Mum that she made last year, that I got to see last September. She has posted about her visit to them here. Its a great post, I was moved to tears.

I'm also looking forward to the return of my prodigal son, who has been gallivanting in Melbourne, arriving on the morning of the fires. He goes back to uni on Monday, hopefully for his last year.

Well, I'm off to make dinner now.

Thanks for dropping by, I'd love you to leave a note and say hi!