Shits and giggles

I’ve got this absolutely lovely friend who never says a bad word about anybody. Never judges anyone, is just plain good. You know - the type of person we all want to be. Anyway, last week she called in for coffee and I was in my office. There was this pause as she walked in to say hello, then she let out a long low whistle. That’s when I accepted life was getting on top of me. I had been ignoring that bombsite for some time. Usually I’m pretty tidy, on close inspection there will be dust for sure, but usually I’m not messy. Because appearances count and all that - actually most of my mates are now of an age their eyesight is worsening and they can’t see the dust!

So life has been its usual hectic self. People keep asking me how I have the time to write this blog, well apparently it just means I don’t have the time to clean my house! Four babies for April turned in to six, with two coming early and there has been a lot of distance to travel for postnatal visits. I’ve also been mad busy making pottery as I have a pop up shop booked for all of next week and am panicking that I won’t have enough of what people want (or that people won’t want any of it!). I haven’t even had time to ride my horse, which although after our big trek he probably appreciates his retirement, it won’t be helping my self care strategies.

I’m also having an ongoing issue with my cat - who is hunkering down for winter and warming his arse on my office keyboard. ‘Cute’ I thought - the first few times as I shoo’d him out the door. But now he has made the screen view upside down and the mouse is backward - so if you want to move it to the right you have to go left, up is down. Initially funny. But I’ve tried everything to fix it. He’s now being continually thrown out the door, with a gentle shove up the arse even. But he keeps coming back! Meanwhile I can’t use my computer. I know, just shut the door you might think. Wise advice, but there is no door handle on it. Just a gaping hole. The flannel draped over the top just doesn’t hold out the charging tabby. I hope he hurts his head a little bit each time though. I’m going to have to beg the teenage boy to help and I really like to hold the power there dammit😉.

But in the good news the husband has been working on the house! After six years of always being going to ‘finish it in his holidays’ it’s finally come a little closer. I now have downpipes - and they are even connected up to the stormwater! He has the cuts from the bearers on his head to prove it 🤣. He came to me saying he wants to do his postgrad to be an advanced paramedic (after a small moment of panic as now he will be more educated then me) I quickly said I would support that as long as he finished the f*%#ing house! So a deal was made and things are looking up!

I had a wonderful easy birth earlier this week, a second time client who phoned at 7am (luxury!) and baby was born just after 8am. It all went beautifully smooth and put me on a lovely birthing high. By day two of the postnatal period baby had yellow poos already - not the dreadful marmite poos they usually still are on day two - this black, tar like ooze that makes every new dad question his decision and wonder if he’s actually up to this job - yellow poos don’t usually turn up till day five. But some people are just made to have babies while others struggle with loooong labours and feeding difficulties. Anyway poo colour and consistency is always a hot topic in my world. Especially bad when the new mother assumes you are asking for an update on her own bowel movements - and you have to then say “that’s awesome you had such a successful poo, I never doubted you - but I was actually asking about the baby” 😬.

All in a days work. In fact the other day in clinic I discussed a myriad of random and personal things: The size and shape of someone’s haemorrhoid; what a butt fissure is; the colour of colostrum and when it starts to leak; that a cervix that is ‘ripe’ feels like your cheek; the snot like appearance of the mucous plug; how to put a muka (flax) tie on babies cord - instead of using a plastic clamp; the cheapest place to buy baby merino; how to improvise a bassinette out of a drawer or a box; the use of a cabbage to help with breast engorgement... It’s a never ending and random list, one definitely not confined to midwifery. I also talked saddles!

In the middle of it all whilst I was laughing with a client my phone rang and I excused myself to take it in the hallway. It was an ex client whose birth I had written about on here, she was phoning to say that her baby had just died, the day after its first birthday in Starship hospital. In fact, this was now the second child they had lost.

I had nothing to offer her. All I could say after a pause was “I’m so sorry. I don’t have the right words for you now”. Then I arranged to meet up, sent my love to her partner and hung up. We’ve had three babies together, now she is returning back from Auckland pregnant with the fourth one. It will be a bittersweet ride.

It was hard then to walk back in to my clinic room, to that happy expectant mum and discuss tips for her leg cramps after that. But I did it. She didn’t notice. I put on my midwife mask and shelved those other feelings for later.

I deal with miscarriages often. They are dreadful, but I can relate and can imagine their grief having been so close to it so often.

But to lose a child, two children?

I hope I can be what she needs when she returns.

I’ll probably say what I think is the wrong thing but actually turns out to be ok. I received a comment only the other day from a client about an earlier blog where I was discussing getting the phonecall when a woman is having a miscarriage. I talked about how it’s so important you say the right thing. That it has become easier to know what it helps to say with more practice over the years.

Sounds wise and mature right?

This was her comment:

“It sounds ludicrous but your choice of words in response to a mid term pregnancy loss I endured is one that makes me love who you are as a midwife, you’re real and I don’t think I could have thought up what else to say if I were in the same shoes

“F###.......”

I’ll never forget that moment and it’s 100% how I felt too.”

There’s me spouting on about saying the right thing and I said “F##k”?!?! 🤣

So I had to email and apologise. She replied saying that she found it straight up and honest, that then I showed my compassion, that it’s what one of her friends would have said.

So maybe it’s not so bad after all. Probably not the words I would document that I said 😉, but if you follow your gut and be yourself you usually can’t go wrong.

So the plan is don’t overthink it, I will probably just give my client a hug and have a little cry. Maybe I don’t need any words. Might actually be safer.

So that’s me, the moon is getting fuller and I’d better go get cracking with some jobs before the phone goes...