A lot has happened since my last post where I expressed a moment of despair, and it has only been two days. Towards the end of my last post, I posed the question, “Is this the storm leading to a new revelation?” Well, it has.
Sunday afternoon/evening existed with the anxieties and worries as described in my last post, but after sharing these less-than-positive emotions with my online community, I felt a little less like giving up. I felt relieved. I had found a sense of support knowing that someone had read and understood my despair. I no longer felt alone, and this helped me push forward.
Sunday evening I had a childbirth class to teach that I almost canceled on because of my almost-anxiety attack. Making the half hour drive to the couple, I was able to breath it out, mellow out, and just let my mind wander without forcing it in any direction. When I reached the couple’s house, I shook off the emotions even if it was only momentarily and went on to teach them about the first stage of labor and relaxation techniques. After the class ended, the emotions I had shaken had been shed. I felt renewed. I felt content with the information I had provided the couple. I felt happy with the feedback that the couple had given me. I felt like I had a little bit more of a place in this world when it came to a career. Sunday night felt better already. I even got a wild hair and drove to a trusted piercing/tattoo shop on my way home with the decision that I was going to get my nose pierced. (I’ll elaborate on this in a different post.)
Monday was crazy hectic at work. I had very little time to dedicate to my blog (which I usually do during my 15 minute breaks and lunch). Feeling a little anxious to share how much better I was feeling, I later realized that God had bigger plans for me on this beautiful and busy Monday.
Part of my childbirth educator certification requirements is to observe at least two labors, and my second observed labor was to happen anytime soon. Well, at around 2pm, I got a call from the momma that I would be with letting me know that she was being admitted to the hospital because her fluids were low and her placenta was calcifying. They were going to induce her. Instantly, my hectic day just got crazier. I knew I had time to finish my workday, go pick up Little Nugget, drop him off with his dad, and head to the hospital, but I felt like the clock was ticking because I wanted to make sure that I was there to support the momma 110%. I wanted to make sure her questions were being answered and that she was receiving all of the information necessary to make her feel comfortable with what was being done to her body.
Fast forward to finally getting to the hospital. I arrived at 5:30pm where I found momma leaning over the couch in a great laboring position. I got excited. Then…she looked over with a smile and started conversing with me. The midwife on duty had given her the option to rupture her membranes before giving her pitocin, and momma had chosen to go with that option. I was relieved to know that she had chosen this route because it was clear that her body was not ready to be in the hospital yet, and momma knew this too. This was her second baby, and she had had a successful and hasty natural birth with her first. This was all new to her, and with my little experience in the field, it was new to me too, but somehow I felt the confidence to provide the support, knowledge, and respect that I didn’t entirely know I had.
While at the hospital, I supported momma, her mother, and her husband in understanding some of the jargon that the nurses were using, showed them some labor-helping positions, and reassured momma that ultimately it was her labor, her body and her choice. It was refreshing to be heard with such intent and care for the information I was providing.
To give you the rest of the story in a nutshell…momma “convinced” the midwife to allow her to labor through the night to see if she progressed on her own, but this was with the agreement that if there was no progression by morning, pitocin would be administered. Seeing that momma felt comfortable with this, I made my way home at 10pm. I received a call from the husband at 2am that she was 9.5cm dilated. I hurried over to the hospital, but by the time I got there, baby was being weighed, measured, and loved on. Success! My heart exploded with love for the field all over again. Pride for the momma and her ability to decide for herself overcame my being.
My revelation? Well, it’s not entirely clear as I don’t know what direction I want to head with my passion for childbirth, but I know that God is guiding me through the obstacles. I must trust that not having it all figured out right now is normal. I must trust that I’m not falling behind. Most importantly, I need to keep doing something for myself, and this, this is what I’m trying so hard to do. Some days are easier than others.
Cheers to the fire that lives inside us!