Life on call

Wow, it’s been nearly a year since my last post! I haven’t forgotten this blog. In fact, I think about it all the time and have several posts sitting here, half written, waiting for the motivation to finish them. Frankly, the further away I get from actively practicing midwifery, the less I care about discussing it.  And while I’m being perfectly honest, there are some topics I struggle to put into words that won’t burn my bridges in the birth community. But I’m also a master procrastinator, so since I’m supposed to be studying for tomorrow’s exam on microbial genetics, I see this as the perfect time to work on something that is not at all related to microbiology. This is a polished version of something I wrote last year.

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Something exciting happened to me today. It’s something that happens to most of us at one time or another, with varying degrees of fanfare: I bought a new phone. I’m not a stranger to the thrill of new technology, and the novelty of a new gadget has never been lost on me. But this time it was different. The significant factor here is that I didn’t just choose to upgrade. My phone broke. One minute it worked, the next minute it was gone forever. In the past this had always launched a panic-fueled desperate frenzy to replace it before I missed a call, searching through boxes and drawers for old phones that could be temporarily re-activated, juggling call forwarding to other people’s numbers and setting up VOIP programs to route numbers through wifi . This time around I didn’t just have time to shop for the phone I really wanted, I was able to select and wait two weeks for a phone that hadn’t even been released yet! There actually was a mad dash to the store that night, but it was to purchase an alarm clock. My life is now arranged so that the most important job my phone does is ensure my daughter does not miss the school bus in the morning. This does not feel like a little thing.

My entire career I’ve heard midwives in solo practice bandy about the terms “on call” and “off call”, when what they are really referring to is the likelihood that one of their clients may go into labor. This is not what “on call” means. If a midwife has a client in her care at any time between the initial prenatal appointment and final postpartum visit, she is on call. (At least, that should be what it means. If your midwife promises to only be available to take an emergency phone call from you during the few weeks prior to your due date, you need to find a new one.) For a typical client with a 40 week pregnancy, who begins prenatal care at 8 weeks and receives 6 weeks of postpartum care, this totals 38 weeks of your midwife’s life. That is, for each client, I promised that for 73% of a year I would never have my phone off or away from me for more than an hour. That is a dedication I first made to my preceptor when I began my apprenticeship in  2001, and it continued until I conducted my last postpartum visit in August 2014. The only time during those 14+ years I lived without commitment to a client was 5 months of maternity leave (which was cut short by the sudden death of a colleague). That is 70% of my adult life that I have lived on call.

Of course, there are times when you can predict that you are more likely to actually receive a call than others. I only served women with low-risk pregnancies, so the majority never had any problems or reasons for urgent calls outside of labor. Being self-employed, I had some freedom to accept or decline clients based on whether their due dates conflicted with planned vacations or other commitments I wanted to make (provided they were planned 9-10 months in advance). But life is unpredictable. There was the Christmas morning I left my phone in another room for 3 hours while I opened gifts with my family, and picked it to find desperate messages from a client with cramping and spotting and a text message that read “am I miscarrying?” (yes she was, and I had to send her to the emergency room because I was too far away to see her myself). There was the client who experienced pre-term labor on New Year’s Eve. There was the client who had a pre-term delivery while I was on vacation. There was the Rh negative client who missed a few steps and fell down some stairs while I was at a professional conference. There was the client whose ultrasound revealed she was having twins as I was recovering from surgery. Even those precious few days I arranged for another midwife to cover for me, I was still reachable in case the back-up midwife had any questions about handling my clients, which for some unfortunate reason was the case every time.

Then there were the missed opportunities, like my uncle’s funeral. The week he died I had two clients who were within a few weeks of their due date. For a whole day I debated whether to risk an overnight trip, a 6 hour drive each way, just to spend a few hours with my family. I ultimately decided to stay. For me, the worst part was making that decision knowing that I probably would not be needed by a client, but still being unable to go anyway. I have carried a very low client load in the past few years so even though I spent little of my time actually at a birth, I still spent all my time being on call.

I did not realize the weight being on call pressed on me until it was suddenly gone. I had been crippled by the possibility that I could be called away at any time, and that it might take me away from home for days. Things in my life and my home simply hadn’t been done because I kept waiting for a time when I knew I would not be interrupted, but that time never came. I didn’t sleep well at night for fear that my phone would stop working, or sometimes just for fear that I would receive a call before I had time to get enough sleep (talk about a negative feedback loop!). Having multiple clients who were due at the same time only made it that much worse, as I would return from a birth so exhausted I felt sick, but afraid that if I fell asleep I might sleep so hard that I wouldn’t hear the phone ring. What if it was the mother I had just left, saying she thought she was bleeding too much, or the baby was lethargic? I didn’t eat well, because who wants to run out of the house with a hot pan on the stove? I didn’t mow the yard, because what if I couldn’t hear the phone ring over the sound of the mower, and what if I didn’t have time to take a shower after getting so dirty and sweaty? Garden work? Can you imagine if I showed up to a birth with dirt jammed under my fingernails? I delayed laundry day as long as possible, knowing that if I was called away before I could move a load from the washer to the dryer, they would be mildewed before I got back. And getting my hair done? I would sit in the chair on the verge of a panic attack during the whole appointment.

Please don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge any of my clients for needing me at unexpected times. On the contrary, if I hadn’t cared about them there would have been no internal struggle. I was self employed and I could love it or leave it, and I loved it up until the day I chose to leave it (that’s a topic for another day). But it did weigh on me, and I didn’t realize just how much until that weight was gone. I still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and reach for my phone to check for missed calls, before I remember that it’s safe to sleep well now. I still sometimes tell my husband to move his car, because I don’t want to be blocked in the driveway in the rain in the middle of the night. And when we expected snow this winter, I still fretted for a second about whether I could get out of my neighborhood if there was ice on the road. Then I remembered that it didn’t matter. For the first time in 14 years, I wanted to see snow. I hoped for a good a snow. And when it came, I felt no anxiety. I felt joy.

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Introduction

Let’s back up for an introduction.

I hate trying to find meaningful things to say about myself. I’m really bad at it. This is one of my complaints about being a self-employed home birth midwife. I don’t know anyone who enjoys job interviews, so imagine having them weekly. It’s nerve-racking. I am good at answering direct questions: “What is your training? How many babies have you delivered? Why did you become a midwife?” But then there was frequently the open-ended “So, tell me about yourself.” That’s not an interview question, it’s an existential essay topic.

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So, you know I’m a midwife. I’m also a mother. I have a husband. I don’t believe people can be defined by what they do or who they are related to, but those are the things that occupy most of my time. My friends mean the world to me. I don’t make them very easily, so I hold tight to the ones I have. Our border collies are family. We accidentally have fish. (Helpful note: if you let your child throw balls at bowls of goldfish at the county fair, you may have to take a fish home. Also, keeping goldfish in a bowl is inhumane. Google it.)

I am not only a midwife, but a “medwife”. Dr. Amy Tuteur (whom I will not engage on this blog) defines medwife as a term of derision typically applied by lay midwives (CPMs, LMs, DEMs) to real midwives, certified nurse midwives (CNMs), to signify disgust with using actual medical knowledge in the care of pregnant women.”  I must admit, that makes me giggle a little. Aside from her use of the terms “lay” and “real” midwives, she’s pretty spot on in how the word is used. I would define it as being a midwife who provides evidence-based care. I’ve found it’s sometimes a concept midwives love to march behind like a banner they didn’t notice was misspelled before going on parade.

The title of this blog is The Hippie Medwife, but my granola is actually pretty soggy. I like peace, love, and tie-tye. I love the idea of living off the land, but not enough to move out of the city. I like to buy local food, but am not impressed by the label “organic”. I make up my own eco-friendly weed killer, but for big jobs I’ll pull out the Round-Up. I’m not scared of GMOs. I don’t use illegal drugs, but I think it’s absolutely ridiculous that people who haven’t hurt anyone are in prison for growing a plant. Herbs are naturally occurring pharmaceuticals that can elicit a real effect on our bodies (for good or bad), but homeopathic remedies are just sugar pills.

I like good music. Good music. My husband hypothesized that once you hit 30 no one will release good music any more, but he’s wrong as long as Eddie Vedder is still pumping out new stuff.

I like wine. I like to watch bad movies while I drink a lot of wine and tweet about it. I will be doing this more often now that I am not on call most of my life.

I’m a sci-fi/fantasy nerd. I sew, often cosplay costumes for my daughter. I can cook, but I usually don’t. I’m a genealogist. I like dog sports (one of my border collies was on her way to be a competitive agility dog until I had a baby).  I often spend Saturday mornings with my daughter surfing YouTube for baby animal videos. Lately I’m hooked on weekly trivia night.

At the risk of rambling on too long, there are some things you should know if you’re going to follow this blog.

I am very blunt. The truth is, I have OCD, and it manifests in a compulsion for everything I encounter to be organized, complete, and accurate. I’m not being flippant, it’s an actual disorder that affects my ability to function like a normal person and to work with other people. It sounds quirky, but it’s really pretty sucky. It can cause a lot of anxiety and obsessive thoughts and pretty much just muck up my brain. As far as it’s relevance here, I can’t let inconsistencies and inaccurate or incomplete information just hang out there. If you have an idea, I will tell you why it might not work. If you say something that’s inaccurate, I will correct you. If you link to an outrageous story from The Daily Mail or The Mirror, I’m going to tell you those are tabloids and you should work on your critical thinking skills so you can learn to evaluate your source material. I play devil’s advocate and may belabor points I don’t even believe, because even though I may disagree with something, I think it’s important to understand that issues are always multifaceted. See, that sentence I just wrote drives me crazy. I said “always”, and I’m sure that’s not true, as nothing ever happens always or never. I just did it again.

By definition, I’m a skeptic: a person who questions the validity of something purporting to be factual.  I am compelled to know something is indeed factual rather than accepting it blindly because someone else told me so or because it just seems right. I’ve lost a lot of faith in apprentice training after realizing I believe some things about birth because it was knowledge passed down to me, but when I finally looked deeper it turned out to be wrong. This is not related to spiritual faith, which is very personal to me and I don’t talk about it publicly very often. Beliefs and issues are rarely clear cut, but my OCD tends to make things seem pretty clear in my mind. Church and state are separate things. Religious institutions and corporations are separate things. Women’s health care and fetal rights are separate things. You don’t have the right to tell me who I can love, and I don’t have the right to tell you. Words have only as much power as we give them. Evolution is an undeniable fact. “There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt in your philosophy.”  I was given the eyes to see and the mind to understand scientific and biological truths, which is not at odds with faith.

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Now that I’ve spent a solid day trying to figure out how to wrap this up, I’ll share one of my favorite videos from one of my favorite people:

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July 22, 2014 · 3:59 am

Hi there. This blog has been growing in my mind for several months with about a half dozen posts already in the works. I wasn’t sure how to start, then yesterday I saw this:

Midwife vs Medwife: Six Ways To Tell The Difference

For those who have never heard the word “medwife” before, it’s a term of contempt that’s used to refer to midwives whose practice style is more interventive than the person using the term would prefer. For some, this means the midwife practices under a “medical model” (topic for another post) with little regard to the mother as an individual. For others, it means the midwife has actual skills and training and uses those to provide evidence-based care. Regardless, it’s a term of derision, and it’s ugly and stupid.

Enter “meggf” at Whole Woman. I’d never heard of this site before, but there are a lot of lovely little gems that I’m sure you’ll be hearing about later.

meggf opens by explaining what she believes a “medwife” is: a practitioner who by rights can call herself a midwife, but is unfortunately using that title to pull a bait-and-switch on unsuspecting mothers. She goes on to offer six questions by which one can identify the nefarious medwife. Let’s see how I score.

1. Do you recommend any routine testing in pregnancy?
A midwife will offer testing, based on risk factors, when the results may alter the choices for pregnancy and birth. A medwife will recommend routine testing regardless of risk factors and regardless of the effectiveness of the testing (including but not limited to GBS swabbing, and GD testing).

Oh, wow. So right off the bat, I’m firmly in the “medwife” category. I offer ALL the testing. Some I recommend, some I require, and some I don’t really care as long as I’m sure you are giving informed refusal in declining them. GBS swabbing is strongly recommended. I won’t drop you from care if you refuse, but there’s really no good reason to not do it. If you don’t want to have IV antibiotics in labor if the result is positive, let’s cross that bridge if we come to it. Only about 10% of my clients are GBS positive. That’s a 10% chance I’ll have to recommend antibiotics, versus a 100% chance they’ll force them on you at the hospital if we have to transport. Think about that. 100% chance that you’ll have antibiotics for a bacteria you only had 10% chance of testing positive for. I also recommend gestational diabetes screening. I still offer the 50 gram 1 hour screen simply because I don’t want anyone fasting until my office opens at 10:00 am, though they can go to the lab for the new 75 gram 2 hour with fasting screen. If the glucose drink is really a problem, I’ll go with the jelly beans or even grape juice. At the least, let’s get a 2 hour post-normal meal reading. Do you want to talk about risk factors for gestational diabetes?  Unless you’re under 25, you’re at risk. And carefully monitoring for signs and symptoms of diabetes in lieu of testing? Good luck distinguishing those from symptoms of being pregnant. There are some very serious things that could happen to your baby if you have gestational diabetes, one of which being a gianormous baby with fat padded around the chest and shoulders that make it difficult for the rest of the baby to be born after the head is delivered. Remember, you are planning to have your baby at HOME, not in the hospital with an OR down the hall. And if you have gestational diabetes, and we can know that NOW, and modify your diet NOW, that can save us a lot of grief later. Again, I’m not going to drop you from care if you refuse routine diabetes testing, but I want to be sure you understand all of what I just said.

2. How do you assess progress during labour?
A midwife will watch your behaviour, she might talk about knowing where a birth is at by the smell in the room (yes really!) or the sounds you are making. She will recommend a vaginal exam to test for dilation in the unlikely event that it will give information that may alter choices but the majority of the births she attends will never have a vaginal exam. A medwife will do vaginal exams routinely.

Well, nuts. But what does “routinely” mean? Behavior is definitely the biggest clue I use to assess labor progress, but labor is defined by contractions that effect cervical change. I’ve been at too many labors that dragged on way too long when a simple vaginal exam hours ago would have identified a problem that we could have been working to fix instead of transporting now because you’re too exhausted to try anything else at home. Maybe I’ve just seen more than my share of malpositioned babies and dysfunctional labors. Limiting vaginal exams to prevent transmission of infection is evidence-based medicine, but letting mothers labor hard for hours before discovering they’re not getting the baby any closer to delivery is not. It’s a judgment call. I would never force anyone to have a vaginal exam. That’s called sexual assault. But I’ve rarely had anyone refuse an exam when offered, either. I would say the majority of my births have one vaginal exam. So 2-0 for medwife.

3. What if labour is progressing slowly? A medwife will have a certain time in which they need labour to conclude, they may offer drugs to reach that limit. A midwife will recommend food, water, rest, maybe some movement. She will want you to be healthy rather than to give birth in a certain time frame.

Sounds like I may be a midwife. There is no deadline, as long as progress is being made. If progress stops, I do my best to figure out why and make changes to fix it. But if there comes a time when my experience leads me to recognize it’s just not working, I see no valor in rubbing your shoulders and telling you to relax and visualize your body opening like a flower and that your body is doing what it’s supposed to do when I KNOW it’s not. And the truth is in those situations, the earlier we can go in and get some pain relief and/or some Pitocin to make your contractions more organized, the more likely you will be to have this baby vaginally than to go on until you’re too exhausted and the baby is too stuck in a bad position to push out. And also, the supposition that a “medwife” cares more about the clock than a mother’s health is gag-worthy. Seriously?

4. How do you feel about breech birth? A medwife will recommend surgery, listing the risks of bottom first babies.. A midwife will offer you facts and figures, the risks and benefits to both birthing and having surgery for breech. She will make recommendations but give you decisional power.

I can’t recommend surgery, I’m not a surgeon and that would be entirely inappropriate for me to suppose I knew when surgery would be best for a mother. I don’t do breech births. I know how. I have done them outside of the US. They were easy. That’s the thing though: I have experience with easy breech birth, but if they were all easy then  we wouldn’t be talking about this. I believe in vaginal breech birth, but I would prefer they take place in the hospital. It’s a shame that physicians and hospitals aren’t allowing women that option, which is forcing them to seek midwives to attend their breeches out of hospital. Women should ALWAYS have decisional power when it comes to surgery performed on their bodies.  So I wonder if meggf would call me a medwife when I support vaginal breech but don’t personally do them, and think they would probably be best done in the hospital (according to evidence-based practice)?

5. How do you view VBAC / VBAMC? A midwife will offer a balanced view of both options. A medwife will give you more information about the risks of birth.

I don’t do HBACs (home birth after cesarean), so I’m at a loss on this one too. I support VBAC. I think it’s probably safer to have them in the hospital, but again, doctors and hospitals aren’t giving women that option, thereby forcing them to seek home birth in order to avoid unnecessary surgery. And when mothers are allowed a trial of labor, it’s under heavy restrictions that hamper the odds of a vaginal birth. If I were a CNM I personally would have no problem attending VBACs in the hospital, so maybe “midwife” on this one.

6. When would you recommend induction? A medwife will give you a date by which you must give birth, be induced or transfer care to a surgeon. A midwife will say that her recommendations are to remain pregnant unless there is some health factor that requires action.

HOLY SHITSNACKS. After the Christy Collins Facebook crowd-sourcing tragedy I can’t believe I’m even addressing this. (WordPress is having fits trying to format a link so you can Google it if you feel you must). I would recommend an induction any time it’s safer for the baby to be growing on the outside than on the inside. Many people think that a due date is an expiration date. In fact, a pregnancy is not post-term until 42 weeks. However, just like having a pre-term baby, there are risks to having a post-term baby that put management of pregnancy past 42 weeks outside the scope of midwife care. At that time I will transfer your care to someone qualified to manage your high risk pregnancy, and it just so happens that he or she is a surgeon. Yes, they are going to want to induce you. Yes, you have the right to refuse. Yes, that may be an unfortunate struggle between you and your physician, but that’s just it. It’s between you and your physician, because I’m no longer a factor here. Because I’m a medwife.

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July 7, 2014 · 11:53 pm