Day 164

I caught two babies tonight and got to suture twice. Guess who the staff midwife was :)

I never managed to fall asleep last night (my own normal insomnia, not births), so I was feeling rather crummy today and not particularly in the mood to work an overnight shift. Of course, A would have none of it. The first client wanted to push an hour into our shift, and so she pushed me off toward the birth room to manage the birth. I did ok, but I still got critiqued by A. She's right, of course. No matter what her constructive criticism is or how much I deserve to hear it, she is always right. Dang it. Tonight, she was on me about speaking too softly to the client as she was pushing and not having enough of a commanding presence in the birth room. I admit I was extra quiet tonight, because, well I was tired but also because I am so intimidated working in front of her. I know I'm not perfect, but I want so badly to do everything perfectly while she's watching that I sometimes forget to bring out my own style.

As part of my lapse in judgment tonight (caused by my anxiety of having her there), I didn't properly guide the intern through the tucking and delivery of the baby's head, so the client tore. Maybe she would have torn anyway, but I take full responsibility. And as the responsible party, it was my job to suture her back together. A walked me through where to place each bite of the suture needle, and by the end, the woman's perineum looked beautiful and I actually got complimented. But not before she commented on how I need not be afraid to take bigger bites and learn that "it's all in the wrist."

The second birth happened less than three hours later. Again, the client felt like pushing and I got shoved off toward the birth room to handle it. Nervous and shy in her presence yet again, I was quiet and at one point A physically moved me into a spot closer to the client and the intern. It was mostly in jest, but for a second I felt my body tense up in protest. What a brat I am! I joked with her afterward about how I always have to fight her on everything, even though it's all for my own good. She laughed and said she knew that's how I was, that I just needed to do things my own way and learn from my own mistakes. So, in my standoffishness, I backed away from the birth for a brief moment, just in time to watch the intern fumble the management of second stage (dang!), and once again, the client tore. Once again, I found myself getting ready to suture, grateful for the learning opportunity, but sheepish about my stubborn spirit.

Ugh! I learn so much from her at every birth and I love having her as a teacher. I just wish I was less of a student and more on her level. I know she wishes I would just step up and stop deferring to her, but I can't help it. She is the midwife I want to be.

We have three hours left in our shift together tonight, and only one more full shift left before I leave. Is devastated a strong enough word to describe how I feel? I know I will make my peace with it, and I will be okay with leaving once my time comes, but oh my god, this is it. After this week, there will be no more hand holding or constructive criticism or any "put your hands here" lessons. My teacher is kicking me out of the nest and forcing me to fly and I'm so scared! How will I make it without her? I mean, for real.