Great beginnings

I had a beautiful night shift this week.

I was assigned to a couple having their first baby, 10 days overdue, and being induced. I took handover from a lovely midwife who assured me the cervix was really soft and favourable, the head was low and now the waters were broken. They were really excited and smiley and chatty.

"So, this is the kick-off, eh?" the husband asked. I assured him they would not be getting out of this labour suite without a baby, and I planned to catch it before morning. She was having a few niggly contractions before I started the drip, but as I turned it up gradually over the next 2 hours the contractions started to get her attention and she became restless. She moved really instinctively, circling and rocking her hips, remaining upright, alternating standing with sitting and moving on the birth ball. He was a bit unsure of himself at first, and she kept assuring him she was fine, and there's nothing I need you to do yet, thanks hon. He settled into a chair and dozed briefly, but kept getting up and walking over to her. I encouraged him to stand behind her at the back of the ball in case it scooted out from under her, and to touch her between contractions.

We had discussed their birth plan, and they were really not keen for any analgesia other than a shot of opiate perhaps, and really didn't want an epidural at all. I asked her how many times she was allowed to beg me for one before I gave in. "Five" she stated very firmly. OK its a deal. We talked about how things were going to get hot, heavy and pretty intense at various points with smiles wiped off faces. Thats fine, they said. I told them I would do my level best to encourage her through the tough bits, and would let them know about the next bits as they approached. There would be a phase where she was gonna lose the plot for a bit, and swear and beg, feel shaky and sick and want to go home, but that it was normal and that I would be glad to see it, because it would mean she was progressing well. OK? Yep, that's OK, we agreed.

It was beautiful to behold. The only downer was that she had to be monitored due to the induction and drip and post-dates, but she was just marvellous, and didn't complain once about the monitoring. It was my problem, and my shoulder was pretty sore from reaching out to keep contact but it was worth it.

About 2.30am she started drawing within. By 3.30am she started saying that it really hurt and that she may need some analgesia. At 3.45 she asked for an epidural. "That's once" I said. She was starting to really dread the next contraction. We went into drawing her out mode, lots of praise and encouragement as she was starting to lose the plot. To hold her off I got all the equipment out for an epidural insertion. She had asked 3 times by now. It was becoming more difficult to monitor the baby with her movement and agitation, and the coordinator was hovering wanting to know why there were big areas of poor trace. As soon as she entered she could see why.

"I don't know yet if I can offer you an opiate shot or epidural - how about we examine you and see where we're at?" She readily agreed. Onto the bed for the first time. A quick examination and I attached a scalp clip to reduce the number of belts she needed - 5cm dilated - slightly less then I had expected behaviourally, but I really felt she was cracking on. Get up and go to the loo, keep that bladder empty, yes do a poo if you need to, make room for the baby. Hmm electrode not reading too well, and there's a lot of fetal heart changes with contractions. A passing middle rank doctor was called to review the trace and the electrode positioning on baby's head.

"Ahh, you're almost there" he smiled. 9cm now, 30 mins after the previous examination! Sorry hon, I grinned, no epidural - you'd be sitting on the baby's head before we could get it in! She was not quite amused, and was quite frowny for the next 10 minutes.

Then she started holding her breath and involuntarily pushing with contractions. It is quite something to witness, and to experience. You know how when you need to throw up and you have a few dry retches first? It is just like that. Irresistible. We had talked about this sensation, and I assured her she would know when it was time to push. Go ahead hon.

It didn't take long before there was bulging and twitching and unfolding occurring. It's wonderful to see. She was less impressed. Its often quite hard to push effectively at first, and to get into the pattern of understanding the downward/forward progress of the head within you. And she was still feeling pretty ripped off about having asked for analgesia and not getting any. So as the unfolding occurred she was not sure she liked it at all! We changed position regularly, encouraging her by reminding her that it was all in their birth plan to push in these positions! She found it hard to coordinate her breathing with pushing, and would let her energy go between pushes, which meant the head would slip back and she covered the same ground 3 times each contraction! Finally she got the hang of it, and asked how it could be speeded up. "By doing the scariest-feeling thing, and then going further!" I replied. "I'll tell you each step of the way what to expect next." Within the next two contractions we had head staying on view between bouts of pushing.

"OK," I said "this next bit is going to sting and burn. It will feel pretty crappy, but I'll talk you through it, so try to work with me and stick it out. It won't last long. And then there'll be this really great bit where the head is out and the relief is sensational. And then there's this fantastic bit where the rest slips out and it is the best feeling in the world. Ready?"

And it was just like that. God- she was wonderful. What a champ. At 5.29am her baby surfed out on a wave of amniotic fluid, to her gasp of triumph. I helped her lift him to her chest where she welcomed him with an introduction of "Hello my darling baby, I am your Mummy". After a minute or so she and her husband thought to ask, "Oh - is it a boy or a girl?" I helped her to reposition the babe so she could see his beautiful rosy scrotum. "Its a boy!" they cried to each other.

She needed a few stitches, which another midwife performed, and after an hour or so we weighed him - 3.670kg - 8lbs 1oz. She was as high as a kite, the baby was alert and calm, and they were all so proud of each other for making and birthing such a beautiful baby. A triumph all round.

"So ... you never did get to asking me five times" I said to her with a hug. "You are very good at this birthing business, you should do it again!" She laughed and said that the head just out, and the slipping out bits were just as I had described them! Fantastic!

It was such a delight to look after them, and I saw them again on the postnatal ward the next night. Baby was starting to feed quite well, and she was really calm and confident, and still on a high after the birth.

And so was I. I am starting to feel like I can function as a midwife now. I've seen 7 births since my return to LBS, 5 x CS (! - although 4 of those were when I was working on the section list) and 2 normal vaginal births with no analgesia. Plus my friend's homebirth. I know which births I prefer.

I really am keen to work in the community, or at least in a model of care that offers continuity of carer/midwife. I was chuffed that morning to have the coordinator ask me if I could see myself working as a community midwife. When I readily answered yes, she said I would be good at it, and that it had been a lovely birth. I couldn't help but feel all warm inside. A beautiful labour and birth, and a compliment. I have been qualified a year, and working for 9 months now, and I really feel like I am finding my feet as a midwife. There are now 2 groups of midwives who are less experienced than me. I am sucking it up and getting on with it more, but still very ready to ask for guidance.

Of course as a rotational midwife I don't stay in one area for too long, but move around every 2 months or so. The next shift I was sent unexpectedly to the postnatal ward, where I had the care of 6 women including 3 women less than 24hrs postpartum, 5 babies including a 36 weeker twin, a withdrawing 37 weeker under phototherapy and a 3 week old baby whose Mum was very ill and was unable to care for it safely. The other staff were very kind and helpful, and cuddled and fed and answered my bells when I had my hands full, but it was a bit of a rude shock after the idyllic previous shift!!

They were both good shifts (in the end) and made me realise how much I have learned as a midwife in a short space of time. Two more night shifts to go in this stretch.

I still love it.

Picture diary

Thanks for the comments. I read and appreciate every one. When I asked if anyone was still there it meant I hoped you hadn't stopped visiting because there was nothing new to read! I must say since I started using bloglines my blog reading has been greatly simplified. Instead of rabidly going to every site just in case I missed something new, now I can see instantly who has posted and I can relax about all the rest. I am spending less time on the computer, but am still in touch and up-to-date. Phew.

Which leaves more time for sewing!!!! I have been going a bit mad lately and loving it!

OK I promised photos. First - from my birthday. Here is the cake. Black Forest Cake. YUM.

And my oldest friend called late in the day and came by to join us for dinner. We hardly ever get to see each other any more - she lives an hour or so away and now I work shifts with less holidays its too easy to let time slip by. But we manage 1-2 visits per year and it is always such a hoot to see her.

We met when she moved to our area at the start of year 5. For the only time in my childhood or since I was picked to choose a softball team. Such a responsibility! I was always picked last so I knew the anguish of waiting to hear your name spoken. So I chose all the kids who usually waited and waited, including all the interesting kids who were new or who had accents or different coloured skins. It is a decision I have never regretted, least of all because it brought Bobbie into my life. We were inseparable from that moment on. It still feels like that. Can you tell?

I was her bridesmaid at her first wedding. The first quilts I owned were made by her for each of my children - I still have them and treasure them. She is such an inspiration to me. She went back to uni to complete her high school, and became an environmental scientist. She is a grandmother now, and still her own self. I just love her. It was so good to see her.

Here is a very bad shot of the Michael Buble concert, which is badly out of focus but conveys something of the atmosphere. Jeez it was a great concert.

Here is a quick excited photo of my sister and I in the audience. Even though its crooked, I like this shot. She is not usually so pale, she's been unwell. Yep, that is the favourite pink cardigan of the moment getting another outing!

Something else exciting happened last week. I received my labels. See? Its a name that a family friend used to call me (my family call me by my middle name) I accidentally ordered iron-on ones (sigh) which don't necessarily suit every fabric I use to make a bag, but they still look very satisfying to have on my products. Even if sewn a little rustically.

Speaking of rustic, here is the bag I just had to make on Friday instead of doing housework (I don't recall making an active choice - was the housework ever a realistic option? ;P )

I had found the orange embroidered jeans in a favourite op-shop on Thursday. They fitted Steff but she felt she wouldn't wear them. Ditto the black chunky cord Diesel jeans we had found a few weeks ago. So....she requested a shopping bag. Et voila!

I was very brave and even put in an internal zipped pocket - my first time - piece of cake. Everything on this bag was chosen for recycledness (is that a word?). The outer fabric, the lining fabrics, the zip, everything had been used before. I'm really pleased with it. It wears my label outside and hers inside!

Which brings me to the weekend....sigh. It was an oasis. I took a healing doll that I had started back in February sometime, that I got stuck on. It was meant to be my inner child, but she looked so vulnerable that I just couldn't move forward with her alone. She needed longer arms to reach out to people. I was a long lanky kid (snort), and while the hair colour was about right, and she had big brown eyes I felt stuck. I knew that if I took her with me to a safe place she would be able to evolve into herself.

We chose messages from a set that spoke to us. Mine were about not believing and living old, negative messages, and how I could create new beliefs about myself, about how I am alright NOW. These tapped into some thought patterns I needed to change. Remember don't believe everything you think ..... So I set to work.

We learned about the orphan archetype and the pros and cons of examining the orphan within us all. We heard the story of "the Ugly Duckling". We journalled. The opening sentence was "I want..." A very powerful tool. We danced through a guided meditation through a four part garden with gates dividing the areas. We experienced the long hard winter that precedes transformation and growth. Rocks for grief, sticks for anger, water for despair, and sand for feeling depleted. We then went for a silent meditative walk about the bush. It was the winter solstice and people all over the world were also engaging in that exercise simultaneously. We were encouraged to see if anything called to us on our nature walk and to collect them for inclusion in our dolls or journalling. The sticks of anger had called me during the meditation. It was time to examine their purpose.

The other women had mostly not made the dolls before and we all had kits in front of us for a new doll. So did I. So I made a new one as well as working on my inner child doll. She had come with me as plain Jane. I was called that a lot as a child. This weekend I made her/myself blossom.

I used the sturdy sticks I collected to first of all give plain Jane a backbone. Next I entwined some curved sticks to her to give her longer arms to reach out for help and comfort. Next she needed to stand taller, so some very strong branches were bound to her short legs. These new limbs were bound in a tartan that reminded me of the little tartan pinafores I wore as a child - with a plain cotton top and a beautiful pleated skirt. They were worn with a pretty white blouse and a cardigan over the top. My new doll seemed more confident already. She had been mousy and brown before, and I look hideous in brown. She wasn't happy being brown. As the dove-grey and green tartan strengthened her she seemed happier. Suddenly I knew she needed more green. A scrap of sequinned green spoke to me. I bound this across her heart. There were some leaves that filled a gap or two, then she sighed contentedly. At last, you are getting to the heart of me. Returning to the treasure chest I found a small sculpted baby, painted gold. This touched a very deep chord. The little one was immediately tucked next to her heart. Scraps of green gingham, more layers of beautiful dyed green cotton with leaf prints, a few more sequins, a tie or two, more hair, a flower for blossoming happiness, a jewel or two, a few pearls, following our instincts. Then someone brought me an amazing gift. There, in a small velvet covered matchbox, was a tiny baby with a message in the box that read "I love you just the way you are". It was just the message she/we needed to hear. She held a stick to acknowledge the rage at her mistreatment, but it was softened by a growth of green, as she didn't want it to define her. It now looks like a wand to achieve transformation. A friend across the table said, you realize, don't you, that she is Mother Earth. A bell rang somewhere. Many people call me an Earth Mother midwife. Others have called me a Demeter figure. But of course. My inner child had blossomed into a manifestation of something that feels very natural to me. An earth mother. I was profoundly moved by the whole experience and can barely take my eyes off her. She is just right. I had never imagined that I would create something as beautiful as she is. As green as she is. But she is "No More Plain Jane" now. And I love her just the way she is.

The white doll I am holding is my midwife warrior I made in the first healing doll workshop I attended. She is full of symbolism and has a long story too. Her new red sister is also related to the meditation. She is a goddess of rage, who trails her anger behind her and has no problem expressing it. I think her story is one for another day....

Here is our group with their dolls at the end of the weekend. We all found it a very powerful and symbolic exercise, an oasis in our busy lives as mothers of children with special needs, some bereaved mothers. We had danced, including a belly dancing session, journalled, ate great food, talked, laughed, cried, discovered, meditated, slept and relaxed and shared an incredibly intimate weekend.

I am very lucky to have access to this type of workshop. It is a lifeline for me, a tool to have an inner life that allows my inside to match my outside. This doll making is a stunning exercise when taken as a whole 30 hour journey in a supported psychotherapeutic environment with trusted friends. And now I entrust the sharing of it with you, dear reader.

Peace and love.

Busy busy

Is anyone still there?

Its hard to maintain a blog on night shift, my bed is sooooo appealing.

I've had a busy week on re-entry.

I've caught ONE baby (very cute).

I've made ONE super bag (pics to follow)

I've seen ONE movie (Sex and the City - I liked it immensely)

I've been op-shopping (pics to follow)

I've got people coming for dinner in 4 minutes.

I haven't packed for journal, belly dancing and doll-making camp - and I leave at 6.30 tomorrow morning! YIKES!!

Later, friends!!!

Hubba hubba Buble

Oh. My. God.

The Michael Buble concert was BRILLIANT!!!

I was a fan before, but now I am completely smitten. What a voice.

Truth be told, he was singing just for me. I don't know who the rest of the people were at the venue tonight, but their intrusion did add a concert atmosphere. Nice of them to turn up really.

And the support act, Naturally 7? Also very, very good. Not a hardship to listen to at all. Here's a clip of them with an impromptu (?) performance on a Paris subway train.

Three hours of pure entertainment. Just a great night.

The hotel on Saturday night was a great idea. We haven't been so relaxed for months. The room was really comfortable. We had a 2-person spa, and a walk through the evening streets and a browse in a bookshop before a delicious dinner for two in a swish restaurant up the road. Slept like logs. Plans for another wander in search of breakfast was somewhat curtailed by pouring rain and wind, so we breakfasted at the hotel instead, which was pretty average.

And then back to the real world. It was such a lovely oasis. I think we'll make it a regular date. Sigh, contented sigh.

I start night shift tonight. It should be OK. I haven't done any for a few months. I might get to see a baby born (well, duh).

I'll catch you when I can.

47 years young

Hi- my name is Laura and I am fairly old. FORTY SEVEN to be exact! Today.

These are some rare self-portraits of me I just took with the webcam (it took a while to figure it out). At the exact time I was born.

Note the button necklace that has been attracting attention all day. I was feeling jaunty.

Its gonna be a big weekend. I'll make it last for 3 days.

Today I have been out for lunch with some dear friends I never see enough of.

Pizza and Black Forest cake with Mum and my brother in law and my kids tonight, then to the airport to get Don, who unavoidably had to fly to Melbourne on business today. He left home at 4am and gets back at 11pm. He left me some gorgeous flowers and bath salts, and tomorrow night we are having a grown-up night at a lovely hotel.

On Sunday my sister and I are seeing Michael Buble (squeeeeh). We're pretty excited!

Its been a big week with work. And craft. More time to post later.

Mwaah x x x

The Game

Laura's game mosaic
Originally uploaded by Laura 61

1. Laura y el aire, 2. Meyer Lemon Tarts, 3. Mirrabooka, 4. Purple Euphoria, 5. George Clooney in Dolce e Cabbana, 6. Lighthouse (and a little help), 7. Last day in Paris, 8. My wifes todays artwork: Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte (Black Forest gateau), 9. The Sahel Good Giant (Le grand baobab - The African Tree of Life), 10. Soft purple, 11. Cat Conspiracy, 12. havenCreated with fd's Flickr Toys.

Here is my contribution to the game.

Seen over at Craftapalooza, Pea soup, and Chapter III ; (oh and at Life in General and Muppinstuff too - its really catching on!!!)

The concept:

a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd's mosaic maker.

The Questions:

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name

You can play too.

Its not too hard, you just need to have two windows open and switch between the two.

Its sometimes surprising to see the photos that come up in response to a keyword. That makes it a little difficult to discern the answers to the questions, but I think that preserves a bit of mystery.

Enjoy! The photos on Flickr are amazing!!!!

P.S. I'm so stoked to find the mosaic photo maker tool! I've seen these amazing mosaics on other sites (esp. My Happy Little Life) and thought I had to pay to have a Flickr Pro account or something...I'm not cool enough, or so organised to upload all my photos on Flickr. My account is so understocked, but it is useful to be able to send a photo to my blog from there.

A special day

This morning I was called at 1.52am to attend a friend's homebirth (as a witness only) with a mutual friend who is a homebirth midwife. I was invited way back in November, such a privilege!

I zoomed down the freeway to a far distant suburb and arrived at 2.30-ish to hugs and a household full of women. We began folding washing and preparing the bed for postpartum duty. The birthing pool was filling, the house was dimly lit and the labour was stopping and starting.

Around 4am she settled into a rythm of contractions and it seemed it would go quickly, so the second midwife and another friend was called. Naturally things went off the boil, toddlers got out of bed, the mother got chatting and lost her focus, but things came and went.

I worked yesterday and I had had less than three hours of sleep. We all snuggled up in various chairs during the quiet patches, but got no more shut-eye, while the labouring woman found her Zen space in the warm water, and then chatted some more. The contractions spaced out and went off the boil a bit. It was becoming clear many attendants were going to be late for their day jobs. No pressure! We made discreet calls to our co-workers as dawn appeared, the midwives agreed to the maternal request to break the waters to speed things up a bit. Cervical dilation was not as far advanced as we had expected. There was a bit of frustration on the woman's part as this was her fourth birth. The last two had been born quickly! We all had a cuppa and recharged our batteries by taking turns sitting quietly with the woman in the pool, on the loo, and in the shower.

Around 7.30am I felt I should make a move to get to work with traffic, but was reluctant to leave. This was not something one got to take part in every day! By this stage Mum was clearly transitional, but there was a stubborn anterior lip to clear. The woman was mobilising freely in the pool, the midwives tried other positioning but in the end the answer was an internal examination to push the anterior lip back over baby's head within the birth canal. Hallelujah!Fully dilated at last.

Back to the pool. By this stage Granny was getting the others up and ready for school. The six-year old was coming in for short periods and running out like a shot when his Mum screamed with frustration and splashed the water. He doesn't like yelling.

The baby wasn't descending readily - why not? Maybe try semi-recumbent as that position had worked for the lip push-back. Finally there was a bit of movement at the station, and gradually a little head appeared. The lights were low, a torch was being shone (by me, I was delighted to have a tiny job to do) through the side of the specialized blow-up birth pool, casting enough light on the area of interest to see the steady emergence of the head. It stayed there for another contraction. The midwife checked very carefully for excessive cord at the neck - no cord, but a hand covering the left ear! Ahah! The culprit revealed! Finally after a third contraction and a mighty push the baby slid forth, unfolded and starfished up to meet her mother, who scooped her up with a gasp of relief and a triumphant grin.

'Its a girl' she announced to the wide-eyed crowd, who all teared up with delight and a multitude of other emotions. It was 8.05am.

I don't know how much she weighs. It doesn't matter. I suspect around 3.4 kg (edit - 3.5kg) . I left 3 minutes after the placenta was out at 8.20am after a physiological third stage. The cord was still pulsating slightly, providing stem cells for the pink and perfect little girl.

The six-year old thought the baby was interesting, but it had all been a bit loud! The two-year old just wanted to hold the baby on her own lap - but we explained that it was still attached to Mummy's insides, but she could have a hold soon. The four-year old was quite blase about the fact that his Mum had just given birth to a new sister in a pool of water in his living room. Surrounded by three midwives, a student midwife, his Granny and Mum's friend. One thing was for sure - the kids trooped off to school with a very big story for show and tell.

I zoomed back up the freeway to my place, got changed, cleaned my teeth, and picked up my work car, went to work, got my co-worker and went out on my rounds to see 6 clients in a 97km circuit.

Now I'm home . . . and a bit tired to tell the truth. But it was a lovely night and day.


Welcome to the world baby Alira. Your birth was the first homebirth, and second waterbirth I have ever seen. It was so special to be a part of it, however small. Your Mum was brave and beautiful, and strong.


Birth as it should be. Spontaneous. Unmedicated. Responsive. Active. Magnificent.

Catch up

OK so I've been a bit busy to blog in any proper sense of the word, but I have been taking a few photos, and thinking of what to blog.


Here is my reprobate son sunning himself in Hollywood on his balcony at a 5 star hotel. Any resemblance to a movie star is purely contrived (but he is a bit good looking). Overlooking this. Poor darling. I wonder what the other poor starving Aussie students are doing? Chances are they were not livin' large (ish) playing Magic the Gathering at a Pro Tournament - which is what Patty was doing! He had dreamed of it since he was 11 years old - this is him and his best mate at age 12, playing Magic. I think Patty is winning their game.His 12 year old birthday cake was a reproduction of a Magic card - a Shivan Dragon!! Good Lord he actually worked at it, and he won the qualifier tournament. He is now ranked 348th in the world (I think). He is capable of buckling down sometimes...I wish he displayed the same discipline at all his studies .... sigh ... although he is improving. He has reached that interesting age where (finally) he is putting in above minimum effort and getting back better grades - Who'd have thought? He is back BTW - with gifts! He's learning!

What else? I have made Steff a hat. She chose the fabric and pattern. It turned out pretty OK. She's been a bit in the wars lately, with one thing and another, achey here, a lot of podiatry there (weird feet that kid's got!) so this evening she has had an early shower and got settled into the beanbag in her new cat PJs. I'll have to stretch her tendons /torture her again soon. Its no fun.


My roses are nice at the moment. Here is a bunch of those gorgeous Chrysler Imperials that I cut and took to all of my Mums out on the visiting midwife service while working on Mother's Day. The car smelled lovely.


And here is a selection from the garden yesterday, including my new one 'Mother's Love', which I received for Mother's day (the pale pink/white on the left). The apricot one is the new Olivia Newton-John rose, pretty but not very scented :( The large mauve one is a Lucina rose - the midwife's rose. It is one I use as an ID when visiting blogs. I really like the little French Hen that lives on my outdoor table.


You know I promised to be good at the craft fair? Well . . . . I was! I did buy some stuff, but it all fitted into my handbag! Are you impressed? I was. You can see how crowded the craftroom is getting. It looks a bit better currently than it does pictured below. I'm not showing you the worst corner.


I bought a stitchery pattern stating the completely obvious. Can you read it?
It says 'You can never have too many handbags or too many friends'. But of course!



I couldn't resist some little beads from a Chinese bead man. And some fun necklace kits made entirely of buttons. I couldn't decide between the black one or the red one so guess how many of them came home with me?And another bag of buttons that I probably paid too much for but it was my day for making frivolous purchases if I wanted to. Buttons really are quite yummy to play with. I don't know anyone who can resist running their fingers through a pile of them, and sorting them into sets. I saw my sister and resisted buying anything from her stand, although she did make some pretty interesting stamped demo stuff with glazes and such. We did lunch instead.


I saw some yummy bags and patterns, and only bought ONE small collection of fabric - I'm a bit drawn to chocolate and pink at the moment. I'm wearing a lot of pink too. I bought a really lovely deep rose pink / fuchsia colour 3/4 sleeve cardigan a few weeks ago. Yummy. I've worn it a couple of times already.



I have been using buttons a bit lately - I found a handspun, handknitted cardigan in an op-shop recently for $4, yes FOUR dollars. It was too cheap to leave there. Someone had made it with love, and skill, and had taken pride in it, so it had to come home with me.Cream is not really a colour that looks fabulous on me, but I honour its creation. It had very ugly rubber buttons on it, which I removed. I then handwashed it very carefully and replaced the buttons with ones selected by two of my sisters, who had a very pleasant time sorting through my button collection, choosing for the cardigan as well as my niece's bag I showed you last time (she loved it, by the way, its already in use.) I now wear the cardie in the mornings when it is chilly, as I potter about, especially as I sit at the computer reading blogs.


I am in my last two weeks of VMS now. I think I will miss the autonomy of zipping about the suburbs, consulting on my own. I will miss the yummy babies. I have had some completely edible ones lately. Oh, young Mohammed today melted my butter completely, I actually asked his Dad for a spoon so I could eat him all up!!!! I'm glad I get to see him again tomorrow. His four big sisters are unlikely to let me get too far down the street with him though. Sigh. Ooh - he really was adorable. I am quite a connoisseur of babies and he is a very fine baby!


Young Ella last week had us in stitches, unfortunately at her own expense. She was yelling lustily, as most young ladies (and gentlemen) do when being undressed for weighing, and as I put her on the scales she somehow took a fistful of her own hair and pulled. And pulled again. And kept pulling. Poor little mite. I immediately tried to undo her tiny fist, but you know how babies just won't let go? Sigh, poor little chicken, she kept looking very surprised and indignant, and would then pull again - bringing on a fresh bout of screaming! It took about 30 seconds to gently unwind her fist, by which time she had caused quite a red patch on her scalp! OOOOWWWW! Her Mum was fantastic with her. She had had a really easy natural birth at term, was breastfeeding like a champion, very easily and naturally, nipples holding up well. The good news continued as Ella had gained 3oz in a day - which made the scale related ordeal worth it!


I had a little fellow last week who wasn't doing so well. Mum's third baby, she was nearly 40, her milk was taking a while to come in, his poo hadn't changed colour at four days of age. When I weighed him he had lost heaps of weight on day 5 of life (12.5%), and hadn't started gaining yet. I sent him in to the hospital to be checked out, as babies must be examined if they lose more than 10% of birth weight (most lose around 6-7%). It may indicate a heart condition, or a tongue tie that means they can't remove much milk from Mum's breast. I followed him up today and found he did have a tongue tie, and was only transferring 4mls of milk at a feed! That's why he hadn't been pooing the right colour - it was barely getting through! Yet Mum's breasts were full of milk. She started pumping to remove the milk for him, and shoved it down his neck with a teat that delivered it more easily into his mouth. He is to have a frenotomy next week (where a surgeon nicks the frenulum under the tongue) and will be reintroduced to the breast after that, when it should be much easier to move his tongue effectively. I feel bad that I missed it when I saw him on two visits. He wasn't damaging the nipple, so I wasn't looking for it, and when I observed attachment he was moving and sucking in an apparently effective way, and I observed swallowing too! I'm glad he is turning the corner.


I've learned heaps in visiting midwifery. Its a matter of putting it all together, which I feel I am getting better at doing. I've had student midwives, and today I've had a graduate midwife with me. We toss around ideas, and at each house (as we drive away) I ask them if they would say or do anything different, and we discuss the things we have just seen, or houses we have been at!


There are so many delightful families out there in parenting land from all different cultures. Pets getting to know the new baby, siblings squirming for a front row seat at the action, or by Mum's side as she feeds the new one. Half naked men answering the door sleepily, and leading us back to their bedrooms, where we then ALL roll about on the bed, observing feeds, feeling the fundus, checking out the stitches, weighing breasts in hands, with the man in bed too, helping them all to understand the new family member, encouraging a love-in in the early days that will hopefully carry over to a harmonious family life. Its an intimate job.



I love it!

ABC

A is for ants.

I would like to know why ants seem to love my study and computer area. As I sit here there are a few busy little ones wandering around, singly or in straggly pairs, sniffing out morsels and molecules of goodness. There's a few in the kitchen too, and they leave the sugar pot alone, but last night they got into a fresh cake on a plate by sneaking under the plastic wrap.

When Steff had a bottle of lemonade in here yesterday they went crazy! (big surprise). I noticed the trail - from the windowsill, down the wall and the phone wires, apparently through the printer, down the side of the shelf, across the mousepad and keyboard - was much more substantial than usual and followed it to a capped bottle, with hopeful ants swarming around the sides. Yelling was involved. And swishing aside of queues of ants - no flyspray, just removal of the source of the frenzy.

Today there are still a few tiny hopefuls sniffing around, waiting to get lucky again. I am about to take my empty cup OUT again! Hold on...

Right ... back again. OK.

B is for bag

Are you surprised?

I found the pattern I needed for a big bag the same as I made for myself and my sister in 2006. Have I shown you these before? These are the originals of my 'sister bags', that spawned my pouches. I am unable to find a link to the patternmaker/supplier, sorry, but it is a Fair Mades pattern FM15 called the Gypsy Travelling Bag.Her daughter wants one, and she ordered creams and light beiges, maybe a bit of blue. My sister was here for a few days in early May and approved this pile of ingredients for the bag. So off I went. The palest creamy beige-suedette. The fine baby corduroy with the slate blue paisley print is actually a recycled skirt, the cream elements are obviously crocheted doilies, plus a selection of buttons, and a gorgeous creamy fine jaquard check for the lining. The young lady receiving this bag is a stylish filly, with very expensive tastes in bags, but she apparently is keen to have her own Aunty Janey bag, which is very large and roomy. You can fit a lot of ballet shoes and leotards in it! I felt the pressure not to have it look too much like a crafter made her a bag with doilies and yo-yos! Its not usually my style, but the yo-yos are part of the pattern that she professes to love.

I often make my own patterns for bags, and am fairly fussy about my fabric combos, but this pattern is fairly easy in its construction and I quite liked the colour/fabric choices here. So here it is. Drumroll...

Ten hours of work later. I could never sell these and get a fair price for them that recovered a decent hourly rate, but I am satisfied with it. It has a big jacket zip in it, that closes a placket at the top or sits opened flat against the sides. (Ooh - it matches my sofas! And my floor.)

Each one I have made I have quilted and decorated a bit differently from the pattern. I like the range of buttons. I love the lining fabric. The wrinkled doily application is deliberate. I'm pleased with the slate blue colour. This is the back.

Ducks and pearls (featured on the buttons) have a special significance. It is even monogrammed in a discreet location.

I was very brave and 'steeked' the doily to cut it into segments. Piece of cake - I'd do it again!

Now that it is photographed and blogged it is heading to Melbourne! Its certainly a custom-made 'one of a kind'. I hope she likes it!!

C is for craft.

Its the mega craft and quilt show this week in my neck of the woods. A travelling marketing circus, with stalls and stalls of temptations to overfill my stash even further. Yikes!! I have attended these things religiously for about 10 years, but missed out last year due to night duty and a foot injury. Boo-hoo. I don't think my stash or my wallet missed it too much ;P

However I am going today! I finished 6 days straight of driving around the far reaches and beyond of our metropolitan sprawl, and I am pretty exhausted. But today is the day without my daughter at home, and I should take advantage of the opportunity for exercise and walk around and get inspired/tempted/sell my soul to the devil for the latest thing/broke at the fair! Another of my sisters is working on a stamping stall at the show. I should be safe from that temptation, although you never know....

Comfy shoes? Check. Ankle braces on? Check! Painkillers in pocket? Check! Empty hand made bag for purchases? Check!

I'll try and be good!

P.S. B is also for Big Baby Boy! Did I tell you my son (the semi-professional card player) is in Hollywood and hasn't called me to let me know he arrived safely? That's a whole 'nuther story!

Boobs are my bag

Ooh I have just read this post from Lisa. I am so envious. How inspiring.

Somehow I have forgotten to attend any conferences or workshops this last year. I am aghast, as I love going to those things. I wonder if its because of the rostering hassles of being a rotational midwife. I move around a lot, each 8 weeks or so, and am constantly unsure of whether I will be on nights, or whatever. I am also a bit vague and unorganised about making roster requests in advance, especially when I don't know the area I will be working in, or its a new area for me.

Its a big hospital, I am often a long way from where I must go to make the request (if I remember to do it). I am often tired. I don't have access to the computerised in-house rostering program either - what a nuisance. Some areas make rosters 6-8 weeks in advance, some only 2 weeks in advance. Its one of those health system workforce things that I haven't quite adjusted to yet. I am such a slow learner about some things. Sigh.



Anyway I have resolved that i will make roster requests to give myself ONE day at home per week with no 'kids', which means Thursday currently. Unfortunately, given that visiting midwives tend to need continuity of clients, that means that out of the last 8-9 weekends I have worked 6 of them - both days! Groan. I start again on Friday and work 6 days straight, then get a week off, including my first weekend in a month! There has got to be a better way! I have made requests for my first few weeks in LBS for mid-June. Lets see what I get!



Its fairly self-inflicted, and think of all the money I get working on weekends. Anyhoo.... I think I have finished whining about that. You're probably very relieved. (This is my daughter in 1993).
I have had an interesting couple of weeks on the road, and met some interesting families. I have seen some incredibly large and engorged breasts!!! They could easily be feeding twins, but they each had only one small baby to deal with all that milk! Then later in the day I would see other scrawny babies whose mothers were a bit half-hearted about feeding them diligently, who were not gaining weight. I could have put them in my pocket and taken them to the next house and put baby to the breast of that over-supplied woman! If only I could do that! Or feed them myself!



I have noticed that I am experiencing let-down again while on VMS. I used to get it on the postnatal ward, especially when I first started in midwifery. Its never really left me, even after more than 18 years since I last breastfed a baby. (ooh there it is again, just thinking about it). I don't mind. I don't leak or anything, but I still experience it. I feel it means that I am just very connected to this field, and that it means that my body is passionate about breastfeeding too! See what I mean - body and soul!! I am coming to realise that I know a lot about this area.
The photos throughout this post are mostly of a much younger me, from 1989, when I was breastfeeding my daughter. Above is our first mother-daughter photo - she is about 8 minutes old and I am having a quick cuddle before she went to intensive care. (Yes, I am on the floor. Yes I am naked. Be grateful I cropped out the cord hanging out! TMI?) She was born with a cleft palate as part of a syndrome, so was unable to feed directly. In fact she never went directly to the breast. Below is the breast pump I used in hospital - this photo was taken when Steff was a few weeks old, and we were still living in hospital together.
I am moved to see this photo of Patty, age 3, with his sister aged 3 weeks. Still being nursed on her stomach as all babies with her syndrom are (Pierre-Robin Syndrome). It was pretty hard for him to lose his Mum to this strange little sister. Maybe not much has changed in 19 years.This one, with me being sooky, is of my last express, when she was 29 weeks of age. I always cry at big occasions. I was sad but triumphant, and baked a boob cake to celebrate my achievements. (My hair is pretty bad here, I had just got up, and it was shorter as it had all fallen out postpartum. Did that happen to you too? I always lost my hair after giving birth.)


I did try to express directly into her mouth one time, but as she had a gag reflex from hell and thought every attempt to put anything into her mouth was a threat/an attempt to kill her, she retched and vomited straight away after the first few drops, losing far more nutrition than those drops had given her. Sigh. It was too confronting and directly wasteful/punishing to see this milk wasted in this fashion, and she threw up so much on a daily basis that her growth was severely compromised anyway, so I didn't try it again.



This photo is from one of those rare times when Stephanie actually fed orally in a coordinated fashion, where she cried with hunger and accepted her mouth being filled (delivered from from a soft-sided squeezy bottle because she couldn't generate the suction to get it from a bottle like regular babies), then swallowed - without gagging. It was a miracle to us to see her do it, hence the photo.



She only did it 7 times in her first year of life. It still brings tears to my eyes to think of those sessions.



So to see half a dozen little babies daily, attach at the breast and suck for all their lives are worth, and do it every two hours! Wow, what a miracle. What a privilege to feed your baby that way. I know ... I did it for nearly 18 months with Patty. He fed heartily, lustily, frequently until that time, and was still feeding to sleep most times, and waking to feed in the night when I decided I'd wean so I wouldn't be getting up in the night to him just to feed. It seemed like a good idea at the time. If I'd known that it would be the last time I would have a babe at my breast I would have gone on.....

I have breastfed two children. In very differing fashions. My only reason to have another child would have been to have another beautiful period of feeding. I did love it so. I think I did it well. This photo is from 1996, Patty 10, Steff, 7.



So this is another aspect of my life that I can bring to my practise.Its not about me, and I rarely mention it to any mothers I care for, but when they are pumping to establish or boost supply I can genuinely identify with their task.

I remind them that growth spurts happen, and to let them happen, and to surrender to it. These are the periods where the baby wants to feed constantly, a mother will say 'I have no milk' or 'my milk dried up'. We hear it a lot. But with the right information and support from her family, and only if she wants to (because some women don't really mind whether they feed or not, and I'm not gonna force them) our imparted knowledge will mean that she knows how to maintain and boost her supply, and the lactation bond will continue.



I like boobs. And babies. And bumps. Lucky I'm a midwife, hey?