Fingerprints All Over My Heart:
At Home-Day 3
Well folks I think I am going to live. Still clearing up my cold, so taking advice and drinking water and resting. I thought that it would be helpful to my mental and heart processes for me to write out a few little "cameos" on the dear midwives, and some of my deeper impressions of Shiphrah and the Philippines. These next few posts may be a bit of hodgepodge, but I want to do this while the impressions are still sharp. I will be including pictures as well when possible thanks to the photographic efforts of my friend Rachel Hodges Jamison. It was a time of great personal growth and though my actions did not always meet with my own approval (I am TRYING to learn to be easier on myself), I think that in the end, even my human fallibility will become an important part of the big picture. As I have said before one of the greatest pains that I carry with me is that feeling of always being "not enough" and at the same time "too much". I work hard each day to shake haunting of those twin spectres. I will forever be grateful for each moment that I shared with each individual. Those are the little gems that form the necklace of memories that I wear around my neck, and each memory is like a prayer I murmur under my breathe as the stones slip through my fingers one by one like a cherished rosary. More to come.

Well I kinda thought maybe my transition was a little too smooth. Managed to stay up until 9:30 or so last night and went to bed. Had a restless night where my body was playing tricks on me... one minute sweating and needing the fan, then waking up an hour later freezing and shivering and reaching for my small heating blanket. Other parts of me acting weird too. Bladder working over time forcing several trips to the bathroom (I think my body thinks I should be UP, not sleeping). All of my healing mosquito/spider/ant bites feel miserable too for some reason. Add to that the strange fact that my skin/pores seem to "hurt" in some strange indefinable way. Also every few hours I get mysterious cramps down deep in my tummy that I cannot seem to define. Laid in bed until 5 am and then although I was sleeping lightly felt my body go into full sugar crash mode and knew I had a manner of minutes to get some eggs and toast into me before I spent the day throwing up, shaking and sick. Nipped that particular evil in the bud, but my blood sugar is still very tenuous and I know from experience that I will have to be very careful in the next couple of days as I still feel a bit shaky and unsteady in that department. Damned hypoglycemia! My head is hurting and the strange "summer cold" I picked up in Taytay is finally working it's way out with lots of deep chest coughing and sneezing. I suppose just as my heart and mind will have to process the change back to my homeland so will my body. Thank you Cindy Holt for the Life Shotz. I think they are going to be a godsend. I definitely feel the need to build up my strength and immunity. Now I am torn between thinking I should try to stay up all day to continue to switch my body to the right time zone and the intuition that I need to take it easy and not push myself too hard. With all that is happening physically I can tell that my heart and mental processing has come to a standstill. That is fine... "one" thing at a time girl, one thing at a time..... For now I give myself to be at peace with doing as little as possible! Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof.... or something along those lines.

Slept all night! Didn't get up until 7:00 a.m. Wonderful to sit at my kitchen table and have breakfast with my family... sit in my own home church and worship with my brothers and sisters... and later to sit around the table and spend time with my older kids and grandkids. This evening I will go and "simply be" with my sister for the evening. I still haven't really "caught up" to myself yet so I am sure I have a lot of adjusting to do. Little things produce unbidden prickling of my eyes, tightening of my throat or outright R.C.M.'s (random crying moments) before I know they are coming: The way my bed felt when I laid down, the smell of my children, the way my kitchen chairs feel so "comfortable" and so "right" under me, being surrounded by my own pretty things and my own familiar places, driving my car, warm water out of the faucet, a warm bath, putting on my church clothes, seeing my friends faces at church filled with true joy at seeing me again, worship songs drifting in from the living room as I was waking up this morning blending with the smell of coffee and my husband frying bacon, feeling my husband curl into my back and breathe in my scent as I slept, laughing with my kids over you tube videos.... all these plus myriad other things are blessing me so deeply today. I had a good discussion with Deborah Gustafson while at Shiphrah about learning to not feel guilty for who and what we are, and for what is normal to us. This was in reference to wanting to help so many others who are in such dire straits. That was a good conversation to have and I still feel the weight of her wisdom blessing me as I make the adjustment to being back home. Still what it has produced in me is thankfulness. I am so grateful for this life of mine. I am so grateful for the clothes in my closet, my pictures on the wall, the warm water that comes instantly out of the faucet, the food in the pantry and refrigerator, and the fact that I am dearly, dearly loved back here in my home place. It is enough as I rest, recuperate and readjust. I am satisfied.

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 60: 2nd Travel Day
There is a kind of chaos that follows me everywhere I go. Well maybe “follows” isn’t the right word, I think that it is more that I generate it somehow. It is born from something inside me. Often it comes after I have worked out things, gone through a healing passage and hit that place of accepting myself. Then boom! I will inadvertently do something stupid, or irresponsible. Or I will try to set something up with good intentions and have it all kind of end in a mess. Then my old companions “insecurity” and “low self esteem” show back up. My husband jokingly told me once I was named appropriately: Margaret Ann. Margaret means pearl and Ann means grace or gracious. He said that I am a precious jewel…but one that is made slowly over time from a source of irritation! And then I find my middle name a bit ironic because my mom would always sarcastically say “Well… GRACE!” Whenever I would trip, stumble or fumble, which was often since I am not the most coordinated person sometimes. I still catch myself saying it to myself under my breathe when I am clumsy. Now, I think that my husband’s old joke has a kind of beautiful truth to it. What started out as something not so great is turning, slowly but surely into something of worth. It is just that I get so passionate about things that I want to share, or I get excited to get everyone together and have a good time, and then in my efforts I sometimes fumble and create a scene in my effusion and exuberance where someone is offended or made uncomfortable.
Here is a quote I came across today:
“Every passion borders on chaos, that of the collector on the chaos of memory.” Walter Benjamin. I have this little collection of memories that often brings a wry smile to my face when I think of the little disasters i have left behind in my lifetime. I always feel so guilty about such things, but what is done is done. Kind of my own "string of pearls"... little irritating scenes that have become beautiful and precious over time.
When I think of the trouble and bother that I have caused sometimes in my deep need for beauty, and the need I have to surround myself with some beauty in this life I admit I cringe  little. In 1673 a scientist named Nicolaus Steno was saying the dedication of a newly opening anatomical theatre (an operating room where others can observe and learn). In his speech he said “Beautiful is what we see. More beautiful is what we understand. Most beautiful is what we do not comprehend.” Oh those words grip me! I think about some of the things I have seen that brought me to tears in the Philippines. Little unexpected things… things I see, that I understand but whose deeper meaning I can scarcely comprehend!  A dirty grey building that is falling down. Part of it still stands and that part has been divided to make apartments. Along the ridge formed by the crumbling windows someone has created a row of beautiful tropical plants in a mish mash of various pots and buckets. I am struck by the love and care that someone took to decorate his or her strip of dirty grey wall. In one flower pot a kitten sleeps and again my heart is touched by the tenuousness of this life. I know my life isn’t pretty sometimes… sometimes all that is left for me is a little strip of dirty grey wall. But damn it! I must bring some love, beauty and care to “my little strip of wall”. My passion COMPELS me! Perhaps a tired, half starved kitten will find solace there… or maybe even my own tired half starved heart will rest there. For it is peace that I seek… the peace that steals over me when I have created something that pleases me… The plants look pretty sitting in the sun on the ledge. The kitten stretches and yawns. I make myself remember that someone had to stir up a little dirt and make a mess to create this scene. I am sure amongst the pots, and the dirt and the cuttings that there was quite a lot of chaos generated. Someone’s passion for beauty is what gave them the drive to create this lovely contrast that moves me to tears.
So I fumble along in my own overly passionate way. I accidently step on peoples toes along the way. In my deep need to help, to mother, to simply extend my friendship I am sure I have made many, many cultural and social blunders. Forgive me my dear friends. I am only a human. I am flawed. But I must have faith knowing that little grain of sand is growing into something good. My deep life pain gets the better of me sometimes and it overflows and must find outlet, and so in those moments I make a fool of myself or cause someone I love pain. I am encouraged by some of the healing I have found on this trip. I am feeling that I may have finally found my “reset button”. Oh, I am sure that I will continue along my normal chaotic way, for that is simply part of my personality, but I want to live up to the expectations of my own heart. My heart expects me to be a good wise woman. Ok… so a bringer of Chaotic passion. But the incomprehensible deep beauty is the prize so it is worth it! 

I love traveling... and hate it. I hate it because it takes me totally out of my comfort zone, I love it because I can tell that is good for me. I have seen lots of things, even in my one day here, and discovered yet another culture that loves to put beauty in where ever they can... just because! Thank you Korea! I so understand! I was out walking (and freezing) and spotted a grate on the ground. Just a common grate to drain off excess ground water in a pretty little park. It was half covered with leaves but it caught my attention because it was made in a lovely pattern of swirling vines, flowers, and a hummingbird. Who would need such a thing? Ummmm... that would be me. A stranger in a strange land, where I can't understand most of what is happening around me... Ahhh.... but I understood that!

So I am inside the airport and now sporting a pair of soft sweat pants (they fit a little weird though... do these people have no butts... oh! wait, never mind scratch that), and a cozy hoodie. I have discovered that walking around for two days with sandals (flip flops) and socks can produce the strangest foot and calf cramps.... AAANNNNDDD SOOOO..... now I have a cute pair of TOMS on my foot foots! I may not be all that stylish but at least I will be comfy for the 11 hours flight home. Can't wait to slide into a pair of jeans though, that is for sure!
I will talk to you all next when I am on the other side of the world.

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 38: Last Day!!!
In my quiet times of contemplation I often find myself sifting through my favorite birth room memories. Births and birth rooms are truly lovely moments and places in a midwife’s life. The are like precious jewels to be taken out and admired. I do hesitate to give them too much glory or weight however. You may wonder at my reasoning when I say that. Let me try to explain what I mean by that statement. Midwifery has its ups and downs like any work. It has much hard work that goes into helping assure that there is as much safety and evidence based care given during the actual birth, but when you consider the hours that you will spend with each of “your ladies” it is a relatively small piece of the big picture. Much of the “success” of each birth is directly related to the preparation that occurs beforehand. It has to do with your lady’s nutrition, her psycho-social state, her spiritual state, her mental state, her fear level, her level of comfort with you as a person. These issues can be affected by how much prenatal time, education hours, time spent reviewing her chart to understand her overall stasis, and time spent simply listening to her and holding space for her as a person. Of course the responsibility is not all on you, it is important how much time and effort she puts into her own health, spiritual state, mental state, family situation, etc. It is a real team effort between you, the woman herself and her support persons. Much of it can be thought of as tedium. This is where we get down to the real nitty gritty of being a midwife. Yes, ok, it is impressive that we can power through those long labors and difficult births, yes it is awesome that we have so many education hours, or CEU’s, or seminars, or certificates. It is good, it is needed. But the true part of where we minister to our women is the hours we sit across from them, and take the initial history, do the prenatal visits, and listen… and listen… and listen. This is much of the real art of midwifery. If you find this part almost unbearable, or tedious, or boring, then I doubt if you really understand what it is going to take to be a good midwife. It is about women, their lives, their stories, their pregnancies and finally their births. We must love all the little parts of this work, but most of all we must love the women.

Fingerprints All Over My Heart

Day 36

My days are flying past and they are bittersweet. Sweet because each passing moment brings me that much closer to holding my loves in my arms, and oh so bitter because I must leave behind such wonderful people who have become part of me. I have much to accomplish in these next few days and I am thankful for it, for it gives me little time for sadness. I spent yesterday finishing up some of my college evals with my dear friend Jeri Gunderson. We are both “down home types” and the familiar little homilies and colloquialisms that roll off her tongue make me feel right at home while tickling my funny bone. We were like two girls sitting side by side and joking and laughing away the afternoon one moment and then segueing seamlessly into wise-woman discussions about life, God, feminism, midwifery, culture and a myriad of other subjects as the afternoon shadows grew. One of my great sorrows is to leave behind my new friend. We enjoyed an instant rapport with one another and settled into the comfortable place old friends can find themselves in where one can disagree with the other and it is all good. I have found it so enjoyable to be able to be totally comfortable with my own opinions and have the liberty to use my voice without being judged. Thank you Jeri for holding that space for me. I pray that I will take these lessons to heart and always know how to be that kind of friend myself. You have taught me many things but I think the most important is that it is ok to be the strong, loud, sensitive, funloving, opinionated, thinking, feeling, healing, hurting, changing, and totally human woman that I am. It feels really good to have friendship be a safe place to dwell in. What a gift your sharp wit, intelligence, strong personality and gentle loving heart have been to me. You give me great courage through your example.

Yesterday evening we had the last of the Tuesday night dinners (for me). We gather at Jeri’s and she and her daughter always prepare some wonderful American comfort food for all of us homesick interns. Then we enjoy the food and the fellowship of good friends in a family style dinner where children and adults all gather around one table. It has been such good therapy and always a safe haven where once again I am free to be me without fear of judgment. Thanks to Sarah, Jeri, Deborah, Darren, Auden, Aubrey, and Bernadette for creating the dynamic in which we can rest our culture stressed souls. I will never forget, and I am forever grateful. Love to you all.

Today I am heading off for an adventure in the safe care of Helen, the house manager. We are going across the city to an outdoor market. Yea! SHOPPING!

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 53
So many wonderful births these last few days. Once again we are back to the pull of a "Midwife's Moon" and it is glorious! I am basking in the light of this ministry of ministries! I am so, SO blessed!
I am resting after a slightly difficult birth. The baby was asynclitic and had one of the biggest caputs that I have seen in this country. The father was wonderfully supportive every moment, and the mother was uncomplaining though I saw her wipe away multiple tears and beads and beads of sweat. The most wonderful part was when the father asked two different times if he could pray for his dear wife and unborn baby. We all said yes right away and we all prayed together. Once again I am in “midwife church” and yes God was very much in the room, but He always is. Later he asked again to pray and I said “Pray brother, we are all behind you, we will all pray!” He looked at me so gratefully (they were young, only 23 and 24), and then he stretched out his hands and prayed with wonderful passion and strength for his sweet young wife. The baby was born rather stunned and floppy and the couple seemed a bit stunned themselves, especially when they saw their little daughter’s head. It was so swollen! After I placed the wet, toneless baby on her mama's tummy, I was drying and rubbing the baby and encouraging them to hold on to and talk to her. I saw the father get a hold of himself and reach down and gently cup his baby’s still wet and bloody head in his palm and speak gently to her. She instantly coughed and breathed, and began to pink up. Ahhh…. I thought, she knows her father’s voice… Mother and baby are fine and the swelling is already subsiding. The sweet baby girl is a carbon copy of her gorgeous mother and the father has stars of love in his eyes for “his girls”.
A couple of days ago I did my first set of sutures on someone who was terrified and fought me every minute. Poor girl, she had to be coached through the whole thing and we still had to help hold her legs open and still so I could fix her up. It wasn’t pain so much as terror at what I was doing. Of course it was so difficult that it took longer than it should so I am sure she felt the last couple of pokes from the needle (guilt, guilt, guilt!), but I was so close to being done I figured she could either feel the 2 or three pokes of the suture needle or the 2 or 3 pokes of the lidocaine needle, both were going to hurt and the lidocaine was going to sting besides. That was a good experience nevertheless for I learned how to suture a jagged tear, and I learned how to suture under pressure, in a hard to reach place.
On another birth I learned a few variables in position changes to help get a rather stuck asynclitic baby to come down into the pelvis. The midwives here have several things they try: full squat, side lying, lithotomy (doulas and midwives all know that despite it’s bad rap, there are just some moms who want to birth in this position and who will only fully relax enough on their backs to let the baby come down), and McRoberts. They are patient and gentle, and if they see a position is causing too much swelling or no progress they will try something else. I work very hard at not letting my former experiences invade my thinking. What I mean by that is this: I have had those experiences, they are mine forever. This is a new set of experiences, and if I want to own them fully I must totally lay down my “superior student knowledge” (I hope you know I say that with dripping sarcasm) and watch and learn from these women every golden grain of knowledge I can glean. Yes, I have studied all the suggested textbooks; yes, I have taken innumerable classes and seminars on the subject; yes, I have my own philosophies on just about any area of this wonderful art of midwifery. The point is, that it would be utterly ridiculous for me to travel halfway around the world so I could use the knowledge I already have. I came to learn THEIR ways, I came to see THEIR 20 years of experience in action. Combined it is about 100 years of experience and it is very impressive to see it in action. Do they do it all according to the latest evidence based practices? If you are going to ask that question then maybe you should just stop reading this right now, for you have already missed the point of this post. They do what works, what works for them, with this particular demographic of women, what they have learned through time and experience, from kneeling at the feet of thousands of women. You can’t buy that kind of empirical knowledge but if you are very, very careful and very very wise maybe someone can pass it on to you. And if you are one of those really lucky apprentices you wisely shut your mouth and reach HARD for the baton and finish this most fantastic of races. It is a race that is being won every day across the globe by teams of midwives and apprentices. The race to keep the art of midwifery alive and functioning in a rather strange and complicated modern medical system. Onwards and Upwards Girls! Onwards and Upwards!!!

Fingerprints All Over My Heart:
Day 52.
In the home stretch and feeling mixed emotions. I am missing my family hugely at this point, but I know that I will miss these lovely days, these lovely people, Jeri and family, my fantastic midwives and my dear sister interns so very much. I have much to accomplish in the next few days and feel the weight of that laying heavy on my shoulders. I do not know how to reconcile all the mixed up feelings swirling around inside of me and the inner storm stole away much of my sleep last night This is made more difficult by an actual storm of rain that began last night and continues still and a cold that has been plaguing me for the last two days. I am hoping today will be the worst of it. My chest and head feel heavy and sluggish. It has been raining since last night and it is still falling relentlessly. I keep expecting that sweet cool dessert air that comes with Arizona rains but the air is close and humid and I feel a bit suffocated. No patients today with the rains, but the change in the barometer may bring some labors. I have much paperwork to finish tonight but for now I think I will take care of myself with a short nap. I know that so much of what I am processing needs to be written down, but for now I will rest. More later.

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 48
Learning lessons that are oh so important. Mostly about different cultures, personalities and relationships. Learning that when I speak, those words leave my lips…. travel through space (and time) and lands in the ears (and hearts) of others, but the variables of what the other person may think I meant are infinitesimal. Learning that when another person says something to you and it travels back across the room that you may hear something totally different than what they actually said and meant. I want to be the kind of midwife who can listen with her heart, her mind, with relevant cultural sensitivity, with relevant “personality” sensitivity. I want to do this in a way that helps me to serve others and still fulfill the calling of the powerful woman that God wants me to be… a woman of Virtue! (for those of you that don’t know it, when the bible talks about the woman of Virtue it is the same term as mighty man of Valor. I want to be a wise warrior woman, fighting FOR women, fighting FOR midwives everywhere, fighting FOR apprentices everywhere…. those are my true battles. When other issues arise it is only the enemy's way of keeping my eyes and heart off of the really important things. Those “things” aren’t things at all of course, but people. People are who I want to serve… who I need to serve… who I am CALLED to serve. Whether they are my sister students/midwives, my beautiful birthing mamas, their families or those sweet babies arriving earthside, or my own circle of loved ones, this is what My creator has made me for, and it is the most wonderful “job” imaginable!
Today there was the most lovely woman that came in to have her baby. It had been a long journey for her and she had started labor three times only to have it stop again. I had already spent one long night on labor watch with her and so was excited for her that she was finally in active labor. Through it all, she smiled, and Smiled… AND SMILED! Her smile was so great and so deeply genuine! Her husband and little boy were with her and they were all equally happy and contented, even with the extended laboring. I will forever have the picture of them in my head with her on the birthstool, her husband right behind supporting her and curling into her, and their little two or three year old boy nonchalantly leaning on dad and playing a video game on their phone as the baby begins to emerge. Birth happens folks, and it is a wonderful thing when it is part of the fabric of life. The baby was good sized with cherubic features and a lovely contented nature. The mom had a couple of minor issues afterward that dictated a longer postpartum watch but what a great blessing! The family and I had wonderful conversations and they asked many questions. We segued easily into learning about each other’s families and I feel blessed to have a little peek into this beautiful family’s lives.
God is teaching me things… good things, hard things, painful things, humbling things, beneficial things, growing things, selfless things, maturing things, joyful things, BLESSED things! Thank you, thank you for my daily lessons!

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 46
Sorry about the “radio silence” folks, sometimes the ol heart and brain need a break. It has been a long time since I wrote so what I have for you are lots of snapshots coming to mind as I sit and remember…
Moments of hilarity:
Rachel F. running out of the apartment, dashing up the stairs in her pj’s with bra in hand because the text message she received made her think the mom was pushing….. And me, tearing out of the house behind her and running through the yard… also in my pj’s. (we made it!)
Me being so tired that I fell asleep (and slowly tipped over onto the other bed) charting heart tones….
Rachel F. being so tired that she starts rambling about things that make no sense to the mama…. coming back to herself she hears her self saying to the mom who is pushing on the birthing stool… “for weeks and weeks”… (and then wonders what else she just told this mom…ha!).
Me being so slap happy tired that I ask a laboring mama to “come in and sit down please”…. in Spanish. Then I am trying to figure out why every one is staring at me like I have grown a third eye.
Rachel F…. after waiting and waiting for the head to appear thought she had missed it somehow when she saw in a split second the whole dark head out but off to one side, but then realized she had mistaken the polished edge of the birthing stool for the baby’s head….
Moments of profundity:
Trying to find a way to deal with a young woman (who we were sure had been abused in the sex industry) through her labor… how to help her feel in charge of herself, while at the same time make her feel safe and cared for…. (Oh God, give me wisdom).
Telling her to show us what she wanted… and when words failed her she took my hand and guided it to the place on her body that hurt the most and showed me exactly how hard to press…. ahhh… Now she is my teacher, and I am her student.
Being near her for hours, feeling her humanity, her frailty, looking at her beautiful young face and the uncertainty that lived there…. uncertainty for her life, uncertainty for her baby, uncertainty for any kind of future… ah but there is strength inside her as well…. nothing for me to do but be near her as she labors…
Moments of pity:
Looking down on her legs there are scars, upon scars… and sores, upon sores…. some are insect bites, some are from some kind of abuse and look suspiciously like cigarette burns (indeed, some are open and weeping sores), some are from some kind of eastern “treatment” of folk remedy (the cure here is apparently as bad as her original affliction).
Hearing the baby’s heart rate go too low, then too high, then settle into a very non reassuring rhythm, I come to the hard decision that I will not be able to see this poor girl through the end of her journey, though I want to with all of my heart. I know that the priority is her safety and the baby’s safety, and this isn’t going to be the safest place for her.
During transport hearing her call her “boyfriend” (perhaps, also perhaps her pimp, or owner) and tearfully beg for help as we are driving. He is uninterested, and keeps hanging up. She calls him back again and again and tells him to come quickly and bring money. It was very sad.
Moments of insecurity and self-doubt: Did I wait too long, did I not wait long enough? Should I have tried harder to get her through her delivery? Or perhaps I should have made the call earlier (lots of extenuating circumstances so it was a hard call either way)? Talking it through with the midwife after and realizing that I had done all right. This girl’s journey is what it is and I fulfilled all that I could according to the scope of practice here. Although my heart wasn’t at ease (because I love so hard when I love, and OH! How I wish I could gather some of these girls in and heal their wounds!), still I did my work as the gatekeeper of safety and got her the care she needed under circumstances.
Moments of homesickness: Laying in bed alone in my room later… the tears are running and I am thinking how good it would feel to… ride in the car and sing at the top of my lungs with my Jordann… sit in my living room and listen to my brilliant Trey explain some mystery of the universe to me,… sit in the rocking chair with my Khloé molded to my body as I rock… and softly sing…. lay in my own bed with my husband’s body pressed into my back, his breath on my neck, and feeling his love all around me….
Yesterday:
Standing in line to buy some food, and looking at all the foreign dishes and trying to figure out what I want… I am struck in a moment: I WANT to go home… I WANT to sit at my Sunday dinner table and eat Mexican food with all my kids and grandkids… this is what I WANT! I choke back my tears and order a strange tasting burger, and eat a strange too salty fries…. Almost done, I tell myself… finish well Margie… finish WELL!

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 39 Part 2
Cannot resist posting again. Just had a baby born in the caul. To those of you who do not know what that means it means the baby was born inside the membranes. The baby was out to her feet before it burst and as I brought the mama up I simply undraped his first "blanket" revealing his perfection to us all! Lovely, simple, perfect birth for this mama of four. She had only been in the building for about 10 minutes or so when we began to see the clear, beautiful "crystal ball" issuing forth from her body. I am so, so blessed! She is vibrant and already up eating, and the baby has had a little "nip" of colostrum and is peacefully drifting off to dreamland. I know in some ways it is not a good picture of the typical birth, but all midwives will see these sometimes and what a huge rush, affirmation of our principles, and blessing they are! Good job mama, good job baby and good job birth team! We all did well!

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 39
I am not sure if anything will come of this, but I have shared the story of Ate (pronounced Ahh Tay) Beth. She is a beautiful hard working mother of 8 children who was sold into the human slavery market as a child herself. She doesn't remember her family, but the people who "bought" her taught her some skills that have helped her survive along with her own indomitable spirit. She is smart and has a wonderful work ethic herself, but also has a child who is graduating from high school very soon. She is very concerned because she doesn't have enough to pay for her daughter's first year of college. Through our conversation I came to understand how proud she is of her daughter (whose grades are excellent). This girl wants to become a teacher. There is so little chance for some of these people to rise above their level of poverty, even with intelligence and a wonderful work ethic. But for a few who could possibly achieve the credentials then there could be a difference made. The amazing part is this girls first year of college would only cost about $500 dollars. Cheap to us, but a fortune for this woman who charges a measly 6 bucks for an entire weeks laundry. And she washes it out in a bucket all by hand. She works 7 days a week for various people but labor is very cheap here, so between all of her various children and the cost of living she cannot seem to get ahead. I wonder if among my teacher friends, and all my friends and family if we couldn't make a difference and at least help pay for this girl's first year. What do you say folks? 10 dollars? 20? More... ??? I am going to try to scrape something together before I leave, because this woman inspires me so... and I am sure her children are all amazing despite the hard hand that poverty has dealt them. Just a thought... just a thought!

Fingerprints All Over My Heart

Day 37

Days of frustration and anxiety are hard on a girl. I have come to a conclusion: Computers were put on this earth to make me crazy! Actually it’s not really the computer per se, but rather the large conglomeration of paper work/logging/evaluations, etc. that are converging here during this time. To further my sense of frustration I will forget how to enable some certain feature in a program, or how to get to a certain place online that I am supposed to complete some task at, or even get stumped in searching out some basic things on google for instance (how many ways CAN you re-word a question before you hit on the magic combination of words?). Then I will have some random midwifery question come my way and although I know I have gone over that subject a thousand times I cannot form an intelligent informed answer at all. This creates a very deep well of fear inside of me. I think to myself  “Have you wasted your own time and your family’s time, not to mention so many resources on this journey, only to find yourself in the final stretch and not be able to finish?” Perhaps all students of every discipline feel such moments (hours? Days? Weeks? Years?) of pure insecurity in their ability to finish the course set before them? All the responsibilities on my shoulders at this time seem so overwhelming some days, and I feel the stress of being constantly behind and guilty for not being able to stay caught up. The old familiar, twin and equally ugly specters of low self esteem and insecurity become my constant companions at such times and I find that they walk so close as to cause me to stumble often.

Yesterday I had a young teenage girl here in labor. She was painfully shy and withdrawn. There were several things that told me that she was in some ways pretty clueless about what she was about to go through. For instance, she didn’t bring any sanitary supplies, seeming confused when I asked her about it as to why she would need them. She didn’t want no remove her underwear, and seemed completely shocked when we had to check her dilation (part of the admitting protocol here). It took me back to my own scared (try terrorized!) 14-year-old self, and the complete shock and strange sense of violation and betrayal I felt when it was all over with. We asked her if she had understood all that she learned in the childbirth classes but got little response and instead she would look away in embarrassment. My biggest concern came when I learned she had had very little to eat and no water all day (only a few bites of chicken with coca cola to drink). I suspect that perhaps this was her typical modus operandi. I have seen great looking babies come out of a few mamas who survived on cereal, twinkies and sodas, but more often I have seen labors with true failure to progress, terrible tears of the perineum from tissues in poor condition (because of the malnutrition factor), and obvious (though often not tested) hypoglycemia when the pushing stage was meant to begin which ends in maternal exhaustion and a stalled labor in the eleventh hour. I also suspect a correlation to mothers that vomit during transition to hypoglycemia because the whole thing looks so familiar to this midwife who has struggled with hypoglycemia since my adolescence.  I was told not to eat anything as soon as I knew I was in labor. I know that the basic fear many women have when approaching childbirth, and the very nature of birth, that some women do not experience a lot of natural hunger and so are not inclined to eat much if at all in early labor. This can especially become a problem when you think about the fact that early labor can last for a couple of days! The whole world seems indoctrinated to the fact that the medical model teaches that the “entire digestive system shuts down during labor” (yeah right!!! ask any other mom of 7 what she thinks about that!) and so it has become a sort of accepted “understanding” that you shouldn’t eat when in labor “just in case you need a cesarean”. The sad fact of the matter is that failure to progress and maternal exhaustion can be the very thing that leads to the need for a cesarean! Oh it is such a frustrating cycle that I have seen repeated over and over again. I had like a snap shot picture in my head of how this particular poor girl’s labor could end, although I did my best to convince her to eat throughout the day to try to change what I could see coming. Alas, she turned her head aside at every plate of food brought to her and we only managed to get a few bites of plain white rice down her. The night ended in the wee hours with us practically carrying the poor girl out and a sad quick ride to the hospital with her gentle moans haunting my “primary under supervision’s” heart all the way there. I thought the poor child would slide right out of the wheelchair when she was wheeled in and oh how I wanted to gather her up and make it all better. We were not allowed to accompany her into the hospital. Today I am sad and unsettled as I wonder about her fate. The hospital care here can be horrendous with two women and their babies to one twin bed, no sheets, no pillow and other such unimaginable treatment. Babies under observation are often put (unwashed) several to an isolette (making that particular word rather nil and void wouldn’t you say?). On days such as this, I feel the word “unfinished” to be a better adjective of my person (and in this case the work set before me) than the aforementioned “becoming”. At present the forward process feels forced with very little ground gained with each gargantuan effort. I suppose this is a normal part of the process so I will try to check my attitude and give thanks for every hard lesson learned.

On other news, there was a toddler in TLC who was born with a cleft palate and double cleft lip. He always looks at me with his great big eyes and runs towards me and then hesitantly stops and gives a little half wave as if not sure about how I will receive him. I am so pleased to say that he finally got to have his second surgery, though he is looking a bit weary worn with his little face bandaged and bruised. Still he has enough orneriness to be giving the worker caring for him a run for her money most of the time. I was glad that the first time I saw him he wasn’t looking at me, just in case any “shadow of turning” may have appeared on my face (a fact I am embarrassed to admit… why are humans so enamored with the perfection of features? I am gonna ask God about that when I get to heaven!) I always greet him with a full open face wreathed in the brightest of smiles and am rewarded with an instant relaxing of the tiny little signs of anxiety he carries around his eyes. I have heard that they are making decisions in his adoption. I pray that his new “forever family” will be blessed by this sweet sensitive boy. What a gift he is for sure!

Day 36
Fingerprints All Over My Heart
I had such sweet times today. Started the "day" at around 1:30 am with a gorgeous baby girl who arrived exactly 4 minutes after I walked in the door. Literally caught her with one glove on about halfway. But she was safe and sound which is what really matters. The placenta was just as speedy and we had mama up in the bed in no time and the little darling latched right on and contentedly stayed there for the first hour plus. Then later when it was time to do the newborn exam I got to play one of my favorite roles... instructor to some Philipina nursing/midwifery students. Got one of them right in the middle of the fray and she was thrilled to get to bathe the baby herself. Then I took a little time to have a couple of conversations with some of the people who look after me. One of them is Helen and the other Beth (ironic that those are my own mother's and mother-in-law's names!). They are kind of my "mama's" here (although age wise I am not sure there is a real correspondence!), and felt good to tell them how much I appreciated them. I had some good times sitting on the porch and laughing with the midwives about things too. Sweet times. Today I want to complete my tribute to the beautiful Beth by sharing her picture (you have already seen the stunning Helen as she is Mai Mai's mama) as requested by my daughter Crystaline. Here she is folks... lovely, lovely woman! Thanks Rachel Hodges Jamison... stole your picture!

I love this song by Winnona Judd and so dedicate it to the lovely women here that dedicate their lives to helping others. They are Deborah Gustafson, Jeri Gunderson, Sara Gunderson, Dina Castro, Florabel Correa, Lydia Oliveros, Lornie Bagro, Grace Villamor, Helen Cervantes, and Beth Beatrice. You all inspire me to the depths of my soul to be a better woman, because you all love so deeply! I am so enjoying basking in the beauty of each and every one of you! All my love my dearlings....


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lHYWYxWOCQw

 

-->

Fingerprints All Over My Heart

Day 32 (Ha! The REAL day 32… trying to keep it straight folks!)

Yesterday felt LARGE to me. I hate to say it was a “big” day because that connotes something fun and positive. I also don’t want to say it was terrible or negative. The truth is it was “in my face” larger than life in many ways. My friend Rachel caught a SGA baby (small for gestational age) and we were all a little concerned over the little guy having a hard time holding his temperature and having some kind of apneic episodes. Of course the answer for both in this setting is for the mama to hold her baby against her body. Easier said than done, because no matter how many times I try explain that in the first two hours (at least!) that babies should be skin to skin with a blanket over both of them, the mamas (and grandmas!) are always in a hurry to get the babies and and themselves dressed and laying beside each other in the bed. Makes me a little nuts since I know that the special “glue” of oxytocin is higher in the first two hours after birth than any time in a woman’s or baby’s life. In this case I insisted that they stay skin to skin because the little guy was literally starting to shiver which can be a dangerous condition for a baby of any size but especially one in the 4 lb range! The midwife got proactive too and set up a drop light right away. Still this little peanut was vigorous with only very slightly discernable retractions. Rachel and I suggested that mama or daddy hold the baby constantly for the first 2 to 4 days and then as much as possible in the next two months no matter what kind of pressure she receives from family to do otherwise, and to nurse, nurse, nurse! I suggested trying to feed him every two hours and never let him sleep past 5 hours. Poor girl had worked through her entire pregnancy and I am not sure how good her hydration and nutrition had been. Her fundal height was way small so we were worried going in. Her placenta was trashed and the cord tiny and thin. She was in tears when getting ready to leave and I knelt down in front of her and told her that it was hard to think that her baby was having problems but that the two things this baby needed the most was her love and her milk. I told her that the only thing wrong with her boy was that he was born small, and for that he would need a little extra boost. I told her how I had had a baby that size too and that it wasn’t too long before she was rosy and chubby. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, nodded and said ok and held her boy a little tighter.  They were still worried and so the family decided to transport the little man to the hospital. They checked him out and sent him home… telling her to breastfeed him a lot and to rest! Looks like I have learned a thing or two after all.

The rest of the day was the really huge part. When I got back to my apartment I found my dear young mother who is giving her baby up for adoption there, filling out paperwork of some kind while she nursed her little daughter, preparing to leave her in the care of the little children’s home. She told me she would be leaving that day. With everything in me I wanted to close myself into my room and just lay down and cry, because I didn’t know how to handle the fullness of all that pain and love. I went into the bathroom and stared in the mirror. I then realized that no matter how bad it hurt ME (like any of this is about ME!) that she shouldn’t have to go through this day alone. So I made myself go back out and I dug through my earrings, and found a pair that I loved and made myself. I gave them to her and told her I had made them and wanted her to have them “to remember”.  She accepted them so sweetly and humbly. I know it might be silly and some would say kind of pointless, but I wanted her to have something lovely to carry away in her hands! I then sat beside her and told her that I admired how strong she was and that I could see how much she loved her little one. We both began to cry and for a few minutes that was enough, indeed it was all that we could do. Then I took her hand and asked if I could pray for her and the baby. I asked God to bless their separate journeys and to watch over them both. I prayed that God would bring help and blessing to her as a mom and as a woman so she could find a way to care for her children and have a better life. I prayed that God would watch carefully over this baby girl and that he would help her and prosper her throughout her life. I laid my hand on the weeping mama’s head and the innocent little sleepy head as well. I am sure it was not eloquent, I know my voice was wobbly, my nose was red and running and I can tell you I definitely do not cry pretty. My own pride over these things almost stopped me from the whole experience. I am not sure what she thought of some of that and it doesn’t matter, the point is that she had someone sitting beside her, sharing her pain, someone to cry with, and someone to gasp out a few words of prayer. It was hard, I was scared, but I think I did ok. She said “thank you-po” in her sweet little English/Tagalag way, over and over again and clung to my hand for a while. I then left her to simply sit and look at her baby for a while. She came and told us all bye again at the birth center and we all welled up as she began walking away. My friend Rachel said she still went into the Little Children’s Home and stayed by her little daughter for about two hours before she could finally….. finally walk away down the hill. My heart is broken, so I must be able to imagine it… but still… I CAN’T imagine. Pray for her friends, pray for this new little one. There are many babies and children and the workers are relatively few. Pray for me as I keep doing this daily work.

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 34 (this is long one folks..)
One thing that many people don’t know about me is that I can feel a bit ashamed of my lack of education, my redneck heritage, and my poor white trash status that WILL follow me around despite the hundred pairs of shoes in my closet. Maybe I have that many shoes to fend off the pain I feel from those who look askance at me and my dirty car, or the mess in the garage, or the not so nice house….. whatever! Or maybe I just love shoes! They were collected over many years and most came from clearance racks and thrift stores… and wait a minute! Why the hell should I feel guilty over my shoes for crying out loud? So anyway… leave me alone about the shoes.
I can also carry a lot of pain over the caste system in America… oh, wait? You thought there wasn’t one? Wrong. Try starting to clean houses at the age of 18, and using the sensitive person you are to really love and care for the families that you serve. Try taking care of elderly ladies and being the only one they talk to for hours, days or weeks on end… and then have them dismiss you as “the Housekeeper” or “the Maid” whenever they finally receive a visitor. It is hard to carry the weight of that through a lifetime. But this job gave me a better income than if I had worked as a waitress or some other laborer position and it allowed me to be there for my kids and to pursue midwifery. There has been some true pain there, and some moments of humiliation. For me it can be a difficult part of my story and there are days when I think I will scream if I have to clean another house! Still, being an efficient hard worker is nothing to be ashamed of, nor is being from the south (actually I am damned proud of being from the south so if you don't like rednecks you can kiss my grits!). I am an intelligent woman, I have a strong work ethic and am honest to a fault! And I build deep caring relationships with everyone I work with. I can hold my head up high for the lifetime of work I have produced, and know that along the way I eased someone’s burdens.
Ahhh….. but now….
Meet my friend Beth. She has the most electrifyingly beautiful smile that goes all the way to her eyes. She is friendly, laughs a lot and is always kind and faithful in all her work. I do not know her entire story, but I know that she was sold into human trafficking as a child. She was luckier than some for her owners taught her the skill of being a very good cleaning woman, and a laundress. Beth eases my burdens. She washes my clothes for me. This makes me feel a bit ashamed because I am used to doing my own work (uh, yeah… that is to say that I am used to my washing machine doing my work). She also cleans the birth home several times a week. The floors always shine, and there is not a “dust kitty” to be found in any of the corners… they wouldn’t dare with Beth around! My clothes are always perfectly clean and stain free. I love to carry them back to my apartment and hug them to myself and inhale their fragrance. Maybe you don’t see why that is amazing? She washes them in a bucket out back! She hangs them on a line, and then she lovingly folds them for me just so. My sheets are crisp and smell like sunshine and something indefinable… perhaps it is love. I am always careful to never, ever take her presence in the birth home for granted, or to treat her like she is “less than” because she is a domestic. I am a domestic! When I watched the movie The Help, I couldn’t help but relate to the maids in the story although I am not a black woman, but I have been treated badly because of my lack of education and my redneck status. I have felt at times that there is no way I will ever fight my way out of poverty. Then I came here and learned that I am a rich woman. I am rich even if sometimes I can’t buy my kids shoes, so we get them second hand. I am rich even if I have to clip coupons to make ends meet. I am rich because I know that we have plenty of food in the cupboard and work coming in. Beth lives in a home that is over a city sewer and yet she comes to work everyday looking beautiful with her hair up in a bright clip that matches her blouse. She often has earrings on and she is lovely, clean and fresh. She lives in the poorest conditions and yet like any woman she needs to surround herself with beautiful things, and feel good about herself. I adore her and always greet her with a smile. I often give her a little tentative hug even though I am not sure she is comfortable with such western displays of affection. I am so glad I got to meet her.
Today in the birth room I was the assistant. It was a fast birth and one of the other interns was primary. The mother was young… only 25. She had gone into labor at 11:30 am but then apparently her family never showed up to bring her here so she got outside with her bags and her two little ones who were around 2 and 4. She got a trike to drive her to the base of the hill but he would take her no further. A stranger saw her distress (another woman who has also given birth here) and got another trike to get her up the hill. We got her in the door and for a few contractions it looked like we would have a sala birth. I cannot even imagine how brave this mama must be to load herself and two little ones into a public conveyance and try to get to us by herself! To the stranger who helped her: GOD BLESS YOUR BEAUTIFUL HEART! Then that stranger stayed and helped mind her little ones until after the birth. I suppose you are wondering why this simple sweet little birth story has appeared here at the end of my story about Beth. Well this birth is what inspired me to tell Beth’s story as well as this mama’s story… or at least what I suspect her story may be. You see, after the birth I was helping to clean some blood and vernix off of this mama’s hands… Oh God! Her HANDS! I literally stopped and looked at her chart again. She really was 25. Her hands looked and felt like an ancient old woman’s. This means that this young, young mama had worked somewhere, probably as a domestic for most of her teenage years and adult life for sure. I went back to cleaning her hands and I looked at my hands against the backdrop of hers. I saw a tear fall onto the cotton ball soaked with alcohol that I was using to remove the blood. My hands, as worn and calloused as they are, still looked better than hers and I am almost twice her age. I stared at the tear as it soaked into the cotton and all I could think of was the woman in the bible who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears. Another tear fell and splashed onto the back of her hand. She looked at her hand and then up at me with questioning eyes. She saw my tears. I smiled at her as brightly as I could and then I carefully turned the cotton ball around so the tear soaked side was against her hand and gently finished cleaning her dear, tired, scarred hands and silently said a little prayer of blessing over her. Oh Lord, please help me remember that no matter how tired I am, there’s someone more tired. No matter how hard I work, someone has worked even harder, and no matter how badly I have been hurt there are those in the world whose suffering I cannot even imagine! Everyone has a struggle, everyone has a story, and behind every smiling face there is most likely some kind of pain. I will remember that as I go through my days. I can count my blessings for they are many. I have a good, good life and am very rich up aside the rest of the world. I hope I never forget that and can always use these lessons to keep my own journey in perspective. Bitterness is an ugly state of existence, so I choose to be grateful instead… and I am! I AM! I am thankful for each person God gives me the opportunity to love… *sigh* …. more fingerprints on my heart!

Feb 3, 2013

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 32
To my Friends, Family and the Sisters of My Heart,
In an effort to keep things real, to keep things balanced I am going to share some of my frustrations, my exhaustions, my downright bitchiness that has come to the surface after days of very little sleep. I do so enjoy writing about the really lovely part of midwifery but I want everyone to know (especially aspiring midwives and doulas) that it is not all "goodness and light". The profession inherently produces a lot of deep frustrations and trials and being a student is loaded with hours of logging, paperwork and study. As I write this I want to say that I slept for many hours yesterday and then went to bed at midnight and slept soundly until around 9:45 am. I shed a lot of tension relieving tears as well. It was needed.
We have three interns here and have so many wants and needs between us. In many respects we are still strangers, but they are my sisters and I already love them, and I am sure I will forever. In my heart of hearts, what I envision when women come together is to step away from the Patriarchal model of competition, and embrace a model based on feminine collaboration instead. I find that the old medical model/patriarchal model ideas will creep back in despite my best efforts to change my mindset but at this point aren’t we all a product of that old system? America had made women very competitive and I hate it! I find myself comparing silly little things like “I got less sleep than you” or “You didn’t chart that exactly right” (of course according to my own understanding or opinion of how it should have been charted). Or seeing someone do anything a little different than I and feel a tightening inside my gut of frustration and have to bite my tongue not to add my two cents worth. I do not like this. One of my deepest convictions is that every man and woman deserves autonomy. Being disrespectful of this is not the person I want to be. This is not the midwife I am aiming to become. I am not responsible for anyone’s understanding of a subject and how they choose to manifest that understanding. In fact I am not responsible for anyone’s actions or reactions in any setting or context. I am only responsible for my own actions and reactions and to fulfill my given responsibilities in each particular setting. My entire life I have carried so much guilt for others actions, feelings, reactions, pain, poor decisions, and even the downright evil they perpetrate on others. That all goes back to the fact that I do feel responsible for others…. and I realize that when I say that it comes down to the word FEEL. I am so empathetic… too empathetic. I feel what others are feeling way too clearly for comfort. And so I superimpose myself into a context that is not my responsibility to carry. I am learning that this is not sustainable. That is part of the reason for so many of the really crazy choices and mistakes I have made over the last two years. I wonder if I somehow got "stuck" emotionally because of my abuse beginning in early childhood and then my pregnancy at 14. I used to think it forced me to mature faster than most girls my age, and throughout my life I have felt out of step with many of my peers no matter the setting or age group. I have felt an ancient weariness in my spirit at times, but lately I have felt a deep need to go out and express the teenage girl that is still walking around inside me. Here at Shiphrah I have been charmed by the sweet purity of the midwives spirits, and their lovely calm attitudes inside the birth rooms. It is also my own simplistic way, but I got caught up in a kind of militant “professionalism” in the states and so felt I needed to suppress those kinds of actions when dealing with mamas and babies. Now I find I can simply be me… I can hum and sing to the babies, or the mamas for that matter. I can relax and let the mamas do the work that no one can do for them. I do know it hurts (believe me I KNOW), but I also know that this is their exclusive right to pass through this journey and I am only there as a kind of helper or guide. It is not for me to take this away, it is their rite of passage.
Over the last few days of everyone being so tired because of so many births I have felt cut off in a few conversations when I was trying to say my part. I believe I can be very oversensitive to that kind of thing because of my years of abuse and the silence that I lived in out of guilt and a need to protect my mother and others from the ugliness of it all. I need to learn to take responsibility for my part only, and part of that responsibility is to use my voice to say my part. Indeed in each collaboration of effort we all need to have a voice or it is not a “collaboration” at all. Instead my reaction was to withdraw into sullen bitchiness. That is also not the person I want to be. I need friendship, laughter and fun. I need brightness and cheerfulness. I need soul stirring beauty, words, music and art. Most of all I need to look into the faces of laboring women and help them as they do the work of a lifetime…. I need to reach out and receive life into my hands. I need to catch the joy that issues forth out of their bodies! That is the person I aspire to be. I am Joycatcher. Such an unbelievable honor!

Feb 2, 2013
Saw this quote today and it made my heart beat a bit steadier, and the tensions (and the self recriminations that WILL creep in despite my best attempts to keep them at bay...) that are inside my body at this moment ease a bit in understanding... acceptance...

"I know vulnerability is kind of the core of shame, fear, and our struggle for worthiness, but it also appears to be the birthplace of joy, creativity, belonging, and love... To let ourselves be seen, deeply seen, vulnerably seen. To love with our whole hearts, even though there's no guarantee. To practice gratitude and joy in those moments of terror, to be this vulnerable means that we're alive." -Brene Brown

Help me Oh Lord as I do this thing called "Putting one foot in front of the other", forgive me for the deep impatience and irritability that my level of exhaustion has produced, but at the same time let that occurrence also work in me it's perfect work.....

Feb 3, 2013
Jewel, Jennifer everyone else who keeps encouraging me along the lines of a book or a blog, that actually scares the hell out of me,,, I write the same way I sing, the same way I dance, the same way I bang away at the piano... it is really only for me and a way of expressing creativity and releasing tensions... I am afraid of what it will become if it is suddenly another "responsibility", but my heart is listening and I am considering how to "save" it all. Currently I am creating it as a document and am working on getting my blog up and running again. If you want to read a few of my previous writings here is my blog url: http://margiethemakingofamidwife.blogspot.com/

Hopefully today I will get the posts from the 31 days copied and pasted over there for posterity's sake... haha! I guess I understand, when I first started on this journey 16 years ago there were very few writings of midwives to be found... and there still very few relatively speaking.

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 31
I want to say that as an entry level midwife (to be) I truly appreciate all the midwives who have forged the way in the last two or three decades. At this moment I can say that doubly for the Wise Women and Families who have made Shiphrah Birthing Home what it is. When Shiphrah first began it was literally done out of Jeri’s home, and they simply began to help women with their births. They have faithfully and gently served women, empowering them in their choices and offering a safe alternative to hospital births.
Early this morning I was sitting at the feet of a lovely woman as the magical sight of her bag of waters ballooned forth. It was surreal and appeared as mystical as a crystal ball or a snow globe. Contraction after contraction I patiently watched as she allowed her baby to descended slowly, slowly and gently often seeking out and holding my gaze. We all watched with breathless amazement as the dark presence of her baby’s curls slowly slid into view inside the caul. When the head was fully out the bag broke gently and the baby’s head slowly turned, as she was ready to make her final journey into this world. She’s out! My heart skips a beat at the loveliness of the birth. The baby is exquisitely perfect in every way! This birth felt so good, because the father was there, an aunt was there and the couples’ three-year-old daughter was there and happily playing in the room until about a half hour before the birth. Afterwards I was called to help in the next room (another baby) and I mentioned that I wanted the baby skin to skin to bond. I was pleasantly surprised to see the aunt expertly get the baby in place on the mother and nursing right away. Often there is resistance in this culture to the mother or baby being undressed because they do not want either to get cold, but this family seemed well versed in this practice. I mentioned it afterwards and found out that I had literally been sitting at the feet of a legacy! The girl in front of me had been born at Jeri’s house herself! In their family both of the aunt’s children had been born into Shiphrah’s faithful care, the first at Beverly (Jeri’s house) 20 years ago and the next here at the birthing home 12 years ago. The new mama (one of a family of 7) also had three other siblings that had been born within the sanctuary of these walls through the years. Then the crowning penticle of the story for me: The little one sleeping on the bed so soundly as her mother pushed her new little sister into the world had been born exactly in the same place in the room three years before. The whole story gave me a thrill and I felt the weight of the beauty of the big picture fall across me. Soon the typical routine ensued without any coaching for they were all veterans of the system: Everyone quickly helped clean away the wet newspapers, and dispose of the placenta; the father was in the bathroom getting the mop ready and was soon industriously mopping the floor (I love this tradition and it seems so fitting, and best of all the daddy’s always seem to love to do it and are quite offended if anyone takes this very important job from them. When all is in order the father rushes out to retrieve food for the mama and then almost always comes in and feeds her bite by bite like a queen. When the newborn exam is done the daddy is obviously excited and perhaps a shade nervous as I check out his new little girl. He has obviously bonded with her completely and hovers over me until his wife tells him to sit down with a smile at me at his nervousness. After the baby bath the father carries the tub away for us and empties it. He also carefully helps the mother of his children to the bathroom and ministers to her every need there. My heart is full of Mama love… baby love… couple love and pure and complete love of BIRTH! I am in love with my teachers and wait expectantly for each new lesson they wish to lead me in. Their teachings are thorough and they treat me with unfailing kindness. My heart is full of Shiphrah Love! Now at last I will sleep…..

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Feb 1
Day 30

Well we had a night! Had 6 ladies in last night and this morning and 3 births (which means that each intern got to catch one). Then we had two transports, and one in very early labor that we sent on home. It made for a lot of adrenalin and some very satisfying midwife moments. One was a mama giving birth to her 8th baby who walked in the door pushing. Then there was my transport of a young woman who's baby was stressed after her waters broke and the baby's heart rate was too high. That was sad as they had all their sweet little supplies arranged so lovingly and seemed more prepared than most. Still haven't heard the outcome on that one. Then we were actually able to go home and sleep for a few hours in our own beds before getting called with the message "She Is TEN cm and PUSHING! Come now!" This made for some rather comical hi jinks of us running out the door with clothes thrown on (no bras or any other such niceties! LOL) and both of us kind of skidding into place to help a very young mother give birth to her daughter. This labor had only been going on for an hour or so when they arrived and the couple realized that the baby was coming fast and rushed to the birth center without their bag or supplies (on the back of a motorcycle!!!!) Then the dad dropped her off and rushed back home and made it back in the room right before his tiny daughter was born into my friend's waiting hands. Fantastic! Then I actually got to sleep in my own bed AGAIN which after 5 nights of sleeping in odd places was so so wonderful! I slept in until after 10 (was up for much of the night so I am not actually sure if that qualifies as 'sleeping in') and then arrived at the Birthing home to find that I had a multip in labor. There were students here from another college (Filapinas) and I had the huge honor of getting to be their teacher through my birth. It was amazing all the stuff I had in my head that just fell off my tongue as I midwifed the sweet mama through her delivery. All that learning is really up there in my head which is gratifying! Had a abnormal finding on the newborn exam (murmur or valve issue of some sort) which I picked up on and so referred that mama to a baby doc. The end of the day brought a trip to the mall with my roommate who is becoming a good friend. We had pizza, then ice cream and did our shopping for a few necessities. After arriving home I discovered I had dropped my phone on the trike ride and figured it was gone. But after a bit we received a text from the trike driver and in a while the dear couple who owns the trike brought me back my phone! I have said it before and will say it again: What wonderful people there are in this country! It is a land of service and hospitality given from some very pure hearted people! What pure pleasure! It IS more fun in the Philippines! So tonight I am sending out a little love to my Filipino friends! ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Thursday

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 29
I have had many busy days with an average of 2 to 4 hours of sleep in each 24 period, only four hours worth of those “sleep snatches” were in my own bed. The rest of the time I may find myself on a (wicker) sofa, loveseat, mattress on the floor or random empty birth bed or prenatal check up room that I can find. My last few days have been a rich tapestry of experiences and I am at 22 catches with another young mama in labor now. I have seen what 3 and 4 hours of pushing can do, and have now had the experience of being part of my first newborn resuscitation. All is well but my heart is definitely doing some processing and I have had a couple of near meltdowns and some deep questioning of my skill level. In the end so much of what I did in the moment came from inside my heart and intuition rather than any of my actual training. I mean I am sure that all the training and classes and certification were working there along with my intuition but there was no real cognitive definitive thought process at work that I was aware of. Rather I would have moments of trying to figure out exactly what the others in the team were doing and what my part would be in the next moment. During the newborn resuscitation…I was thinking: Heart rate? Chest movement? Muscle tone? Skin color? These were where my auto pilot brain/intuition went, along with repositioning of the infant, checking the mask for proper fit, and counting out steps as we go along. In the end I think I wasn’t quite sure if this baby “started” as a result of our ministrations or despite them. All I knew was we all breathed out a deeply felt ‘Thank You God” when the newcomer first twitched, then moved, then gasped, then cried! Much retractions, grunting stridor and finally a full on suctioning with the de lee. After baby is nice and pink and totally breathing on his own and in mamas arms gazing into her eyes the questioning/recriminations begin. Near meltdown ensues but I have two lovely young women on either side of me with hands on my back and telling me “You did fine Margie, you did a good job!” After shedding a few surreptitious tears I am back “in my body” and doing my part again. That was not the time or place to make this story about me, it was that mother’s and that baby’s journey…. oh and a new midwife’s beginning story as well as my friend began her own journey as Primary for the first time. All in all… I would say we all did a good job, though maybe each step was not “textbook” perfect we all had something vitally important to bring to the table. My body is tired, my mind is electrified and my heart is healing from so many, many things.

January 27

There is a midwife's moon shining down on us......

 

January 31

Fingerprints All Over My Heart.
Day 27
Still in the midst of the story of the new baby destined for the Little Children’s Home. Mama and baby are still together and after having watched them bond with one another (and with me) the story feels all the more difficult and sad as the mother will probably surrender custody over to the orphanage. Still I find solace in so many little parts of the story. I stayed up for many hours on night two when baby was screaming because the milk hadn’t come in (yes the mother is breastfeeding her little one) and the mama was post op after a ligation. I held baby, offered my pinkie and sang snatches of lullabies and dozed. In the days to follow I often wander over to talk to the mama and offer some unconditional caring, and see the dear baby girl and speak to her and love on her. I am often rewarded by a sweet newborn dimply smile that melts my heart. I tell her I will love her forever (and I will). The grandmother came in yesterday and hugged me and told me thank you for caring for her daughter and granddaughter. The story is sad, but it is a chance for this little one to perhaps have a better life and for that I am blessed by this mama. So I offer up this song as a tribute to this mother and this baby.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4F1oY6xZcc

January 26

I am standing on my feet (or squatting in front of a birth stool... who knew I could be so flexible), and I am using my voice! Look out world....

-B

Like · · Promote · Share

 

And from one of my very good friends... this little bit of encouragement showed up on FB: after the post about the mama giving up her baby....

 

January 26

Im not sure what to say, so lemme say this. I believe in God. I believe in The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit. I believe in Fate, I believe in Destiny and I Do believe in Love.
I believe that you meet people for a reason and that all those reasons have to do with destiny, fate, love and God. I do not ponder the How, but rather the Why.
With that being said let me introduce to you Margie Kline. She is an amazing woman and I'm proud to call her a friend. She has been in the Philippines for 25 days now catching babies so she can fulfill her dream of becoming a mid-wife. (How Eff'n cool is that?) It hasn't come without pain and sacrifice tho. But I dont think making your dream come true is supposed to be easy.
There are few people who I have crossed paths with in my lifetime whome I truly admire. Margie Kline is one of them. I could list all the reasons why. But rather then that, I am going to share with you her post for the day. You read it and you will know why she's an amazing woman. Feel free to add her as a friend too...I'm sure she wont mind!! Lmao.

And too Margie; YOU GO GIRL. Making that dream a reality....All I got is ♥ and admiration for You Baby.  

 

January 27

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 25 part II
Snapshots:
A labor that keeps stalling... I think this mama is trying to hold on to her little one as long as possible.
Me having moments where I randomly need to cry... telling myself things in the moment that are so ironic like "Because of who your mother was, you can do this!" and in the next moment 'Despite who your mother was you can do this!" And then I have the identical conversation with myself about my grandmother, and my great grandmother. I am surprised at the depth of bewilderment and anger that I feel and finally it comes "Because of who YOU are you can do this!" And the inevitable "Despite who you ARE, you CAN do this!" Ah...all my past selves have met my present ever changing self and after the initial confrontation... there is peace... and a different kind of knowing confidence!
Lots of heart wrenching crying, and the saddest eyes I have ever seen. Mama looking into my eyes with the deepest kind of pain... the kind that has nothing to do with labor~ I look back at her as deep into her soul as she will let me and say "It's ok my love, we are here, you can do this..."
Right before birth... baby's heart tones dropping, we are all gripped by dire possibilities, someone slips out to grab an ambu bag, someone glances at the oxygen to ensure all is in readiness, the midwife clears away some of the meconium from the top of the baby's crowning head. I murmur softly to mother and baby that we are here, we are ready and that it is finally time.
Birth..... somersault baby through the cord wrapped around her neck, quick untangle as I lift baby onto mama's tummy, hands come from somewhere/everywhere to wipe away the meconium, the blood, the amniotic fluid... OH! two of the hands are my own I realize with a mild spark of surprise.. I feel my feet on the ground... I feel my sits bones on my stool, I feel myself come back into my body and I allow my body, my mind, my spirit, my heart and my intuition to begin working together again as a whole....

Later....the baby looks into my eyes and there was so much sweet innocence and trust there my heart melted... one little hand curls tightly around my finger!

Later again, the mother is eating and the baby is handed to me, and she snuggles down against me so cuddly and warm and after gazing into my eyes for a while as if in recognition and begins rooting around (good luck there sweetheart... this milk factory is shut down). I speak softly to her, I sing to her, I move the blanket aside to let her hear my heart and feel my warmth through my shirt. I tell her how very glad that I got to be here in the Philippines at the right time so I could meet her and that I love her and always will! She finally gives a little sigh and falls asleep against me. Such pure sweetness!!! What amazing gifts the universe brings in the hardest of times...
Now mama and baby are tucked together in bed for what may be their only night together and I am standing sentinel. I can give them this... a little time of safety and love that is just for the two of them. I have the love of a mother for them both and the heart of a lioness as I stand my postpartum watch! What a day..... license or no license... I AM a midwife this day. 

January 26

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 26
Sometimes it hurts when people touch the more sensitive parts of you very deeply. Today I am labor sitting. This is a painful day for me for this mother has made the difficult decision to surrender her baby to TLC. I can tell it is painful for her on so many levels, but between her deep shyness (and shame?) there is no way to help her process other than to simply be as loving as possible with my ministrations, and to murmur sweet little non-sensical things to her, or deliver little snatches of song as they come to me. There is nothing I can really do here but love. So I will love her for her hard decision; I will love her for her sacrifice; I will love her for carrying this baby to term, taking her vitamins, and drinking her water; I will love her for the work her body is doing so faithfully. I will not blame her for her life circumstances, both the ones in her control and the ones out of her control. I will love her unborn baby each time I listen to her little heartbeat; each time I feel her mama’s belly to see what position she has chosen. When I touch her for the first time I will tell her that she is welcomed and loved by many and that everything will be all right. I will do my best to be tender and gentle and kind. Today is Sunday and I was not able to go to a church service, so in my heart I will go to “midwife church”. I will sit at the altar of birth, and thank the creator for this little life that was certainly meant to be! I will sit at the altar of birth and thank this little wee woman’s mother, grandmother and all the former generations of women who led to this small fulfillment of femininity. I will sit at the altar of birth and thank my own mother, my grandmother and my amazing tiny Cherokee great grandmother that birthed her babies with Cherokee midwives. I will sit at the altar of birth and fulfill my ministry of shepherding a new soul earthside and give thanks my creator that he has chosen ME to do this work, even on hard days like this. I will sit and be quiet and wait… for the grace that comes to midwives… for the strength that comes to midwives… for the wisdom that comes to midwives … to know (with that deep, deep knowing) what to do in each moment, what to say in each moment, and how to be the ‘me’ I am meant to be in each moment (I am still *becoming*). Think of me today dear family and friends… send me some love and good thoughts and say a prayer … I love and miss you all.

January 21

It is true... I so find myself places I never expected to be... it is good though... so very good, though I am afraid at times... But not too afraid to keep going!

 

"The woman who follows the crowd will usually go no further than the crowd.

The woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one has ever been before."

~Albert Einstein

January 21

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 19
Today was quiet. I slept in a little and then came over and did the newborn check and bath on this little beauty (stealing your pic Rachel because it is so much better than mine!) before sending her smiling mother home to introduce her newest little princess to the rest of her brood. Took a walk and took some pictures. Had various others come through and now we have a mama in labor and away this new little person's arrival earthside. This couple is adorable and he is attentively attending his love through each contraction... they are both so lovely to behold together... her little small sounds of distress and the love in his eyes! Mmmm..... good stuff for sure!

 

January 22

Fingerprints All Over My Heart
Day 20
What a wonderful day! Met a newcomer to the planet this morning in the wee hours. Poor little brave mama, labored long but the fruit of that labor was sweet! Such a gorgeous couple, he so loving and attentive and she looking at him with large needy eyes and drawing from his strength. Then the two of them so in love with their precious new daughter. The morning brought another labor and prenatal appointments stacking up, but everyone was seen to, and then after a quick lunch a bouncing baby boy around 8 lbs came and graced us with his beauty! This was a tough labor as well for a small mama. Mama is resting and baby is checked out, bathed and tucked in safely beside her. They both look so contented. Afternoon brought a string of postpartums and I got to get reacquainted with some of the babies I met briefly 3 days ago as they began their journeys. Now we are off to have dinner together at Jeri's house. What a thoroughly satisfying day for by any midwife's standards! Loving this place! Loving my calling! But OH! I am missing my family! Only for a little while my loves....

 

January 25

Day 23
Fingerprints All Over My Heart
I haven't posted for a couple of days. Needed a break. I have been working on paperwork and allowing God to work some things out in my heart and mind as well. Wonderful night/day of learning last evening and this morning, though I let myself get too tired. Sometimes even that is good and you can get past all the little walls that you build up inside that can prevent growth. We had a young mama in last night with malpresentation (asynclitic and posterior). She also had a rough time during transition and at one point her mother was insisting we transport her to the hospital because she was experiencing some real weakness almost to the point of fainting. One of the wonderful midwives called the driver (sorry Darren! We got you out of bed for nothing...) and at the same time fed the mama some brown sugar and spoke softly to her in the most beautiful musical voice telling her that her baby was almost here. This gave this tired young mama a second wind and soon she was pushing. It went on for almost two hours because of the malpresentation and we could literally see the baby turning at the perineum. On the technical side I learned that the pressure of strong contractions can make a caput feel like no caput at all, I also learned that young healthy mamas' perineums can be a cinch to suture. I tried hard to keep her from tearing but to no avail. Oh well... it happens. Sweet little baby who was literally cooing to me not long after birth and looking so deeply into my eyes I almost broke down in tear. After a bit of anxiety over the mama's hard birth, fearing we were looking at a possible shoulder dystocia (it wasn't) and just a combination of exhaustion and homesickness. How a tiny little baby less than an hour old could bring such a level of healing to me in just a few beats of our hearts and a few seconds of held gazes is a mystery to me, but I will carry those glances with me forever. God's spirit was in the room with me in those moments and I had so much to thank him for as I laid my head down to sleep at long last. I am thankful for dear midwives with true teachers' hearts and good friends in the form of two beautiful and smart young women both called Rachel that were with me every step of the way supporting and helping in so many little ways. Most of all I am so thankful to be called to be one of the many "gatekeepers" of safety as women choose their birthplace and attendant and give birth in the way that is right for them. It is such an amazing honor to be called by the creator to do this very special work!