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!