Set the scene: a young woman lies exhausted, propped up on the bed, belly swollen, legs being held back on one side by her midwife who murmurs thoughts of focusing on the connection with her baby and on the other by her distraught and equally exhausted husband.
Enter obstetrics consult for fetal distress. Yes, you guessed it, a young resident who is about as distraught and exhausted as the poor husband after countess hours running around slightly spastically doing c-sections, and pulling out babies.
"Hi, my name's Sheona, I'm one of the obstetrics residents, and I'm going to rip open your vagina with these large metal salad tongs to get your baby out since its heart rate is lower than yours."
Don't worry, there is in fact an obstetrician around most of the time for the forceps salad tong special. As we were just finishing sewing up her sphincter a nurse sticks her head in the door. Do you mind standing by for delivery in room 10, the family doc is just on their way.
So I quickly jaunt in to 'stand by', only to be thrust some gloves as the head came out, amniotic sac and all. But the REAL kicker, the highlight of my evening, was the: Sheona, delivery in the parking lot NOW! It was my first ever parking lot baby! Now I just need an elevator one to complete the set.
I find myself running on fear, euphoria, and dread. Its a strange mix, giddy one minute and nauseas the next. Somehow its not quite what I imagined. My pager filled up twice with the amount of pages I had. Scarcely seeing a woman long enough to get their story before having to rush to the next thing. Gone in the smoke from my surgical cautery were my dreams of connecting with people, hearing their stories, and sharing the intensity of the birth experience. Instead its about survival and procedures. Learning how to operate, finding the right planes of tissue, cutting at the perfect angle, sliding on forceps smoothly.
As daylight approached I had to sit down and go through the list in my head. I didn't even know how many babies I had delivered. The tally last night: 4 C-sections, 2 forceps, 3 normal deliveries, and yes, the parking lot baby. And then I had to go round on all of them.
The breeze was fresh as I peddled home this morning,. Lovely, soul-resurrecting sunshine, blue sky with the mountains calling me to go tromping. Yeah, they didn't call loud enough. The deliciousness of my bed called louder. And I dreamed that I was a midwife, able to recall all of my patients and make home visits, dreamily catching babies as mother's calmly had water births with a massage therapist standing by as needed.
My psychosis and delusions continue...
