I’m really disappointed with myself today. I’ve had to hold myself together all day in front of clients. Tough is not a strong enough word to describe it. Let’s begin. Luckily, I have already told you about Jennifer in an earlier entry. I’ll elaborate on that story. Having been with that family, I feel like I had a good feeling about them. The dad never gave me that creepy feeling. I never felt threatened or uncomfortable around him. He was always cordial and polite. He just kept to himself. Not unlike any other man who would come home from work (a minimal wage job probably doing some menial job in a hot kitchen across town to which he took a bus to get to). So, when he came home, I felt it was normal and healthy for him to have a snack or meal and go have a smoke. It’s what we would all do, right? While Jennifer did yearn for his involvement, I have seen many dads from all socioeconomic status that have had the same reaction. Nothing different, nothing to be concerned with. After all, your wife is 9 months pregnant and what do you know about that besides her midwife (student) is here, so I can clock out or at least no one needs my full attention immediately. I never saw him do anything that would indicate he would harm me or his family. Sure, I saw them argue, but he would walk away. He wouldn’t even engage in arguments more than he had to. Again, normal human behavior and honestly, I was glad he was walking away rather than engage in a battle. Now did he do that every time—I don’t know, but I do know that I was not seeing any signs of it and I was in his house at odd times in odd circumstances.
Why didn’t I answer the phone? WHY!!!! Why is this a lesson I am having to learn? Really. OMG. This mother, this family trusted me. I failed them. She trusted me enough to call me at 12:30 at night and leave a message asking me to call her back. And I didn’t. I got into midwifery for the connection. The connection to families. To emotion. To life. The raw. The uneasy. The real. The hard and the good and the awesome amazing wonderful gift that is birth. I had a connection with this family. I let them down. Feel like crawling under a rock or a tire right now. Just amazed at my selfishness and choice. This isn’t a profession— this is the becoming of a thread in the lives of families. It isn’t a nine to five job!!! It isn’t something you can shelf until tomorrow. I’m not beating myself up. It is the essence of what I want. What I chose. What this family chose—they allowed me into their lives. Trusted me enough to call me in the middle of the night and I wasn’t there for them. I am in the business of building relationships, foundations, families. I have been given the ability, the chance, the opportunity to be here in this place of privilege and honor and trust and grace. What was I thinking? Midwives always answer their phones. Holy crap. They called me at 12:30 at night and I didn’t answer.
Now I know I am idealistic. Sometimes overly idealistic. But seeing this ex-con covered with prison tats, exuding identity crises and insecurity, witness the birth of his son, whom he names after himself, really got my attention. He was a great dad to Jennifer’s first baby (from another daddy of another race) and he instantly became enamored with this baby. He was in there trying to help her with breastfeeding. He took over feedings. He paid attention to instructions. He was in all my accounts a great dad. Now, did he know what he was doing? Was his dad a good role model? Did prison teach him any parenting skills, coping skills? Life skills? Who knows? Maybe I should have asked. Someone should have asked. Jennifer was by all accounts, bipolar, depressed, add, but she tried to be a responsible adult considering she had one foot out the door and into the street. She made all her appointments. Maybe 14 prenatals, which in my book is fabulous. She was always early to her appointment which she had to take a bus too and she followed most of the instructions. She was on food stamps. She even had a job at 7-eleven for a few years. She could be a functioning part of society. I cared about her. And I didn’t answer the phone. OMG.
We saw Jennifer for her 7 week visit. While she was getting her pap smear, I held the baby who was sleeping the entire time. He looked good, healthy. She was formula feeding him, but that was ok. She needed to get back on some of her medications. He needed to grow. All worked well. I had mentioned to her that I had seen the dad several times around town pushing the double stroller. So, if he was some loser deadbeat—would he have even hung around? NO. She was excited that she was finally on the list for the transitional home in town with potential for a brighter outlook on life. We said good bye only to see her moments later when I chased her down the street because she left the tea set on the counter that she wanted to bring to her daughter. It was a beautiful day.
I didn’t know but Jennifer had left the kids with the dad that evening as she was spending the night away. He apparently was getting the kids ready for bed and began bathing his 2 month old in the sink, but didn’t realize he turned the hot water on more than the cold. The 3 year old child needed his attention, so by the time he saw what happened the baby was scalded on 50% of his body with 2 and 3rd degree burns. He wasn’t able to judge the amount of burns to the baby and thought he was alright. Trying to rectify the situation, as any good parent would do, he cooled his son off, put cool compresses and thought all was well. Who knows, maybe he was scared—he had been to jail before—what would people think if they saw this? Jennifer returned home the next day in the afternoon. She called me that night at midnight and I didn’t answer. She left a message stating that she needed my opinion and that she needed me to call her right away. Did I mention that she trusted me enough to call me at midnight? I rolled over. I rolled over. So, what I am thinking right now, is how the hell can I justify taking care of anyone or anything? I feel so unworthy. Jennifer called me the next morning and woke me up. She actually trusted me enough to call me BACK!!! The next day!!! Now I truly didn’t see the emergent situation unfolding before me—WHY NOT???? What kind of midwife does not see how a mother who is technically no longer in your care—calls twice within 8 hours??? It must be important!!! UGH. If I could kick myself right now. She asked if I felt like the baby was sick when I saw him the other day. I replied no. She said he has a fever and how she could remedy this. I asked what she tried. She explained that his breathing was not right either. I said he may have a virus or something else, but if he isn’t breathing right, to trust herself and go to the ER. I text her Friday night and ask if he is ok. Someone replies that he is in hospital with no details given. Coincidentally, we are being audited by the state at this time, and her chart was one we were auditing. I couldn’t find a form of hers we needed, so I was going to stop by and have her fill out another one, but I couldn’t reach her.
My Journey as a Licensed Midwife in Louisiana 