Here I sit...
in Seattle, almost through this last onsite of first year, cozy in my classmates basement. I have a glass of wine, endless hours of silence waiting to be filled with the sound of typing, or on demand ABC or more silence of an early bedtime. I feel guilty that Husband is holding the fort at home, in what I know to be the antithesis of silence - the racket of an almost 5 y/o and a 2y/o hopped up on a dinner of McDonalds (gasp) snagged on the way home from a full day of meetings in Seattle today.
Today we listened intently as a panel of midwives in the community held forth on the impact of midwifery on the family of the midwife. Especially the family of the student midwife. They are the spouse and partners who keep the bed warm, juggle the kidlets out the door in the morning when their midwife mama isn't home, shuttles them to daycare or school or to whichever kind friend has offered to mind the darlings (being deeply sarcastic here folks) at a pinch, before they head off to a full day of work themselves. The very important work which funds this adventure of mine and keeps both a roof over our heads and food in our bellies - oh and the maintenance payments on the ever growing student loans...
Licenced midwives make a pitiful living. Or perhaps not. Depends on who you talk to. Some say they do ok. Others eek out a living and 10years into practice still look forward to a time when they can honestly say that they are contributing meaningfully to the families financial stability. "It's all about keeping your overhead SUPER low." I'm grateful to Husband who works hard to make a decent living for us while I commit myself ever deeper to this calling of uncertain financial rewards and the certainty of an absolutely uncertain schedule. It upsets me that he is troubled and anxious about this. I will work hard though, in every way I can to make my midwifery practice (however modestly) profitable and sustainable.
One midwife told how she was sad as she caught a slippery babe the other day at the same time as her 6y/o daughter graduated from Kindy. The sacrifice seemed so poignant to me. As much as when another instructor noted that you will at some point miss your own kids (or husbands) birthday because you are celebrating someone else's child's birthday.
I signed on for this life though, because I have come to realize that doubt I could do anything else. I could work another job. But nothing would fill my heart with love and adrenaline and wonder the way that this does. It would be like quitting breathing. A big piece of me would shrivel up and die. Dramatic perhaps? Yeah. But that's me sometimes. And that's how big this feels.
Husband, if you're reading (and hell, for the benefit of everyone else) I love you. I married (and had two beautiful babies with) the best bloke on the planet.
Today we listened intently as a panel of midwives in the community held forth on the impact of midwifery on the family of the midwife. Especially the family of the student midwife. They are the spouse and partners who keep the bed warm, juggle the kidlets out the door in the morning when their midwife mama isn't home, shuttles them to daycare or school or to whichever kind friend has offered to mind the darlings (being deeply sarcastic here folks) at a pinch, before they head off to a full day of work themselves. The very important work which funds this adventure of mine and keeps both a roof over our heads and food in our bellies - oh and the maintenance payments on the ever growing student loans...
Licenced midwives make a pitiful living. Or perhaps not. Depends on who you talk to. Some say they do ok. Others eek out a living and 10years into practice still look forward to a time when they can honestly say that they are contributing meaningfully to the families financial stability. "It's all about keeping your overhead SUPER low." I'm grateful to Husband who works hard to make a decent living for us while I commit myself ever deeper to this calling of uncertain financial rewards and the certainty of an absolutely uncertain schedule. It upsets me that he is troubled and anxious about this. I will work hard though, in every way I can to make my midwifery practice (however modestly) profitable and sustainable.
One midwife told how she was sad as she caught a slippery babe the other day at the same time as her 6y/o daughter graduated from Kindy. The sacrifice seemed so poignant to me. As much as when another instructor noted that you will at some point miss your own kids (or husbands) birthday because you are celebrating someone else's child's birthday.
I signed on for this life though, because I have come to realize that doubt I could do anything else. I could work another job. But nothing would fill my heart with love and adrenaline and wonder the way that this does. It would be like quitting breathing. A big piece of me would shrivel up and die. Dramatic perhaps? Yeah. But that's me sometimes. And that's how big this feels.
Husband, if you're reading (and hell, for the benefit of everyone else) I love you. I married (and had two beautiful babies with) the best bloke on the planet.
posted by Louisa at 7:26 PM
2 Comments:
This has to be one of the hardest parts for me - I hear all the time about how midwives have horrible family lives because of the demands of the calling.
Even as a doula, there are consequences to being "on call". I asked my husband recently what he expected of me if someone went into labor during our child's 2nd birthday party. His response (God bless him)? "I grew up with a father who was on call. We all understood and we all made way for it. She will, too." His absolute permission makes it possible for me to give of myself that way. Still...no one WANTS to miss those moments.
My son was born on one of my midwife's children's birthdays. She has seven kids, so I'm sure it has happened to her more than once! It makes me wonder if I should wait to get active in midwifery until my own kids are older - but that could mean waiting for many more years.
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