A month on: Life on the maternity ward

So I started work at the beginning of November, we are now in December. I have been a member of the substantive staff now for a little over a month. I have had lots of study days to attend, and have been non supernumerary for about two weeks now. It's tough though, really tough. The transition from student to midwife is unlike anything I have ever experienced. As a student, you are with a midwife all the time. Yes you may on occasion split the work load between you but you are always overseen by a qualified midwife. Suddenly, two weeks ago I went from preceptee to midwife. To say it was a shock to the system was an understatement. Trying to remember when medications are due, baby observations that need doing, mummy observations, getting water or food, contacting doctors, arranging baby checks, discharge talks and paperwork, documenting what you have done for that woman and her baby whilst in your care, breastfeeding support, getting women up after a Caesarean section. The list is endless, you really have no idea what you're walking into on your shift. Every single shift is different. Suddenly I am making decisions for myself about women, about their care. My colleagues have been incredibly supportive in my endless 'what would you do' questions.

When I was one of those women on a maternity ward I had absolutely no idea how much work us midwives had to do. To me, back then, just seemed like they were sitting around at computers as opposed to caring for me. What I didn't know then is that you get just a screenshot of what is going on in that ward at that moment. They could be waiting for return call for an obstetric review because one of their women has dangerously high blood pressure, maybe one of their babies is poorly and they're speaking to the paediatric team about transferring the baby to the special care baby unit. They could be sat at that computer because they have three discharges to put through and although mum is very nice, dad is getting frustrated because it's taking so long and they just want to go home. 

I love caring for women and their babies and yes ok maybe I take a little longer to help that mum of three hand express some colostrum for her sick baby in SCBU, or assist that first time mum to the bathroom after her Caesarean section so she can have a shower. I have good days and bad days, but I like to remember that I've only been doing this on my own for a little over two weeks and, actually, I'm not at all bad at my job. 

Men's Health Survival of the fittest

It's Monday, I have some rather interesting bruising inside my legs and on my knees and arms. Can only mean one thing. I did an OCR. I travelled from where I live to Wembley Stadium to take part in men's health survival of the fittest, but first was the task of registration and actually finding it. I was of course running a little late and ended up running from the tube station to the empty wickes building, apologies to those that may have seen a crazy woman with a black and yellow bobble hat, bright pink socks and a nuclear dryrobe flailing in the wind behind her, that would be me. Puffed out, I found where I was going and commenced my registration shift with a fellow Mudd Queen (those names again). Becky and I got organised, sorted through the remaining racers and generally just chatted about races we had done and how cold it was going to be, we drank lots of tea, ate lots of biscuits and then I got chatting to a couple of racers that had done the day race and was doing the night. They brought me Nandos. With our shift up, we had to dash to the start line dumping our bags at the bag drop on the way. Oh my god it was bloody freezing. I was wearing, normal three quarter length leggings, pink 2xu compression socks, skins long sleeve compression top with a sondico short sleeve top over the top and my Sands tech vest. I was going to freeze, literally could not believe I was going to go race in this, but then I was at Wembley.

Both myself and Becky were in the penultimate wave of the season, the wave was actually very small. Maybe 100 of us, that was it. The first obstacle was the trusty hay bales. Always guaranteed to break up waves, I can't believe how much these puffed me out and it certainly beat a couple of people who were struggling to get over it. There was then a sandbag carry (too easy) a few walls, monkey bars (which I failed at!!) and a lot of running. I liked that they used the vast number of stairs as part of the course to ensure the legs took a bit of a battering. We hadn't really come across any water still and it got me thinking that maybe they'd taken it out until I saw a slide on a slope. As I got closer there was a small queue but nothing major. We had both really warmed up by now and stopped worrying about how cold it was. My only issue with this slide was that it wasn't quite steep enough and definitely not enough lubrication. I threw myself down thinking I'd fly down the slide and kinda just stopped! I got wet but bad wet like only half of my body was wet, not all over saturated wet.  There was more running, more walls and ropes as well as a cone carry, a water stop which I weirdly didn't need as the water was far too cold. More steps, more concrete and more running. We were then beginning to head back to the start line again. This is when I saw the bloody huge great big stacked containers. I'm not too great with heights and this was massive, forboding and scary, I had forgotten how cold I was. There was a small group of guys helping the girls up as it was a near on impossible task to get up onto these containers and to make matters worse you then had to get back down the other side. Then back up again to this container type stacked pyramid. This was higher but somehow didn't seem as bad because of the ladders and such helping you back down again. We then had a gigantic pillow to jump into from a height (what is it with race directors loving heights!). I'd be lying if I said I didn't freak out up there. I did, totally. I saw another friendly face (the lovely Adam from judgement day) and buried my head into his chest and had a little moment. I had to jump off this platform onto a huge inflatable pillow which was probably only about seven or eight foot high but I struggled to jump. Poor Becky was waiting for me at the bottom and refused to leave, assuring me that she would wait. She was shivering bless her. After much hesitation I did finally jump, there was lots of whooping and clapping from above and below me as I rolled myself off this inflatable pillow. A few more obstacles left, including the travelator and the big slide. The travelator took two attempts but I did finally get up and the slide was probably the best obstacle there. I chucked down loads of fairy liquid, let go and absolutely flew down. Was so much fun I forgot how cold the water was. 

Men's health got a lot of stick for queues throughout the day and I can totally see why they did but as a night race it was absolutely perfect, we queued for nothing, it was quiet and peaceful and the very fact I was running around the outside of Wembley stadium made it all the more special and I felt so proud to be running for Sands that night.

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A couple of weeks of firsts....

What a mad few weeks, my time as a supernumerary member of staff is almost up. I've done induction days, scary first days, a delivery suite day, delivered my first baby day and I sat (and passed first time) medication testing day. Now I can administer medications. I worry that being non supernumerary I'll struggle with so many ladies to look after but after discussions with one of the newer members of staff I was reassured that I'm not alone and that it's all about prioritising the needs of the woman depending on mode of delivery and utilising the support staff. Hurrah for support staff.

I've managed to fit into this a couple of short training runs. One was again another park run with little legs (argh!) who held me back, we ended up walking a lot of it because his legs hurt, his tummy hurt, his finger hurt, you get this the gist. I felt so frustrated with this because I was desperate for a PB but didn't get and then we consumed the calories burnt off with a fatty breakfast, whoops! A few days later I went back again, ran the same route which ended up being 0.2k short of my 5k but I did indeed get my much wanted personal best. To me this showed that even since May this year I have vastly improved in my fitness levels as a runner and obstacle racer and I am really looking forward to my first urban obstacle course race this weekend. Men's health survival of the fittest. 

Myself and little legs at parkrun.

For the first time since I started doing OCR I will not be wearing my Mudd Queens top this weekend. I received my Sands tech vest in the post this week and so will be representing the charity I am running for in the London marathon. Though I am not sure how white it will stay being that it's going to wet and possibly a bit muddy too. It's going to be weird, no less because black is quite flattering, white is not, but because I've always worn Mudd Queen tech vest. Who are the Mudd Queens? You are probably asking. It'll be on my next post, as well as a bit of stuff about OCR and how awesome the community is and how proud I am to be a part of it. 

Reflecting on my first week.

It's 8am on a Sunday morning and I'm lying in bed reflecting on the week, namely how dog tired I am. Monday the 2nd of November was my first actual day working at the trust and I spent it at another site, on induction, the 'welcome to our trust' day. This meant getting up at silly o clock to get to a train station nearby as opposed to spending the thirty odd quid to go from my hometown. I mean really??? Aside from two days actually at work, this mainly made up my mornings. Attempting to drag my 'mummy I'm still tired' children out of bed, to get them to the (amazing) childminder for just gone six times by five. All I really want to do is drag my own backside out of bed, brush teeth, chuck hair up get in the car and drive. The struggle of trying to get an overtired six year old out of bed and dressed is totally real and I envy those nurses and midwives that have partners at home to sort the children out for them. It's really tough and all three of us are exhausted. 

As I mentioned previously I spent three days at induction, two short days at the hospital. The induction days were, how can I say, dry. Some of it was appropriate for us midwives, some of it not so much. We did feed this back to the education centre and I know IVF has come on leaps and bounds but we were struggling to engage in discussion about dementia.

My first day of the ward, waking aforementioned child several times to get out of bed whilst child number one is downstairs dressed, with shoes and coat on. It's 6am, I need to leave like now and he won't get up. I can hear the rain hammering down outside and know the traffic will be crap already before I even leave. I literally man handle the child out of bed, plonk him on the floor, dress him, whilst he's crying that he's still tired but weirdly cooperating as I negate arms in sleeves and putting socks on him. We have no time for teeth brushing, we need to leave! I finally get to the childminder at 610. My journey on a normal day, no traffic, takes about 35mins. I hit the M20 and it is red lights all the way, everyone is driving more slowly because of the surface water, the torrential rain. The M25 has speed restriction of 40mph on it. I arrive at the hospital at 0655. I'm stressed and grumpy already, I run to the ward, try to remember the code for the staff room to get changed into scrubs (no uniform yet) and walk in dishevelled, stressed and really unprepared for the day as they've begun handover. I hate being late. 

One of my mentors from my second year sees me in staff room scribbling down notes for handover, asks me who I'm working with and I smile and say "I have no idea, it's my first day". She congratulates me, tells me I'm going to be fine when secretly I'm crapping my pants. Once handover is done, the midwife in charge tells me that if I want to cry, to talk, a hug, anything at all to just ask. I feel well supported already, I need this. I'm working alongside another relatively newly qualified midwife who is just coming to the end of her preceptorship. I want her to just check what I've written is ok. She smiles, says it's fine and I don't ask again. I've trained for three years for this, I know what I need to write, the questions I need to ask and most importantly when to ask for help. I got this.  

The Real Midwife

It's my first day at work tomorrow, the last five years I've worked up until this point and I'm terrified. Logically, there's no need to feel terrified, the first few weeks are mainly induction and being supernumerary. It's that bit afterwards, where you're looking after women and wondering where your mentor is, the real midwife. And actually, it's me. I'm the real midwife now. I'm the one that makes decisions about women's care, that advocates for them, that juggles between wanting to help that family who desperately want to go home with their baby and all the discharge paperwork that goes with it when I have other women that need medication, observations needing to be done, breastfeeding support and chasing the paediatricians to do that baby check. It'll be me that will be watching that CTG for any deviations from normal. It'll be me ensuring that mum and baby are both safe, that their transtion from one whole person to two is as seamless as possible, and that their birthing partner has enough coffee to see them through the night.

And amongst all this I need to be a mum. They need me as much, if not more than those women do. It's a big responsibility, a huge responsibility. I've been waiting for this. I'm ready now.

It's only 5k

So today, to celebrate Halloween, my local Parkrun asked its runners to all dress up. The last park run I did was back in June. (It would appear OCR got in the way a bit). So I got up extra early this morning to put my face on, having spent last night tearing up a bed sheet because like the amazingly organised mother I am, I left a fancy dress costume to the last minute and there's nothing left. Anyway after scrabbling around looking for the white face paint (cheers Stacey) I slapped on my makeup for the morning and headed to Kent Life where my local one begins. Yes I got some very odd looks on the way down but then if this:

......was behind you, I imagine you might have done a double take too. My nine year old thought I looked and behaved like a weirdo and sat in the front next to me slowly getting lower and lower because obviously he didn't want to be seen with his weirdo mum asking me to do the window up. Yep I was being spooky out the window at passers by too. 

So we were off, the lovely Amy (dressed as a cat) and I set off on her first park run. I'd say the first 2k I was absolutely fine, it was a nice pace and didn't feel like I was pushing myself too hard. I begun to get rather warm. But then I was wearing an old white bed sheet so hardly surprising. From then on in I struggled quite a bit, with everything, regulating my breathing, being mindful of not heel striking, and then my right knee started niggling at 3.5k so ended up walking a bit, jogging a bit, walking again. We ran up Howard's Hill at the end and I finished in 43.33 according to my Strava. This is still a PB from doing it back in June which I should be estatic about but all the way around I just kept thinking how the hell am I going to do a marathon. Even looking at my fastest mile it would still take me about six hours. 

The lovely Amy and I 

After a bath and a small Facebook talking to, I've decided that I should acknowledge that it was still a PB, I also still ran my fastest mile ever and that it's going to take time, stamina and most definitely a positive mental attitude to not only keep going and dragging myself out there whether rain or shine but to finish and to get fit enough for the marathon in six months time. 

To sponsor me please go to http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/ShellyLaw

Judgement Day

I do something called Obstacle Course Racing or OCR, to the muggles of the non OCR world, their response is usually something like 'oh is it like tough mudder'. The OCR community smiles, nods their head whilst uncontrollably laughing inside, love it or hate it though tough mudder is what initially got me interested in OCR. My aim to do one by the end of this year, that was until I discovered the absolute minefield of other OCR's out there. That were cheaper and 'for the community'. Initially my first OCR was supposed to Judgement Day at the infamous Copehill Down and the FIBUA village which I was excited about. I had got this race for free as a gift for volunteering at another of their races a couple of months before. Unfortunately due to some twat on the M4 my car was written off and I was therefore injured and unable to participate, it was no problem, my race code could be used for another one. Over the next few months I kept volunteering for Judgement Day and became part of the #jdfamily, building up my volunteer passes for what would have been a free race year next year for me with Judgement Day.

That was until I got an email from the volunteer coordinator a while ago, someone had asked him about saving up your volunteer passes to go towards The Unknown. I currently had three passes, which was enough for a place in The Unknown. Now, nobody really knows much about The Unknown except that it changes you as a person in a positive way. One of the participants David Beatty told me that he stopped caring about the small stuff and focuses on the more important things in life. Now being beasted for the best part of 36 hours isn't everyone's cup of tea and the volunteers really struggled to be so damn horrid to them with memory tests, dune running, sea dunking, white noise type torture. It broke some people, but those that stepped out, still stuck by to support to remaining souls that continued. They were only referred to by their numbers and had to refer to the volunteers as 'Staff'. It was tough for everyone. But the feedback afterwards was absolutely epic. 

I am not prepared mentally or physically for this type of beasting and so I asked if I could offer up my own volunteer passes for a space in The Unknown to be auctioned off for Sands. This was of course accepted and so I shall be holding an online auction for a place in The Unknown. 

For more information about The Unknown or Judgement Day, please go to www.judgement-day.co.uk