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.