Medline Plus video of caesarian section.

Not for those of a squeamish nature. Link lasts an hour.

On Tuesday my daughter lost the baby she was growing. We don't know why, baby just died. We don't know when, just sometime between 13 and 16 weeks. She had some bleeding and so she had a scan, baby's heart had stopped beating. The photo shows a perfect little baby, it doesn't show a why. She had the operation that afternoon and went home that evening. Questions, so many questions, but answers....none. Oh, I'm full of platitudes, they trip lightly off my tongue, and I'm strong, so strong, but inside I'm aching. Crying for that lost little baby, that Grandchild I'll never hold, but mostly sobbing for a hurt my daughter is suffering that I can never heal, for her hopes and dreams that disappeared when they looked at a screen and didn't see a fluttering, for a few gray photos that have been put in a box and hidden in a drawer.

The history of a Midwife

There was once a girl who had a dream, nothing amazing, just a yearning that one day she would be a midwife. She knew what it was all about, her Mother had been a midwife and she had accompanied her in her daily work sitting in a metal seat on the back of her Mum's bike. Sometimes it was pretty boring, she would have to sit in some strangers front room for ages, if she was lucky she would have a glass of juice and a biscuit and the radio would be on, there might even be another child there, but after a while her Mum would come in to the room, her face would be flushed, her hair damp but she would be smiling in a way her Mum hardly ever smiled. Then she would be taken upstairs, into a bedroom, where a lady would be sitting in a bed holding a beautiful, tiny pink baby in her arms. Most of the time she would be allowed to peep at this special present her Mummy had bought the lady, and if the lady knew her she could stroke it's soft, warm face and watch as the baby turned its head to her careful fingers, sometimes it would try and catch her fingers in it's mouth, then everyone would laugh and say they hoped her hands were clean. When the girl started school she couldn't go with her Mum anymore, but she always remembered those special times, and when other children said they were going to be ballerinas or singers, or gymnasts, she knew that one day she would go to peoples houses and make them happy, all the other things were good to dream about, but her job would be special, and she knew that she could do it.

To be continued

One of my daughters is expecting again. We've had a couple of upsets in that she decided to have a couple of quite heavy bleeds earlier on, but a scan following the first one was reassuring so we all got back on track and recommenced the waiting game. A couple of weeks ago she asked me to have a listen to see if baby would let us hear its heart-beat, and sure enough, there it was, bounding away. Two days after that she had a nuchal scan, and thats when the worry began, three and a half hours they scanned for, by the time they finished she had, literally, a bruised tummy. The risks were good though, low-risk for Down's syndrome but, they were concerned about baby's size. Her previous scans scans had put her at 13 weeks, her dates put her at 12 weeks, but they were estimating 11 weeks. They recommended rescanning in 2 weeks. I played it down, in the back of my mind I thought there may have been a chance that originally she had been carrying twins but that she had lost one when she had the bleeds, baby would therefore be slightly small, but would catch up. This week though she asked me to listen in to baby again, and I couldn't hear baby. Plenty of maternal circulation, a good sign, but no racing baby. Friday she asked me to try again, still nothing. I have remained, outwardly, positive, berating baby for hiding from Mummy and Nanny, but inside I'm frantically flicking through possibilities. I have spoken to the hospital, who are hopefully arranging a scan to 'check baby's growth', and I am remaining positive when questioned by daughter. There are good signs, dislike of certain foods, tiredness, breast growth etc, but her womb is smaller than I would expect, especially with second baby. Just think, if she hadn't have had the nuchal scan, we would all be blissfully ignorant, we wouldn't be concerned, just eagerly anticipating 'Peanuts' eventual arrival. We are in some strange limbo like world now though, waiting to see what happens. No one is really discussing it, I havn't started my cross-stitch, and I can't blog about it on my other blog as daughter knows about it and might read it. Not a good time. I want to flick a switch and skip to the next bit, what a shame life isn't like that.

A little insight into the ineffectiveness of NHS managers, bearing in mind that this is Maternity Services and pregnancy is our speciality.
Last autumn, one after another, 9 midwives announced that they were pregnant and would be going on maternity leave, for at least 6 months, March/April time. Congratulations flowed, and then the impact on the service began to be anticipated and we began to mention to managers that we could be in trouble if something wasn't done about covering the departing midwives hours. They did.................nothing, except send round a questionaire as we had been identified as being the employees most at risk of stress.
Then, finally they acted. The antidote to the loss of 9 midwives, or 45 shifts per week, is to command the community midwives to each work a shift, per fortnight, in the unit. Brilliant solution, what genius came up with that, it's really going to help, 10 community midwives, that equals 5 shifts per week, only another 40 to cover. There is a problem with this, I cannot adequately cover my caseload as it is, I'm constantly working an extra 2 hours here, half a day there, doing my paperwork at home, in my own time, and now they want to take a day away from me, it's not them who receive the brunt of this from women complaining about not being able to see me. They have shifted the majority of the care into the community as it is, our women rarely see their G.P's about the pregnancy, consultant appointments are rare, women are discharged earlier from hospital following the birth, even section Mum's go home after 2 days, of course this has impacted on our workloads, if they are not in hospital, we are visiting them at home. We have increased the homebirth rate as well, it's gone from about 1% 3 years ago to 8% now, who do they imagine staff these events, and who they think covers the work the attending midwives cannot cover due to being at a homebirth? Both within and outside the unit the midwives are stretched to the limit at the moment, and the result, the women do not receive the care they are due. It's not dangerous, lives are not at risk, but corners are cut, and the staff hate it. For the majority of midwives it is the care they are able to give which is the most rewarding, most satisfying part of the job, if we feel we are not able to give this we become disheartened. If we are racing from one woman to another care suffers, the woman suffers, and ultimately the service suffers as we will leave.
So congratulations managers, a pat on the back to the trust board. You had time to act, we all knew a 'crisis' (their word) was imminent, but you did nothing, not a thing. Now you have a service approaching meltdown. As you sit in your gilded tower, watching us little ants chase around trying to patch-up and cover for your ineptitudes, congratulating yourselves on what good little workers you have, don't think you won't feel the repercussions. It will be to you the letters of complaint are addressed, we will make sure of that. It will be on your desks that the resignations, notifications of retirement, and sick-notes, citing stress as the cause, will land, I expect that you already have the excuses, but we will know the real reason, your failure to plan effectively. Why should that surprise me?

When I started this blog I was entering a new phase of my life, Grandparenthood, I was finding the whole concept truly daunting, and really had no one to share my apprehensions with. I didn't know anyone, female or close to me, who was anywhere near this monumentous transition. The blog was my way of expressing myself. I certainly had no idea, two years ago, that I would find myself almost constantly being an 'Expectant Grandmother'.
Well I'm a Grandmother now, and still feel just like I did before I was elevated a generation. I haven't stopped being immature, I'm still dying my hair whatever bright colour takes my fancy and I still leap-frog bollards with my sister. My life has changed though. My relationship with my daughters has blossomed into something so special that I feel I am the luckiest person on earth. Friends and colleagues berate me for the way I am always there for them, but I love the feeling that I am useful again. With my children I found that we reached a point, very gradually, where I was superfluous to requirements, I was their Mother, no more, no less. Now, once again I am 'needed'. This sounds very one-sided, it's not, we have evolved into an organism that functions symbiotically, we are all there for each other, physically and emotionally. In these days of the 'nuclear' family we are building our 'throwback' family, our house is the nest where everyone congregates, sisters gossip, cousins play, Father and Son discuss the footie, Mum and Daughter give each other facials, Grandad crawls round the floor pretending to be a horse, monster, whatever. Would I go back to how things were before? Never. I had always known that I wanted to be a Mother, I had thought, as the children grew up, that it would be good to be a Grandmother to have babies around again, I had never realised quite how much it would enrich my life and change relationships, I recommend it!

Yes, I'm back again. Firstly, can any kind blogger out there tell me, in simple, idiot proof language how to put links on to my page, hopefully without having to use >, < sort of things, just letting me type away happily. I don't mean in my entry, I mean at the side.
Still a midwife, still having a love/hate relationship with the job. If I could afford the insurance I would go independant, but I can't, £10,000 is a bit rich for my pocket, so I shall just have to carry on grumbling about the NHS etc.
Looks like I'm going to be a Grandmother, again, this year. One a year for three years, I'm super blessed. Grandson is being acquainted with the concept of using a potty, he appears to be catching on quite quickly, but insists on emptying it himself, can be quite messy. Grand-daughter is learning to crawl, just in time for me to start looking after her two days a week whilst her Mummy works, shall have to take the child-proofing more seriously.

I blog so intermittently here that it wasn't until I had mail from Rosellen I remembered about being an 'expectant Grandmother'. Since my last post I have been an expectant Grandmother again, different daughter this time, and entirely different outcome. This pregnancy started off well but from 32 weeks on went downhill. I was sharing her care with a friend/colleague so had really not laid my hands on much, observation was causing me concerns though, she looked 'large for dates'. Eventually I could restrain myself no longer and asked her if we could have a listen to baby, this gave me an excuse to have a feel of her lump. Sure enough, at 32 weeks she was the size I would expect at 36, and when I tapped the side of her lump I could feel vibrations in the hand I had placed the other side, whoops, polyhydramnios, this is when there is an excess of fluid surrounding the baby. Baby also felt quite large and was super active. I immediately referred her to a consultant, when she palpated she disagreed with my findings, to the extent that she also felt baby was breech, I requested that we scan to make sure. Suffice to say that I was right, fluid ++, large baby and head down. With these findings they then conducted a detailed scan to rule out problems with baby, luckily they didn't find any, but they did estimate that baby's weight was above the 90th centile. Her care was now with the medics, and they let her so 12 days past her due date before they induced labour. Everything was against this being a success, small Mum, large baby, head not engaged, thick meconium liqour when they broke her waters (baby had had it's bowels open), 14 hours on the drip with strong contractions and no progress, yes, it was an emergency section. I now have a beautiful Grand-daughter though, 9lbs 12ozs at birth and has never looked back.

So here I am preparing to go away on a last minute break. Hubby and I were not going to have a holiday this year due to the expense, yes it is expensive, of our first Grandchild. We are still not going away, but I am! How mean is that? It's my sisters 30 + 10 birthday and she asked me to go away with her, how could I refuse? We are off to Minorca for 5 days, my favourite Balearic, just us. I am so excited. Now don't do feeling too sorry for Hubby, he goes on two golfing holidays per year so he's not exactly hard-done-by.
The best thing is though, no work. I know I love my job but that doesn't mean that it is not stressful. It is. People expect so much of you. We now have to give everyone our mobile numbers so they are always calling. If it's important, that's fine, but sometimes it is so trivial, and often not connected to their pregnancy at all and then it is really difficult not to sound irritated. They also expect you to be on-call for them around the clock, I have a life as well. If my caseload were smaller, at the moment it's 180 women, then it may be possible, but as it is there are not enough days in the week, on-call as well would be impossible. Two 24 hour on-calls per week are enough I think.
Grandson is growing daily. He's 12 weeks old now and has more than doubled his birth weight, he is still totally breastfed so daughter obviously has some good stuff there.
I'm off now to give the grass it's final cut before I go away.

Really having problems navigating this new look blog-fest.
Since I last blogged one of my daughters has achieved the ripe old age of 21. In celebration of this we had a BBQ. 30 close friends and family attended, and one monster 6 year old, he is an advertisement for family planning, don't plan to have him in your family! He is a fine example of where relaxed parenting shows it's short-comings.
I have been filling my sparetime watching Big Brother. My viewing has certainly escalated since the major trouble between that bully Jason and twinkle-toes Marco, and that devious, overweight, liar Slick Vic and pea-brained Emma. My opinion of Michelle has changed considerably since I watched her cope admirably with Emma during their time in the bedsit, the patience she has in incredible. I can't imagine that BB will get any more interesting - never know though.

I have been away - now I'm back! While I have been away I have become a Grandmother. He was born in April, didn't have the homebirth that was planned, baby showed his displeasure at labour progressing quickly by dropping his heart rate so in went daughter to local hospital where, one hour later, she presented Jack to the world. Text book birth and, so far, a text book new baby. At birth he weighed in at 6lbs 5ozs and last week he weighed 8lbs 6ozs, Mum's milk is obviously suiting him!
I have another blog hence my absence from Bloggers.I defected due to easier blogging and a cameradarie built up through commenting. Passing through I decided to checkout my good old blogger and noted that things had changed, I'll give it a go.
I'm still the often angry middle-aged woman that I was so if you are hoping to read lovely happy little entries involving chubby-cheeked infants, log-out now. I need somewhere to vent my frustrations, especially concerning the health service, and this is going to be the place

Havn't posted for a while. I've been trying to work out how to put/allow comments on my blog. Now, I've found different sites that host this but it involves doing things to my template, and I'm not brave enough! Usually when things like this happen I call for help to BIL who is a whizz with computers, writes programmes, lectures etc. but I can't ask him. Why? Cos then he would know my blog. He knows I have a blog but I won't tell him the address or anything else about it and he is trying to find it and so far it has defeated him, wonderful.
Anyway. Pregnant daughter is now 32 weeks and blooming. Everything has been purchased for the unborn one and now the waiting game really begins. My career as a midwife is fast losing its appeal. The paper work is breeding faster than a pair of rabbits and I am getting to the point where patient contact is becoming something I have to 'fit in'. I think I might retrain, data input or something. Please someone save the Health Service.

Pregnant one is back from snowboarding. 30 weeks now, blooming. Had to buy a new plastic belly bar as she had outgrown the old one. Personally I think it looks painful. It's inflammed and looks very unattractive with a white plastic bar through it. Although it's better than without, her partner said that looked like an open wound! Went baby shopping on Friday. Mothercare - disappointing, they sell cribs, but not the fitted sheets. Mama's & Papa's, sorry, she and I are not higher wage earners. John Lewis - brilliant, crib + fitted sheets. BHS, good for babygros + vests, Boots, all Mums needs (packing emergency bag, just in case) and Winnie-the-Pooh changing mat, cheaper than J.L. I have got to start sorting out the bedroom here so unborn one will be comfy at Noonies. Title yet to be sorted. Grandad is remaining aloof from everything at the moment. The only time he pays any attention is if pregnant daughter has arguement with partner, then he worries she may return and he will be in the realms of sleepless nights. Really not sure why that concerns him, we had three babies, and he only woke once!

Well, in answer to previous posting. No, don't panic about cheques wandering lost around the world, just cancel them. Real downside though, it costs £7.50 to cancel a cheque. My bargain from e.bay has turned out to be not such a bargain. I shall, of course, be discussing my situation with the postmaster and asking if I can expect any recompense, I will update when I receive a reply.
I have just had my yearly supervisory interview. This is when my suitability to continue practicing as a midwife is tested. We discuss my professional development etc. Its not the same thing as an IPR, not entirely sure of the difference but one is conducted by a supervisor of midwives whilst the other is conducted by a manager, who is also a supervisor of midwives! To be fair that is coincidence. It all went OK though so I can carry on for another year!The pregnant one is still away, she returns tomorrow. According to text messages it is like a winter wonderland in Italy. Why is it a Winter Wonderland in Italy, but a disaster when snow falls in England?

The expectant one goes snowboarding tomorrow. Am I worried? No. Believe that and you will believe anything! I mean flying, when 7 months pregnant. Supposing baby puts in a appearance early. I won't be there. It will be Italian. Will immigration let it back in? She's flying Ryanair, will baby be Irish?
Right, a conundrum. Eldest daughter has a cat. He's 7 months old and was found as a stray aged approx 10 weeks. Lovely boy, but loves his freedom. She's just moved and now has a cat flap. In and out he goes, of anybodies cat flap. He loves the company of other cats. Should she get him a friend? If so what age?
Got my pushchair. Bargain from e-Bay. No trouble, easy transaction, picked it up. Also bid on, and won a Fisher-Price Activity chair and a bouncing chair, sent off my cheques, and have heard nothing, shall I panic?

Paperwork. Yet another slip of paper has arrived in my pigeon-hole. If I cared to spend the time and energy analysing the components of my job as a midwife I have this sneaking suspicion that there would be a 50/50 split between my role as a midwife and the attendant paperwork deluged upon me from above. I'm not including in this any paperwork, directly concerned with my contact with my patients (I like to call them 'patients' or 'Mums' because 'clients', which is what I apparently should call them, sounds far to formal). Allied to the extraneous paperwork my overlords require I complete are mandatory study days. These range from obstetric emergencies, understandable, to fire lectures. Why would I want to attend one of these EVERY year. I don't work in the hospital. I drive around visiting people in their homes or conduct clinics in G.P surgeries. Does the Fire Officer cover this in his lecture. No. Why do I go then? Is there a lecture to advise me what to do if I'm called out in the middle of the night to an isolated address only to find that it's a hoax and there's a loony there? No. Have I received any advise on self-defence? No.Do I feel undervalued? No comment. In this area the on-call doctors have a taxi service taking them on visits, they also have a green light on the roof of the marked vehicle. Please, could someone explain to me why I'm required to travel alone in the middle of the night, often to addresses up to 30 miles away. Also why have I not been issued with some type of light warning other road users that I may be attempting to reach a destination urgently. I feel that me arriving quickly to deliver a baby may be somewhat more urgent than a doctor visiting someone with the flu.
Expectant daughter is blossoming. Baby is growing quickly now. We had a discussion last night about homebirth. Fecund one has decided that this is the choice for her. As a midwife I'm backing her 100%, as her Mum I'm adjusting to her decision. Schizophrenic, me?

I seem to keep losing my blogs. Why? I know they are not the most scintillating pieces of prose but they are better than some. I've just spent ages on eBay looking for a three-in-one travel system for my soon to be grandchild. There are loads to go for but....when you take the p&p into consideration they work out quite expensive, I think I'll stick with the local rag, at least that way I can see before I buy. I've just had two days off work with a gastric virus. No peace though as K keeps phoning with problems etc. As I've said, I do love my job. I made a mistake though. I did a search for midwives + blogs and read some. The expectant Mums in the results didn't have a kind word to say about their midwife. Being Mrs Paranoia I know that I am their midwife and that they think I am grumpy, fat and the nastiest person they have ever come across. I'm really sad now. I'm not sure I still love my job. Today my youngest cat, I have 3, went and had his testicles, or their contents, removed. It hasn't affected him at all. I havn't seen my husband all day, perhaps he feels threatened.

Good weekend. Saturday we were visited by sister, BIL (brother-in-law) and niece1. BIL sorted out my inability to load google toolbar, an insult to his capabilities since he is a computer whiz, but jolly hany for me! He also has his own blog which an amazing site. It means that before phoning I can check if my sister is home. Sunday we had all offspring + partners around. This was due to expanding one losing her brain rapidly. Information mutates as it is given to her and so instead of 'come and see auntie etc on Saturday' her siblings were advised to come to lunch on Sunday. Luckily I was forewarned of the slip by her brother phoning up to find what time they should come. I have a theory that a pregnant womans brain gradually emigrates to her abdomen supplying the infant with intelligence. Following the birth the womans brain slowly redevelops, not reaching its full capabilities for about 3 months. It was good to have them all together though. Today is eldest daughters birthday. 27 years ago it snowed on this day and a true eccentric was born.

Programmer at work! Webcam (x3) and my blog.
Well. I'm blowed. I wrote an entry, included this link and it all disappeared. Then I found the entry but not the blog. Confused, you will be. Its not even as if I am pregnant, I would have an excuse then for a mal-functioning brain.

As it may be gleaned from my previous entries, I am a midwife. I work out in the community which is the most wonderful area to work in, most of the time. I have an area which I share with another midwife, K. Our little patch covers the wilds of middle England, little villages, country roads. The work is visiting Mums and babies at home, running clinics, and delivering babies at home. Yesterday I discovered the biggest drawback, snow. In this country we know about snow, its not freakish, its a fact. We knew yesterdays snow was coming days ago, why then did it cause absolute gridlock? I had to start work an hour late because I couldn't get out of my small home town due to every road being jammed. It had snowed, perhaps 2 inches, the major roads were clear but traffic was at a standstill. When I went off to work all was fine, major roads slightly slushy, side roads icy but OK if you drove slowly. Afternoon. Snow almost gone. Clinic in one of the furthest outposts. Slightly concerned but not a problem, close to major road, should be well gritted, taking me long route, but safe journey if it snowed again. Finished clinic at 5pm. Looked out of window and swore. Absolute whiteout. Turned to lovely local GP, are you going to drive me home, I asked jokingly, NO he replied, turned and went. No, will you be OK, you've got a long journey, is there anything we can do.(His card is marked). Phoned Hubby and warned him I may be late. Started journey on roads untouched by traffic. Not too bad. Approached steep hill, porshe unable to go up, walzing all over the place, calmly passed him in my trusty little Clio. Smirk, smirk. Cars attempting to come down the hill, they all missed me. Came to main road, thick snow. Traffic jam in the direction I wanted to go. Please remember dear reader that we are in a tiny village 6 miles from the nearest town so this traffic jam was probably that long. I decided, usual way home. Main road should be clear. Wrong.
Treacherous. A good question was where did the road begin and the verge end? Why had I not noticed how many hills there were before? Passing numerous abandoned cars, some intact, some in loving embraces with hedges I drove slowly onwards heading for a major by-pass, I knew that would be clear. Dream on. Solid ice. Solid traffic. Snow plough on the other carriageway doing nothing, its a snow plough not an ice plough. To cut a long, two hour story short, no gritting had taken place. I have learned something though. The surgery I work for couldn't give a damn about my well-being, and if snow is forecast, in future I shall cancel that clinic because they do not deserve me. And here endeth a major grumble. By the way the P.D (pregnant daughter) is well and growing daily.