(resurfacing)

...catching my breath. I came home at 9 this morning (Wednesday) having worked 32 of my work week's hours, slept 4 hours out of the last 48 hours, taken the kids to a Halloween party, & had a doctor's appt. So, after lapsing into unconsciousness for a good several hours, I got up and made dinner for everyone. In my pajamas.

Had a labor patient on the overnight Monday into Tuesday and heard a lot of "I can't" that night. Everyone has their moment during labor where they cannot wrap their head around what it is they are being asked to do. My lady was fine during labor, but broke down with pushing and decided that was the end of the road. She would say "I can't" and the family would tell her "sure you can" and "you have to" and "you're doing it." This sometimes does not work so well. Some folks, hearing that, feel that you don't understand what they're trying to tell you, that this is not physically going to work -- this is when you get moms lashing out at their support crew.

Not that what they were saying wasn't true -- of course she could do it, and was doing it, and had to do it. She wasn't giving me a wimpy, whiny "I can't" that you get sometimes from people who won't even try. It was just a desperate, scared "I can't" that really just represented that we'd reached the limit of her imagination. She hadn't been through this before & she couldn't see it happening. In that situation, you have to say, fine, your head says I can't -- we hear that. Let's now put it aside and see what your heart and your guts come up with. Let's have a little faith.

There is no opting out. Even when you say you can't the contractions will still come, and they won't be ignored. Refusing to deal with the situation just prolongs it. Life in a nutshell, really.

We dealt with one contraction at a time, 3 pushes each. Tried to keep her focused on the moment -- don't think about where we're going with this, just give us this one push, as strong as you can manage. In between contractions, when she still said "I can't" reminded her that in this moment, you don't have to -- just breathe, just rest -- the last one is gone, the next one not here yet. Right now, they don't exist. Have faith that you will be done -- the process won't last forever.

First baby, with an epidural, she pushed an hour and a half -- did an amazing job, and proved herself wrong.

Last night I was in the nursery and took care of a baby who's going to be with us for probably 2 months. Mom is on the highest dose of methadone I think we've ever seen. I'm sure by now they've started this kid on tincture of opium -- she was already starting to show some withdrawal symptoms last night, not even 10 hours old. Usually they don't start feeling it for 24 hours. Out of the 12 hours I worked, I think I was holding her for about 8 hours. Couldn't settle her down with any tricks. She's got a hard road ahead...