The Universe Waving Hello

Most of the time we stumble along, passing from moment to moment with no real sense of connection, of plot or even greater meaning. But once in a while circumstances line up, and work out just so, giving a moment's wonder "could there be something out there, keeping track of everything, planning each exact second in time"

I walked into work last week for a day shift. Day shifts are not my forte. Usually, I get to bed at a reasonable hour, then proceed to toss, turn and varyingly study the inside of my eyelids, or the course stippled ceiling in our bedroom. Very low steam is the gauge at which I entered the day.

It was busy.

It is always busy.

The baby having business will never crash, unless we experience some Children of Men phenomenon.

I started the day with two patients, early labour, each one a name in a famous bookstore. The chuckle I got out of that would be my only one that day.

One patient (we'll call her Mrs. Q) immediately proved to be more needy than the other one. Okay. I can handle that. Something was not quite right though. It started with her seeming extra modest regarding her body. Except for the minimum required touching, she did not want me near her. Then, when she got up to go to the bathroom she asked that I wait outside, and that her husband help her up. This was not a cultural request, but I agreed anyway, stating as I left that at some point we would have to become a little more "familiar". Next, her husband wanted to do all sorts of my work for me. He wanted to hook up the nitrous - I told him no. Whenever I left the room he would adjust the fetal heart monitor...incorrectly. He kept telling me "you go sit down, I can do it". I eventually had to ask him to stop that, due to the fact that he kept picking up maternal heart rate, and really, it is my job to monitor mom and baby, and his job to support her through this time.

So the day went.

She received the epidural she requested, after several hours of waiting for the anesthetist to get out of back to back emergency caesareans. She didn't seem to understand the necessity and urgency of the other deliveries. I can understand that when you're in pain, your sense of compassion dwindles somewhat.

Post epidural brady = case room delivery + shoulder dystocia + grumpy doc

Baby's arm had to be broken on the way out. This was probably the worst time I've ever had to restart an IV. In retrospect, I should be thankful she had veins. The sound from the arm breaking could only match the mom's facial expression in disgust.

It was a very trying delivery. Baby was fine in the end, other than the broken arm which will heal.

Mom immediately started to obsess over her weight.

It was not a family I bonded with very well.

When we got back to the low risk side, I did her recovery fairly quietly. I felt overstressed and frustrated to say the least. The whole situation escalated more than it should have, and more than I can state in words here.

I went for my break, and was called back early for an imminent delivery. Such is life, not on the schedule of a nurse who would just like to eat and decompress. Heading to the room, I pictured in my mind the glass of wine that I would consume when I made it home.

The delivery was very very low key. One minute mom tells us she needs to push, the next baby is out and crying. No big deal. Healthy, happy baby and mom.

As I'm getting mom, baby and the room cleaned up, visitors start to arrive. One looks extra familiar. It turns out she works at St.B in the labour and delivery ward....and in that instant I am taken back to my very first delivery.

I was 18 years old, in my second year of nursing, first semester. The first week of any rotation I ever had was at the St Boniface L&D ward. I arrived, keen to begin and nervous as hell in my white scrubs. I had never been in a hospital, except when my Grandpa had died a few years earlier. I was assigned to a patient who was just about to begin the final stage of labour: pushing. I got in the room and the nurse asked me to hang an IV bag: I looked at her blankly.
The mom had the baby fairly quickly, and with little fuss. It was her first baby, a boy: David.

It's amazing how much you can remember in the span of an instant.

Anyway, I was floored, not only for remembering all of this, but also for the fact that just when I was feeling less than competent as a nurse, very lousy and tired of ALL of this - the universe handed me something so significant. It reminded me how much I've learned in the span of just four years, and how I've gone from someone who has zero skills in this department, to one who has many - both scientific and psychological. It reminded me how miraculous birth is, and how sacred it can be to anyone involved, and that sometimes, people are just being people.

At that precise time, it was exactly the pick me up I needed.

I felt like the universe was waving hello, to let me know it hadn't forgotten me. And it felt wonderful.