Amazon
My body my baby
Category:
Action/Thriller
Publisher: Bookwhirl
ISBN-10: 2013949754
Pages: 248
Copyright: sept 29,2013
ISBN-13: 9781618563323
Price: $7.70 (eBook)
journey through 34 years and 3 continents. witness how childbirth became complicated. time to change the way we deliver care
Midwives are undervalued globally and experienced midwife Irene Chain-Kalinowski believes that their professional status should be acknowledged. She would like to see changes globally, in the way that maternity services are provided – and that is for women to regain childbirth in a system that empowers women to take charge of their childbirth experience. That’s why she shares her lifelong experiences throughout her midwifery journey and her lifelong ambition and passion to work with women to help them regain faith in the process of childbirth in her book, The Heart and Soul of Midwifery.
A practicing midwife for 32 years, the author has led a colourful life and a storied career in the field of medicine. In this memoir, she looks back to her journey and offers a rare glimpse into The Heart and Soul of Midwifery through her real-life experiences and stories from around the globe. Her work has brought her to many different places including the Middle East, New Zealand and the United Kingdom. It has also given her a wealth of realizations and experience on life and her duty. Her book mirrors both the sweep of personal history—including the author’s private struggles and triumphs— and the professional insights that she gained on the job. She explores the finer points of a noble work in the light of the unique experiences that helped her fulfill her purpose. This is a valuable source of insights, advice and inspiration for both newcomers and veterans involved in the childbirth profession.
Excerpt
Chapter 2
THE MIDDLE EAST
Saudi Arabia
1982. Every nursing journal and newspaper held advertisements for positions in Saudi Arabia. My midwifery colleagues were talking about it. I thought it would be a good idea. Of course, the thought of clearing off my mortgage was a predominant factor. Wouldn’t it be anyone’s? The thought of travelling again was tempting, and I was even more curious to learn more about midwifery. I also wanted a break from relationships and the past. The next best thing for escape would be a convent, so I chose Saudi Arabia. No men—just time to find myself. Well, so I thought. I had three interviews in London— two with British companies, and one American. I was offered all three jobs, having balanced the perks of working under American management through my ex-husband and the few perks of working in the UK. I chose an American company and opted to take on the challenge of opening a new hospital in Riyadh. I had already played a part in commissioning a new hospital in Yorkshire when I was a staff nurse, so I thought I had a bit of background knowledge. I accepted a senior midwife position when I said I wasn’t ready to take on a senior post at my present job.
I keep reminding you that fate has a lot to do with wherever we end up. The contract was for 2 years. I remember telling my parents it was 2 months renewable and that I needed to go. I always knew that if I didn’t like it, I could always go home. I broke the news to my midwifery colleagues and friends. They were very surprised as they had been talking about the idea, but I was the only one who did it. Strange, isn’t it, that so many people have big ideas and dreams and so few people follow them? At this time, the headlines in the newspapers were very strong on Helen Smith, the nurse who died from falling from the balcony in Saudi Arabia. Everyone tried to put me off. I always had the idea that I’d more of a chance being killed on the road than falling off a balcony, and I needed to go ahead with my curiosity. I also needed to finish what I had started—Polish pride.
I did a lot of reading about Saudi Arabia and how to respect its culture, that women covered up and wore long dresses and black abayas.
I packed up my midwifery books and all I felt I needed to take. My good friend made me a dress to wear for when I got off the plane. It was about three sizes too big and down to the floor and certainly covered up my arms and legs. I had no idea what I was going to experience. I was travelling alone and knew I would be met at Riyadh airport.
I’d just celebrated my 24th birthday; it was July 1982, and what a send-off. Gerry and the Pacemakers were playing at the holiday club and actually I was invited to sit at his table; he did inform me his wife had a son born by C-section. See, the miracles of birth never leave you!
My parents took me to the airport. I’ll never forget the look on their faces. He said, ‘This leaving is becoming a bit of a habit. At least, this time, it isn’t snowing. We’ll see you in two months.’ He didn’t know it was going to be for 2 years.
The flight took around 7 hours; it was one of the longest flights of my life. I needed a few Bacardi and Cokes to help the thoughts sink into my mind. I kept opening my passport to the work visa with the ministry of interior stamp in green Arabic print. I then looked at my work contract—‘Senior Sister, Midwifery’. I kept shaking my head. ‘Did I really do this? How will I manage to take up that responsibility?’ My guardian angels must have been pretty worn out by the time I had asked for the courage and their guidance.
The plane began to descend for landing at Riyadh airport. I looked out of the window. It was very dry out there—no greenery and a very sandy haze obscuring the buildings. I put on my long, baggy dress. I managed to get through to passport control and saw the aisle for women, many wearing the long black overcoats and veils. Men dressed in white thobes and red-and-white headdresses were pushing their way to the front. It was very quiet. I just followed the women in front until I got to baggage claim. I then had to open my bags; a few magazines were confiscated as they bore women with bikinis. I had already removed the Marks and Spencer label from my underwear. I had been well informed that Marks and Spencer was a Jewish company, and they were not welcomed in Saudi Arabia at that time. The guard then rummaged through my suitcase and picked up my midwifery books. They scribbled over my breastfeeding pictures with black felt pens. My birthing picture pages were torn out. Great! How could I teach without pictures?
I was so relieved to see a European man holding a huge board with my name on it—Irene Reszczynski. Thank goodness I held on to the long name—you could hardly miss it.
I had an American welcome and felt so relieved to hear an English voice. It took about an hour to get to the compound. A huge wall surrounded the compound, and there was an opening with a large gate. Two Somali guards raised the barrier and allowed entry. I was taken to my three-bedroom prefabricated home. It was very new. There, an American employee and an Australian midwife greeted me. I was tired. I put my bags into my room and came out to meet my new roommates. I was taken to meet the other employees. There was a party that night, so I was taken out to another house for introductions. I was surprised there were male and females. It was the only mixed compound in Saudi Arabia. Thank goodness I chose an American company. The whole hospital workforce lived on the compound—anaesthetists, doctors, paediatricians, obstetricians, male and female nurse, and even the plumber. They were a family— my new family. I can’t tell you how relieved I was.
I went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, so I put some water into the kettle—thank goodness there was only enough for one cup. The kettle blew up when it got hot. I had poured some Siddiqe (an alcoholic drink made from a potato still) into the kettle. Everyone laughed. Riyadh was not as dry as one would have thought.
Opening Midwifery Services
I was given a day to unpack my bags and settle in. It was wonderful to feel the dry heat. I found the swimming pool and had a lazy day. What a welcome!
It wasn’t long before I was introduced to the hospital and found it was not open. It would take 3 months for it to be ready. I had a meeting with the other twelve midwives—ten from the UK and two from Australia. I was also relieved to find out that some of the midwives had less experience than me.
We spent 3 months commissioning the hospital. We had all brought varying skills with us and had a lot to contribute. It was decided that there should be no junior and no senior. We were all midwives. We would all support one another and all take it in turns to take charge of the unit. Of course, we all had the same pay. We prepared policies and procedures. I brought the work I did at the last hospital, and we implemented the care plans as they should have been implemented. There was no resistance or challenge. There was no old baggage to take on-board as we had this maternity unit from the bare roots.
The midwives brought skills from many hospitals, and we had lots of fun sharing experiences. We had Thai and Philippine nurses; we held lots of in-service training. Amazingly, the unit ran with 2 obstetricians, 2 registrars, 2 paediatricians, 12 midwives, and 24 nurses from Thailand and the Philippines. By the end of 2 years, we were doing 3,000 plus births a year—90% vaginal births.
Midwives assessed all women. Women were referred to the obstetric clinic if there were medical problems that may affect the birth. Midwives held antenatal classes with a translator. Midwives were taught to suture perineums by the obstetricians and taught to insert IV Luers by the anaesthetists. Midwives could prescribe oxytocin if required and could request epidurals. Midwives were trained to manage epidural top-ups. Paediatricians taught neonatal resuscitation. In-service education regarding sickle cell, sickle cell crisis, G6PD, diabetes, and gestational hypertension was given. Midwives were funded to attend overseas refresher courses for midwifery, providing they returned and gave in-service lectures to other staff. All midwives supported one another; the learning curve was tremendous. All midwives became competent to conduct births by themselves. I felt free to get on with my job and do what I had....
|
