Let me tell you what, though, those midwives have to be some of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. I’m sure that goes for most people in the medical profession too, but it’s midwives I was watching work this week.
The ones I encountered were not only helpful and professional, they were also kind and friendly. Each of them had a kind word or a smile whenever they chanced upon us, even the ones I suspect had been there well past their end of shift.
I’ve met quite a few midwives over the years and, in my experience, I’d say that description applies to a good portion of the profession, aside from the odd dragon ready to spit fire.
I can only imagine how difficult a job it must be, too. Speaking as someone who knows first-hand how horrible a person in labour can be while in the throes of a particularly brutal contraction (mea culpa), I have the utmost respect for anyone who chooses to become a midwife.
It’s a hard, hard job.
Obviously, it has its joyous moments. Bringing a tiny little human into the world and witnessing their first breaths of life must be incredible.
But the bad stuff that comes with the job can be really bad. I mean, it’s literally a life-or-death job and everything in between.
Pregnancy is such an emotionally fraught time in a person’s life, even when the conception was planned. Excitement, anxiety, fear, anticipation, stress, love, protectiveness – these can all come to the fore during labour, and can be directed toward the person who is there to help.
I reckon that’s because people in these kinds of caretaking roles like midwifery are safe people – we’re feeling vulnerable and we take it out on the person we know won’t retaliate. It’s not fair to them, but they take it on the chin.
Then there’s the workload. Midwives are on the skills shortage list for all regions of New Zealand.
I had a look on the Find Your Midwife website run by the NZ College of Midwives this week to see how we’re faring in the Bay.
In the area covered by the former Bay of Plenty District Health Board, there were 53 midwives listed, and 24 in the Lakes region.
Last year, there were 3270 babies born in the BOPDHB area and 1569 in the Lakes DHB area, which works out to almost 62 births per midwife in the Bay of Plenty area and just over 65 births per Lakes midwife.
The NZ College of Midwives recommends a caseload of between 40 to 50 women a year.
There are hospital and birthing unit midwives who help make up that shortfall, but the figures highlight how in-demand midwifery services are.
It’s a job that never ends. Midwives are on call day and night – if they’re not assisting with a birth or other emergency, they’re taking calls and text messages from pregnant people worried about aches and pains. They’ve got to be available to cover for their colleagues as well.
But not only is it a time-consuming and exhausting job, it can also be dangerous.
Imagine with me for one moment that a woman comes in with her partner, who is known to be aggressive and violent. How will that person react under tension? What if, as so often happens during labour and birth, something doesn’t go as planned?
The midwife is going to be a potential target of that person’s anger and aggression, especially if they must stand up to that person and tell them something they don’t want to hear.
That’s pretty darn scary.
And, like so many caregiving roles, there’s an element of social work. Midwives visit parents and babies in their homes and, boy, they must see some stuff.
Our country is in the midst of a cost of living crisis and a housing shortage – imagine having to check on a newborn baby living with its parents and siblings in a cold garage in the middle of winter, for example. Or visiting a home with bare cupboards. It must be heart-wrenching.
I’m in awe of the people who choose to become a midwife knowing exactly what it entails, and even more in awe of the people that keep at it year after year.
I know I couldn’t do it.
Sonya Bateson is a writer, reader, and crafter raising her family in Tauranga. She is a Millennial who enjoys eating avocado on toast, drinking lattes and defying stereotypes. As a sceptic, she reserves the right to change her mind when presented with new evidence.
