Seven years after the birth of my niece a friend asked me if I would be at the birth of her second baby, Isaiah. She told me that she needed someone who could help her relax and also make her laugh.
The call to go came just after one of my Open University tutorials. The group had adjourned to the pub to watch one of the infamous England:Germany quarter finals. It was the 1996 Euro Semi Finals I think. I said goodbye to my fellow students and went round to Jane’s home. Paul, her husband, was half in and half out of the front room door. He was, of course, rooting for England and trying to support his wife who was labouring in the bedroom. It seemed such a weird situation. I didn’t know which groans were loudest; Jane’s as each contraction rose or Paul’s for each goal missed.
Of course the match went to penalties and with the last kick, some choice words in Paul’s direction and England’s inevitable defeat, we left for the hospital. Somehow England’s loss wasn’t felt quite as keenly by Paul this time.
I slowly beginning to get it. I loved this.
I had and have no interest in being a midwife. Seems a mostly thankless task to me. Don't get me wrong. I LOVE midwives. I think that they do a brilliant job. I just think that they are overworked and underpaid and they don't get to do the job that they signed up for. Obstetric nursing seems to be their role rather than that of supporting women through birth.
Seeing that baby born started a spark within me but it would be a few years yet before I recognised it and was able to do something about it.
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| Future England stars? |
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