It has struck me lately how I can easily predict how progressed a woman’s labor is and have always been right, but only when she is laboring at home.  In the hospital, I am always wrong, every single time.  In the hospital, my clients are always struggling, despite the fabulous support I provide, a little more a little earlier on.  They’ve left their comfortable homes, taken off their familiar clothes, limited their mobility and often agreed to even more invasive procedures than those.  I really should give myself a break.  It’s no wonder they seem to be in hot and heavy labor when things are just beginning.

I realized that I do not want to be a midwife because, even at a homebirth, some time I may have to actually deliver a baby.  I don’t want to deliver babies.  I just want to catch them.  I just want to be there with the woman throughout her prenatal journey and watch her as she labors in her uninhibited, instinctual mammalian glory.  I don’t want to have to use sutures or syringes afterward either.

Oh, here’s a big one:  I don’t drive.  Have you seen how much stuff  homebirth midwives lug around?  It looks like they’re moving to Europe.  Most of it doesn’t get used, but if you need it, you want it to be there.  I think that many people picture homebirths happening with a long-haired woman who walks in wearing Birkenstocks  and carrying a satchel of herbs.  I would probably be wearing more fashionable footwear and would need my driver to bring the luggage in for me.  Sounds good, actually.

Still, I want to soak in lots of information.  I am a midwife at heart and would like to be a midwife in head.  Being a midwife in practice isn’t really necessary.  That’s my decision right now and I look forward to going back and forth on that one.

Two Years with a Midwife in Mali 

by Kris Holloway

This book made me laugh out loud and cry (surprise!).  It provides Excellent insights into the culture, traditions and personalities of people in a village in Mali, as experienced by a young Peace Corps volunteer.  This intimate, easy-to-read narrative is special because it is not the story of a volunteer’s two years in Africa alone.  It all revolves around a special friendship the author developed with the young village midwife and health care worker.  Through this unlikely relationship, we are invited to experience the stark reality of a small village in West Africa, not unlike many others, along with the lush simplicity of daily life there.  Kris Holloway does not focus on herself, but on the people of the area and their situations.  This short book can provide a much-needed education for so many people in this country who don’t know what’s going on across the waters.