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I loved being a midwife but bullying, stress and fear made me resign I loved being a midwife but bullying, stress and fear made me resign
(about 2 hours later)
Related: I faced burnout working as a GP in the NHS – I had to stop
I am a midwife with eight years experience and I love my job. I practise in a large, bustling unit where the sounds of the doorbell, fridge alarms, emergency bells and birthing women create a glorious symphony. Eight years on I still get a frisson of excitement when I go on shift and see a full board and a busy delivery ward.I am a midwife with eight years experience and I love my job. I practise in a large, bustling unit where the sounds of the doorbell, fridge alarms, emergency bells and birthing women create a glorious symphony. Eight years on I still get a frisson of excitement when I go on shift and see a full board and a busy delivery ward.
But I practise in a unit where women’s needs and autonomy are quashed under reams of risk assessments, individual needs forms, care plans, catheter forms, cannula forms, ankle measurements and tick boxes on what leaflet was given to each woman and when. I work in an environment where my dedicated, courageous colleagues who want the best birth for every woman they care for now work from a place of fear - and that is a great tragedy. I am supposed to be the guardian of normal birth.But I practise in a unit where women’s needs and autonomy are quashed under reams of risk assessments, individual needs forms, care plans, catheter forms, cannula forms, ankle measurements and tick boxes on what leaflet was given to each woman and when. I work in an environment where my dedicated, courageous colleagues who want the best birth for every woman they care for now work from a place of fear - and that is a great tragedy. I am supposed to be the guardian of normal birth.
The bravery that is required to be an NHS midwife in 2015 cannot be exaggerated. Imagine knowing deep down that something is going wrong. Something is a little “off” with this birth and you don’t know what. You check vital signs and help the woman into a more comfortable position. You dip urine, take bloods, but something is not right. You cannot get the attention of the sister in charge, or the registrars. They tell you to find the senior house officer but he is a GP trainee and here to tick a box. The fetal heart is bad - but not bad enough to act. You continue this dance for hours until suddenly the heart trace is terrible - this baby is in real trouble. You press the emergency bell and the world runs into the room. You roll the woman this way and that, attach name bands and tape up earrings, you hold her hand as she is anaesthetised and whisper that the baby will be out soon. You knew something was wrong, but you didn’t have the words and no one listened. This is midwifery in today’s NHS.The bravery that is required to be an NHS midwife in 2015 cannot be exaggerated. Imagine knowing deep down that something is going wrong. Something is a little “off” with this birth and you don’t know what. You check vital signs and help the woman into a more comfortable position. You dip urine, take bloods, but something is not right. You cannot get the attention of the sister in charge, or the registrars. They tell you to find the senior house officer but he is a GP trainee and here to tick a box. The fetal heart is bad - but not bad enough to act. You continue this dance for hours until suddenly the heart trace is terrible - this baby is in real trouble. You press the emergency bell and the world runs into the room. You roll the woman this way and that, attach name bands and tape up earrings, you hold her hand as she is anaesthetised and whisper that the baby will be out soon. You knew something was wrong, but you didn’t have the words and no one listened. This is midwifery in today’s NHS.
Imagine caring for a family for days - the woman is labouring but her baby died days ago. The baby is born – a mass of limp, tumbling limbs, he has no tone - and you cradle him gently, washing him and dressing him until his parents are ready to cuddle and touch him. He is beautiful. You treat him like any other baby because he is a human being who deserves your care and respect. As you put his nappy on you can see the raw spot on his bottom where your fingers rubbed his macerated skin off when you did a vaginal examination hours earlier. His skin clings to your gloves as you explain to the parents that he may look a little different to other babies. They will have just a few short hours with their son – a day or two if they are lucky. The sister in charge asks: “When will that baby go to the mortuary? We need the room.” You photograph the baby, taking hand and foot prints, writing tiny name bands that his parents will treasure forever - a hundred tiny acts to make some part of their day bearable. You go home and crawl into bed with your toddler just because you can.Imagine caring for a family for days - the woman is labouring but her baby died days ago. The baby is born – a mass of limp, tumbling limbs, he has no tone - and you cradle him gently, washing him and dressing him until his parents are ready to cuddle and touch him. He is beautiful. You treat him like any other baby because he is a human being who deserves your care and respect. As you put his nappy on you can see the raw spot on his bottom where your fingers rubbed his macerated skin off when you did a vaginal examination hours earlier. His skin clings to your gloves as you explain to the parents that he may look a little different to other babies. They will have just a few short hours with their son – a day or two if they are lucky. The sister in charge asks: “When will that baby go to the mortuary? We need the room.” You photograph the baby, taking hand and foot prints, writing tiny name bands that his parents will treasure forever - a hundred tiny acts to make some part of their day bearable. You go home and crawl into bed with your toddler just because you can.
I am a midwife with eight years experience and I am tired. I am tired of the punitive practice, the fear, the paperwork, the audits, the inspections and the nights on the sofa sobbing after another dreadful shift. I am tired of the negativity, the bullying that I see young midwives subjected to and the absolute inability of individuals to freely give outstanding care to women. In the wake of Francis and Kirkup we see ourselves lambasted in the press and vilified by the media. We are trying so hard as a profession to change and to give one another the courage to question the entrenched practice we see every day – but one or two midwives in each trust is not enough. We must all come together as women and declare that it is time to focus not on midwife-led care but woman-centred care. We have a long road ahead of us.I am a midwife with eight years experience and I am tired. I am tired of the punitive practice, the fear, the paperwork, the audits, the inspections and the nights on the sofa sobbing after another dreadful shift. I am tired of the negativity, the bullying that I see young midwives subjected to and the absolute inability of individuals to freely give outstanding care to women. In the wake of Francis and Kirkup we see ourselves lambasted in the press and vilified by the media. We are trying so hard as a profession to change and to give one another the courage to question the entrenched practice we see every day – but one or two midwives in each trust is not enough. We must all come together as women and declare that it is time to focus not on midwife-led care but woman-centred care. We have a long road ahead of us.
Related: I start the day with anti-depressants and end wishing I didn’t work in NHS payrollRelated: I start the day with anti-depressants and end wishing I didn’t work in NHS payroll
I am a midwife who has resigned from the job I love. I have left midwifery behind to focus on changing one small part of our profession. Risk management is not glamorous and it doesn’t win awards, but perhaps I can contribute to cutting through some irrelevant forms or streamlining notes. Maybe I will support my colleagues when outcomes are poor - instead of demanding why a box wasn’t ticked. I am the guardian of normal birth, and it is time to prioritise women and their precious babies. I hope that one day I will have made a difference.I am a midwife who has resigned from the job I love. I have left midwifery behind to focus on changing one small part of our profession. Risk management is not glamorous and it doesn’t win awards, but perhaps I can contribute to cutting through some irrelevant forms or streamlining notes. Maybe I will support my colleagues when outcomes are poor - instead of demanding why a box wasn’t ticked. I am the guardian of normal birth, and it is time to prioritise women and their precious babies. I hope that one day I will have made a difference.
If you would like to write a blogpost for Views from the NHS frontline, read our guidelines and get in touch by emailing healthcare@theguardian.com.If you would like to write a blogpost for Views from the NHS frontline, read our guidelines and get in touch by emailing healthcare@theguardian.com.