Fourth year is intense. I promise to update with new stories of what’s happened and things I’ve experienced, but for now, I will give you the inside scoop of how I’m feeling.
The first three weeks or so of this placement were a bit of a fucking disaster. I say that carefully, because I naturally expected the first month to be challenging given I have not done much of anything midwifery-related in a long time and the level of student responsibility leaps up 1000 fold. On Day 1, I was given a key to the clinic and on Day 2, I was taking pages from clients. I also had the added stresses of unpacking my house, (I didn’t get a couch until May 22) getting to know a new city, and a having been allocated a preceptor that was on the brink of a stress leave.
It was a lot to deal with.
I felt confused, guilty, and stupid every moment of every day. There were no good moments, and I questioned hard what I was even doing in this job that asks so much of midwives’ emotional and physical selves.
My preceptor situation was sorted out at the very end of May, after which I was paired with a new preceptor midwife. Things have been more clear since, partially due to the preceptor situation but mostly due to me getting a feel for expectations and my role.
I am behind, though. While my classmates were getting orientated and learning community standards, hospital protocols, paperwork, and other basics, I was barely floating.
Now that it’s into June, I still feel stupid most of the time, but now I feel stupid with structure. The basics are forming. I have some good days, whereas in the beginning I really had none. I’m still tired as fuck every day, but I’m able to keep my dishes clean, my groceries stocked, my cat fed, and my homework done now.
I feel more hopeful than I did in May and early June. I feel my confidence creeping back, and I feel less horrified at the idea of going to a birth. I’m trying to get my midwifery mojo back. It is, after all, the whole reason I started this journey to begin with.
One day at a time, they say.