Finals and a confession.

Finals are next week. Seriously. How fast did this quarter go? It seems like just a couple of weeks ago I was breaking open my first pack of note cards. Now all of a sudden it's over?

I really didn't think I was that nervous about finals. I suppose I am since over the past week I have consistently woken myself up around three a.m. doing algebra equations in my head. I've already done my in-class final essay for English and turned in my portfolio to the teacher. (The essay, get this, was on the spiritual awakening and life lessons learned of Enzo, a DOG, in the book The Art of Racing in the Rain. Screwy but true.) I have my math final on Tuesday, biology final on Wednesday and then that's it.

Oh, I have my very first study group planned for Monday afternoon! K is my math class buddy. We met each other somewhere toward the beginning of the quarter and have been inseparable since then. Our professor jokingly threatened to separate us for a "group quiz" and we pouted our way out of it. She is like the conservative, Californian, Starbucks barista version of me and we are running away together to join Doctors Without Borders when we're done with school.

My grades so far are good. My math dropped a little after that little swine flu incident. That's at a 95%. Same with Biology. English is at a 92% right now but I'm hoping my last two essays brought that up a bit. I'll find out next week!

*****

End of my first quarter emotional check-in...

Since this is my journal and I can write whatever I want, I'm going to tell you... It's been rough. Not as bad as I thought it would be, and not as bad as people predicted, but pretty bad. Some nights I lay in bed, using all of my doula encouragement skills to talk myself out of panicking. "Oh god, I don't think I can do seven years of this, I can't do it anymore, full time work and full time school, was I crazy?! Someone tell me it's okay to stop!" And then I would reply, practically beaming with positiveness, "You can do, you're already doing it! Look how far you've come! You're doing so well, I'm so proud of you! Your grades are awesome and you've kept up with homework and work-work and house-work and you're really, really doing it!" This last week has been the worst because of the whole "awake for the day at three in the morning" thing. I'm exhausted to the core. Phil walked me out yesterday morning (as he does every morning) and I turned to him and said, "I can't do it." And I cried. And he hugged me and said all the things I've been telling myself - I'm doing such a good job, I don't need to stress, it's only two more school days and then I can relax. Coming from him, it was more believable.

I can do this. I am doing it. I will succeed. I just keep reminding myself, I'm not only doing this for me - other lives will change, too. I'm doing this for all the women I will love and support to the best of my ability in making their birth dreams come true. I'm doing it for their children, to give their mothers the tools to bring them the most loving, peaceful entrance into this world we can. I'm doing it for my now-family and future-family, to give them the financial stability I never had as a kid. I'm doing this so, in my own way, I can change the world.

I will continue to be strong for all of our sakes.

I can do it.

Stubborn.

I get stubborn. My last name has the word "mule" in it. Stubborn runs in my family. It's hard being stubborn, and it's doubly hard being stubborn and in school.

High school was a nightmare for me. I got the information. I understood completely. I just couldn't figure out why I would ever need to know it. That got under my skin and I dug my feet in. I slowly stopped doing homework or projects. I aced tests. The further I got, the worse my grades were because, WHY?! Why did I need to know the capital of every state? It's not like I would be visiting them all in my Winnebago some day. Why did I need to know how to write a five paragraph essay? Couldn't I just WRITE? I hated it, hated it, hated it.

I did end up graduating, barely. It frustrated my teachers and parents to no end. A smart girl who wouldn't "apply" herself.

And here I am, in school again, feeling that old familiar stubbornness. When am I ever in life going to need to know the difference between a rhombus and a parallelogram? What does that have to do with midwifery? I'm itching to get to the nitty gritty, get my hands on a few bellies, catch a few babies.

I know, I know. I've got to learn these basics so the advanced stuff makes sense. The problem is, I get bored and distracted.

English is going well because our essays have been interesting and I get to really think about things I'm reading and writing. Biology is fantastic. I really understand the why's and how's of basic biology and the more detail we go into, the more fascinating I find it. I know why I need to know about cells and atoms and the like. When something goes wrong at any level, the whole organism suffers.

My only problem... It's math. Even in high school it was my worst subject. It drives me up the wall.

Every day I have to force myself to do it, and do it RIGHT. I have gotten 100% on every homework so far, and 99% on our first exam. But it's draining and irritating. A friend at school (and what an unexpected treasure she's been!) said someday I may be giving a patient a pill and suddenly exclaim, "Oh! Did you know this pill is a rhombus shape?" She reminds me to try to inject humor into every situation and that works pretty well...

But the best cure, the only real cure, is the reminder that I need to do this to get to where I want to go. Failure truly isn't an option. If I fail, I don't get to be a midwife.

As I sat in the lunch room at work, scowling over geometry, a coworker rushed up to me. She gasped, "How do you make someone have a baby!?" I laughed and told her I was sure she was old enough to know about the birds and the bees. She laughed, too, and told me a family member was overdue and they wanted to induce her.

So I listed off the options (acupuncture, pressure points, red raspberry leaf tea, get a pedicure, make out with your partner, have sex). You know what? It felt so good. It felt so good to know that answer, to be sharing that knowledge, to be helping someone.

When I went back to my homework, I was smiling. I know why I have to do this. I do. And I'll do it. I'll figure out the area of a four foot wide pool deck with lengths of 36 feet and 28 feet. I'll do it because the only thing between me and my dreams is my own damn self.

And those freaking rhombuses.

One month!

One month until I start school. One month, people. It feels like it's been coming for ages! My new adventure awaits!

Why did I choose midwifery? It's all, "Boil some water and get some clean towels. You, lay down in the hay and bite on this stick!" right?

Well, no. Not really.

First misconception: midwives are strictly used in home births. Not anymore! More and more hospitals are staffing midwives and opening alternative birthing centers. My hope is to work in a hospital setting for a few years (after I get my nursing degree, during my midwifery studies) before starting or being part of an off-site birthing clinic.

Second misconception: midwives are old witchy ladies who bring a stick for you to bite and not much else. No way! Midwives are trained professionals. They have an array of tools in their arsenal, and plenty of knowledge in emergency situations. Even at a home birth!

Third misconception: midwives aren't as fully trained as doctors and are dangerous. No, no, no! Midwives cannot perform cesarean births, that's true. But midwives can typically prevent them in the first place! This study compared births at an alternative birthing center to births in a hospital setting. There were no more maternal deaths in the midwifery clinic than in the hospital. Neonatal ICU admissions for both were similar. But midwife care had a greater number of vaginal (vs cesarean) deliveries, and a lower instance of epidural use. For low-risk women, there were less "technical" interventions (epidural, augmentation) at the birthing center than at the hospital. And in quite a few cases, those "technical" interventions snowball, one after another, right in to cesarean births.

So midwifery is good, yes? I believe so. Yes I do.

My first memory involving pregnancy was visiting my eight-months-pregnant aunt when I was seven or so. She showed me her belly and explained where the baby was. She let me touch her belly and I remember so clearly thinking, "Wow, it's not soft like I thought it would be. It's like there's a basketball in her tummy!"

That moment sparked my fascination with pregnancy and childbirth.

I thought being a doula would assuge that thirst for knowledge and allow me to serve and uplift women as best I could. Well, it has, but at the same time... I know I can do more. I have the brains and the compassion to do this. I have the passion to take this love of women and desire to help them succeed and push myself to the next level.

I want to heal the birth experience in this country. I want labor and birth to be a loving, safe, beautiful experience. I want women to get in touch with their strength and power - strength most don't know they posess! - and create an environment of their choosing to bring their children into this world. I want women to get involved in the process, empowering themselves and their families.

I can do this. One month more month and there's no looking back!