Bloggers sometimes talk about regret and when they do, there are two situations that jump to my mind.
When I was a very young woman I went to the library with my young son on my hip. Liam was just 9 months old, a chunky and happy little bloke. I sat down next to an old man, Liam smiled and coo-ed and the man was enchanted. He talked to Liam and to me, he smiled and asked if he could hold Liam's hand. I knew without being told that this man was lonely and that he hadn't seen or held a baby in a long, long time. I thought to offer him a little cuddle but somehow I felt self conscious about it and I never did offer. It's strange how the regret from that day has never really left me. Such a little thing.
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I had a client who wanted me to attend the birth of her first child, out of all the requests a birthing mother might make, this lady was not too demanding but she was very frightened of having an episiotomy (where scissors are used to cut through the skin and muscle of the perineum)
I knew very well that the procedure is usually unnecessary but I was new at contradicting the advice of a professional and I also didn't expect to need to in this case because the procedure is favoured by doctors but rarely done by a midwife.
As it happened, the midwife informed my client that she would like to "make a little cut"; the client looked at me, I faltered and said that if the midwife was recommending it, maybe it was important. The second the words left my mouth I knew I had failed to provide the reassurance my client desperately wanted and I managed to back pedal with the suggestion that we wait for a couple more contractions before giving consent. Giving that bit of breathing space should have been enough for my client (and me) to gather strength to say no with authority (or for baby to be born) but I hadn't steeled myself in time and with a disgruntled huff my client gave her begrudging consent for the procedure. Her biggest hope for her birth and my biggest reason for being there just ripped away by a moment of hesitation.
These two events haunt me disproportionately. The old man was probably delighted with his day at the library and thought little of it. The mum probably recounts the story of her child's birth every year, if not to the child then to herself. I wonder what story she tells.
One of the highlights of my life is when I visited an elderly woman in a nursing home when my baby was three-months-old. I had to take the baby because. But, when I talked to the woman, she became interested in the baby. So, I held my child over the woman who was lying flat in bed. The woman laughed and cooed to my infant. I just hoped she did not spit up on the woman's face!
ReplyDeleteThe daughter of the elderly woman thanked me again and again and told people at church how her mother was still talking about it days later. I imagined it had been years since she had touched a baby.
I was well aware that infants can catch diseases from nursing home patients.
You did the best you knew with the pregnant woman. I would not know the answer to that dilemma.
My regret was I never went back!
DeleteBabies bring so much joy, don't they? I suppose life was probably demanding enough for you that days turned into weeks and you never made it back
DeleteOh and all I needed to do with the woman was say "you don't have to". I was taught never to speak for a client, only help her find her own voice
DeleteFunny you should write about the things that haunt you Kylie. I remember so vividly and many years ago a woman in a pink tracksuit, middle aged, walking up to a drive thru window and drunkenly screaming at the guy behind the counter in a raving nonsensical rant. The whole bottom of her trackpants was covered in faeces. I had a blanket in my car and could have put her in there on top of it and got an address and ferried her home. But I didn't - all sorts of reasons. About 30 years ago and I still think of her. We need to remember we do the best we can in the circumstances presented to us.
ReplyDeleteXO
WWW
Yes, we do our best. I know I wouldn't have picked up the drunk woman, just because I'd feel so awkward.
DeleteOn writing out the story I realise that though I was slow, I gave my client a genuine opportunity to change the course of events so I can ease up on that one
Those regrets haunt us don't they? I still remember (with a lot of regret) being behind someone doing last minute food shopping for Christmas. The woman ahead of me didn't have quite enough money and was choosing which item she would put back. HOW I wish I had put in the extra she needed. And feel for your regrets.
ReplyDeleteWe become stuck in our place, don't we? You help so many, I think some of it must have circulated back to that woman
DeleteI still think about a couple fighting on a street corner - I still wonder if I should have tried to help the woman. I was worried that they would both turn on me - it was that sort of street corner.
ReplyDeleteAnd there was a woman on a train who was targeted by a man who I knew had sat next to her so that he could rub his leg up and down hers and play with himself under the cover of his briefcase. I knew he was doing that because he had done it to me. I wish I had intervened for her.
Sx
Gross train man!
DeleteI once walked up to a fighting couple and asked if they were ok and the woman did give me a mouthful. The fighting stopped though.
Luckily I'm not prone to regrets, remorse or guilt. In any situation, I do what I think is right and if it turns out to be a bad decision I either put it behind me or remedy it in some way. I've never done anything so appalling that I desperately wish I hadn't done it.
ReplyDeleteAre you a sociopath? Are you lying? I don't desperately wish these things never happened, that's too extreme, but I squirm when I think about them
DeleteI've looked up the symptoms of sociopathy and I don't have any of them! And I don't squirm at anything, but I might well be embarrassed.
DeleteI think there is a phrase - to squirm with embarrassment? Maybe Kylie meant this?
DeleteI am also bamboozled that Nick hasn't had moments that he sometimes thinks about where he's wished he'd behaved differently. They are passing situations that stick in the mind - somehow they take on significance - perhaps so that we live and learn?
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No, I'm embarrased but I don't squirm. And yes, often I wish I'd behaved differently but I don't regret what I did. I just resolve to do better next time.
DeleteKylie, US nurses can only legally advise a patient to disobey a doctor's orders if those orders are so misguided that the nurse's action can pass a board of inquiry. You're in another land, midwives are not doctors, and you're not a nurse, so I can but ask if it's a doula's place to offer medical advice during birth even if doing so counters the advice of the person handling the birth? Also, do you really know so much more than the midwife that you could have confidently defended your advice before a board of inquiry? Peggy was a L&/D nurse for thirty-years during which time she worked with doctors, midwives, and doulas. Here in the US you would have been banned from birthing rooms had you blatantly opposed what a doctor or a nurse was doing, that is unless you had a compelling reason that you could defend before a board of experts. As for episeotomoies, Peggy has described horrible rips that went all the way to the anus when patients refused them, so are you sure that the midwife had no valid fear reason to fear that this might occur?
DeleteHi Snow,
DeleteI was not qualified to offer medical advice and I did not do that. In fact, my regret was that I spoke in favour of the medical advice rather than encourage the client to use her own voice. My loyalty must be to the client, not to tell her what she should do but to remind her that she has a right to decline treatment.
My initial comment to the client, suggesting she accept the procedure was made because I did highly value the advice offered by the nurse. What I was paid ttoo do though was to assist the client to speak for herself.
I now realise she did speak for herself but in direct opposition to her expressed wishes