losing the battle
I used to have a lot of mental energy for school work but over the last year I have lost my ability to focus and concentrate on much of anything. Being pregnant and then losing Abby certainly contributed to that, but also Julia's increasing demands on my time and attention have killed what was left of my focus. It's very hard to concentrate on anything when she's home with me, which is why I rarely read a book, scrapbook, or do school work these days. Instead, I do laundry, make meals and snacks, watch TLC, and expect interruptions every few minutes. Sadly, this will not change next year when Julia is in school full time because I will be home with a small baby, even more laundry, and even more frequent (booby) snacks and meals to provide.
Don't get me wrong, I love my children, and I'm very excited about this baby but I am feeling mentally dull. I feel dumb, and I feel that I've forgotten a lot of what I've learned in midwifery school so far. In June it will be 2 years since I have attended a birth or spent a recordable amount of time providing prenatal or postpartum care. It's very easy to doubt my career choice right now, especially after what happened with Abby. Do I really want to look into a baby's blank face at the moment of birth and wonder if they will live or die? I've seen that blank, empty look on babies' faces sooo many times and they have all come around. All of them except Abby. People have asked me if I have lost my faith in the normal process of birth, or if I still trust it. I do still trust the birth process, but I certainly feel like my body betrayed me (and Abby) at some point in my pregnancy or labour resulting in her death. I know it's not really my "fault" that she died, there was nothing I was aware of and nothing I could have done better or differently but still, it was my body that deprived her of oxygen for so long that she was essentially dead as soon as she was born.
For my current pregnancy, I believe that my body can nurture and birth another baby but my mind is not wholly convinced that the outcome will be a good one. I believe in my heart that this baby will be pink and breathing but my mind reminds me that this is not always true. It's as if my experience with Abby has completely wiped out my memory of the births that had good outcomes. Even though I had two living children before Abby died, it's a shock to my brain to think of having another baby that will be cry and move and breathe, as if *that* is the exception. I've forgotten what that's like to feel only joy after a birth, to hear my newborn baby cry, to put a baby to my breast and feel them suck. Ooohhh, right........."that's* what normally happens. Right.
So today is Sunday and I should be able to carve out some time for school work. Instead, I can predict that my mind will be preoccupied with thoughts of folding baby clothes and filling my freezer with postpartum meals, Kim and Julia will be bored and fight over the tv and the dog all afternoon, I will have to protect my study space from the parade of crayons and polly pockets, and I will suffer a nap attack just in time to wake up and make supper. Hmm, the day is over, another day without getting any school work done. Pessimistic? No, just realistic.
What do I wish for? A laptop with wireless internet so that my study space can be almost anywhere, a public library with lots of tables that is open for more than 20 hours a week, funded childcare for Julia while I'm "at school", and one birth a month to remind me why I'm doing this. When I'm scraping my tuition money together every month and yet not getting any school done or attending births, I'm very tempted to quit. Maybe by the time my own birth comes around I will be inspired again to continue. In the meantime, I resent making tuition payments every month and my school books mock me.